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

[ One day, perhaps, he'll be able to accurately express the effect you have on him when the two of you are like this: him curled up against you, your breath warm over his head, your lips close, your voice washing over him, pushing the shadows away.

He realizes, belatedly, that he's letting his fingers trace the length of your arm. Back and forth, like subconsciously, he has to be sure that you're even here, with him. That you're even real in the first place. ]

You really do like to aim impossibly high, don't you?

[ It's a weak attempt at humor, but hell, he has to try. (And maybe what will really shine through is the gratefulness behind it. The things he can't quite say out loud just yet.) ]

Edited 2014-12-01 14:52 (UTC)

I dream big. [ He's smiling at that, letting the tips of his fingers brush through your hair. ]

I haven't done that in a while, but this year has been something else.

[ Leaning in again, slanting his mouth over yours in the only way he can think of to reassure you that he's here with you and not budging. ]

[ And he responds only too gratefully to the attention. First it's marked with a tiny, relieved little sigh against your mouth, and then his lips gradually parting to let you taste him/slip your tongue between them, if you care to.

His need for you at this very moment is crippling, and you're only too ready - to willing - to indulge him, and do what you can to make him feel safe and warm again. There's something both poetic and intimately sad about that. ]

Josh...

[ His voice is still thick with the tears he still hasn't shed, and also with how much he wants you right here with him, no matter how shitty it might make him feel in his darkest moments. ]

[ And he's sighing into you right back, his hand following the length of your arm as he deepens that kiss. ] I'm right here. [ That's whispered as he catches your lower lip gently between his teeth. ] I'm not going anywhere.

[ Whatever you need, he'll give. You're a steadying presence in ways he can't accurately express, something that makes him want for things he never thought of for himself, or if he did, only in that distant sense that usually accompanies the words "what-if". ]

Please don't.

[ Maybe that sounds a little pathetic. It probably just makes him look his actual, physical age, especially since it's coupled with the way he looks up at you, and the way his breath shakes just so in the air between the two of you with anticipation/the ghost of old aches. ]

I love you. I love you so much, I...

[ He'll do anything for you. He trusts you so wholly and so completely that surely, at least once, you have found it frightening. He loves you so much that sometimes, it really fucking hurts. ]

[ It doesn't sound pathetic. It really doesn't, and if he actually knew that you thought of it like that, he'd be inclined to dissuade you from that line of thought.

He's shifting a little bit over you, anchoring you against the mattress and the sheets and looking you straight in the eye as if you are the only thing in the world right now. He's also lifting your hand so that he can press a lingering kiss to the center of your palm. ]

You sound so scared when you say that. [ Forehead to yours, his body settling over you, one arm braced by your head to prop him up. You'll feel his fingers running through your hair again. ] I'm not going to disappear, Hikaru. And all of this is real.

[ When he captures your lips with his, he sighs into you. You'll likely feel the tension running through him. You look so terribly vulnerable in ways you normally wouldn't be, but he's compelled to handle you with such care because the sight of you makes his heart ache with so much longing. ]

[ This time, when he kisses you back, he's wrapping his arms around your neck to keep you close. That little fit has brought the cold back into his bones and in his heart. You're here, though, and you say that you're not going to leave, and he's working towards believing you. Maybe...

He's relaxing bit by bit, and that does lead into him slowly getting back into kissing you with less desperation and more actual desire.

Please, let him draw your body over his like a blanket, or maybe more like a shield. You've never failed, thus far, to make him feel safe when the both of you are like this. A lot of him is counting on that. ]

[ There's a soft gasp, the sound of it wholly relieved, as he sinks a little more into you, giving over and kissing you in earnest as if he were a drowning man and you the first breath of air upon breaking to the surface. ]

Be with me? [ He whispers that when he eventually breaks away, nose pressed to your skin, breathing labored. ] Let me give you everything tonight.

Please. I'd like that.

