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

[ What does it say about him that his reaction to what you've just said and how you're looking at him right now is to go incredibly still, eyes at half mast considering that his gaze keeps getting drawn towards your mouth.

( You said "these things". Are you referring to his reactions to how he cannot ignore the way your hand/fingers feel? Or... or-- ) ]

I didn't think-- [ Yes, Josh. You only kind of wished.

Swallowing now, and doing his best not to shift his weight.

What you're getting on your end is probably the equivalent of the kind of embarrassment that stems from being caught whilst jerking off to the thought of you when he thought you weren't looking much less in the same room. ]

[ Now he really has to kiss you, slow and deep and thorough. Like so. ]

You didn't think what?

[ And he stays close to you as he speaks, his eyes never leaving your face, his mouth tantalizingly close to yours. His grip is firm and imploring at exactly the same time. The fingers he has along the valley between your buttcheeks is now rather close to your entrance. ]

Edited 2015-02-12 07:28 (UTC)

[ He never thought that he'd know the kind of nearness that cut, that could make a body crave