[ He's starting to relax, which means that the shakes are beginning to settle down and bleed out of his limbs. In fact, he sounds almost dazed now, and it is matched by the way he looks up at you.

You've found it frightening before, haven't you? To look back at him and see just how much he trusts you, and how willing he is to follow your lead and let you do whatever you want to in order to bring you both back towards stable ground. ]

Then kiss me. [ That's murmured over your lips. ] And don't think of anything else but what matters: us.

[ He'll lavish your mouth with attention at that, shift his weight to his knees as he straddles you lightly, just enough to keep you in place and press up against you so that you can feel how much he needs you right now.

His hands have left you to undo the tie at his neck and shrug off that coat he'd donned for the night. When the tie comes loose, his fingers skim over the buttons of your top with the intent to shed you of the trappings of your own clothes. ]

[ He'll cling to that just like how his lips cling to yours before they ultimately part and let you kiss him deep and full and well. He's also letting his arms move, allowing his hands to roam down the full length of your body both because he's too eager to have his palms remember the feel of your skin beneath them, and to assure himself, once again, that you're really here with him and you're staying for good.

A shuddered breath between the two of you is what you get once he registers the fact that you're right about ready to take his clothes off.

Please do. Please, do everything to me.

That is what his eyes are telling you, once he's lifting his gaze back up towards your face. ]

[ He'll relieve you of your shirt then, hands lingering over your skin as he parts the folds of your shirt. He'll catch your hands and move off of you, draw you up and sit on that bed so that he can guide you over him as he strips you down to just warm skin over bone.

And then he'll smile at you like you're the only thing that could ever matter, the only thing he could ever see as he guides your hands over him and goes through the motions of stripping himself down.

It's always been like this, whenever you both make love: push, pull, meet in the middle, because the middle-ground is where you both can lose yourselves to each other.

When you're both naked over those sheets he'll run his fingers up your sides, over your shoulders and up to fist in your hair to draw your mouth back to his. ]

[ And with each passing second he's relaxing a little more, letting you override his sense of control and the fear knocking about in his heart and his ribcage, letting his skin settle beneath the weight of your touch. Hence, it shouldn't be too surprising how he's pliant in your grip by the end of it all, reeling from how wonderful you've managed to make him feel in such a short time after that bad fall, and how the cadence of his breath has slowed, grown short, gone ragged.

There's a soft sigh leaving his lungs once he feels your fingers in his hair, and he follows the turn of your grip without a second thought, mouth already opening to welcome your lips and tongue. His limbs, in the meantime, are spreading out a bit more, like his entire body is unfolding just to let you be in the perfect position to touch him wherever you want. ]

[ You'll feel the roll of his hips beneath you then, the way he's rubbing himself up against you because his body craves the warmth of yours. He'll kiss you like you're the only place he can breathe air from, like this moment needs to be stretched out and savored for what it is.

Earlier tonight, he asked you to be his and you said yes. Let him be your shelter, a safe place to turn to when you feel like you can't manage anymore. Let him be someone you can turn to and come apart with, because he'll do everything in his power to piece you together again. ]

Tell me you love me. [ He sighs that against your mouth as his hands fall away. The tie he discarded is tangled between his fingers now. ] Tell me again, Hikaru, please.

Love you.

[ The words are a little stuttered, but they ring with the full depth and breadth of what he feels for you. It's also written in his eyes, and in the way his lips pant for yours in the aftermath of their departure.

He's past the point where he cares to notice anything but the way your gaze and your face fill his vision. You probably have him close to precisely where and how you want him. ]

Love you so much.

Do you trust me? [ It's more than a little frightening to know with some measure of certainty that your answer will be yes. That you'll let him take you apart with the kind of humbling faith that he'll be there for you every step of the way.

The next kiss he presses to your mouth is tinged with desperation and all the love he feels in his heart. ]

Yes.

[ Yes, absolutely, please --

He can't say much else but just that one word, though, because you're the air he breathes in right now, and without you drinking from him, he can't hope to keep himself from being crushed by the weight of his own heart. ]

[ He'll guide you then, set you down against those sheets and draw your arms over your head. The suite you've been given has a bed that works for what he has in mind: a headboard made of slim posts to which he uses that tie to secure you in place.

When he's done lashing your wrists, he lets himself track kisses down your chest, over your heart, even as his palms ghost over your torso with a reverence that is telling of how precious you are to him. ]

I love you-- [ kiss ] --I love you so much.

[ There's something beautiful in that takedown, so beautiful that it momentarily steals what little air there is left in his lungs. He doesn't shy away, and looks nowhere else but your eyes as you pin him down, as you tie his wrists to that headboard. He only really gets to breathe out once you start to kiss him, and that brings his gaze down to where he can watch you at work on his body, utterly mesmerized by the sight of you.

Maybe it's dark and a little fucked up, how all of this calms him down, how all of this will eventually get him going in a way entirely unique from your usual lovemaking. But you love him nonetheless, don't you? ]

[ If it's dark and fucked up from your end of things, what more is it that from his, this is something he feels that he can offer, that he's all too willing to explore if it helps center you again.

The tip of this iceberg of experimentation has had the groundwork laid out nicely -- impromptu moments back in his room, at his house, and then there was that exchange shortly after Brother Death's Hour when he, trembling, realized that he wanted you bound beneath him and pushed in ways he hadn't thought he could ever want.

One more kiss over your stomach, before he's pulling back and going through the mess of your clothes on that bed to retrieve the tie you'd worn to the party.

He's crawling over you now and leaning in to press his lips to your lips before he lifts that tie to cover your eyes. ]

Let me do this for you. [ Securing that now in place, his hands gentle as he wraps it all the way to the back of your head. ] Let me make it all better.

[ And he tips his head automatically, making it easier for you to rob him of his sight. When he's right and properly blind, there's a soft, relieved sound leaving his lips. It's followed by this: ]

I trust you.

[ So here he is now, spread out thin and perfectly at your disposal, and perfectly all right with this. The anticipation, in fact, is going ways towards rekindling the need in his gut and the fire in his lungs. Since he's exposed for the moment, you'll be able to see that. ]

[ He starts slow over your mouth, shifting the angle of his lips occasionally so that he can nip at your mouth. His hands are planted on either side of your torso, propping him up and making it easy for him to alig his body over yours: hips flush over your own, one leg pressed between yours.

That's a hand ghosting over your belly, kneading the flesh and muscle there with his fingers.

There's no need to rush tonight, and with you permission, he'd like to stretch this out as much as possible for you both. ]

[ And it's like you're drawing out the air that he so desperately needs in his lungs every time you kiss him, so much so that his lips try to chase after yours each time you break away from them. The tension running through his body is no longer from stress, but wanting too much, and it's building in his limbs, making them hum, making him strain just a little against the tie binding his wrists together.

There's a soft noise at the way you're touching him, eyebrows knitting, stomach flexing underneath your fingertips. It's like he hasn't decided whether he's content with this for the moment or he'd like you to do more. ]

[ Maybe you'll feel the way his lips curl at the ends, right before he catches your bottom lip between his teeth to worry at it as his hand shifts lower to knead over the muscle on the inside of your thigh. It is entirely too tempting to touch you where he'd like to the most, to feel you up and get you going right away.

But... patience, he tells himself. The night is still young and there's so much to explore with you arranged like this beneath him.

Have a sigh over your mouth now, even as he turns his hand so that he can caress your skin with the backs of his fingers. ]

[ It is good that you're carrying yourself with some modicum of control, because your fiance isn't exactly capable of that at the moment. That much will be obvious in the way he quivers and pushes a little more into your palm, and the pleading sounds that follow right on the wings of the previous one that he made.

This is the sort of distance that kills: where you're close enough to where he needs you to be such that he can feel the unique heat and weight of your skin right there, and yet... ]

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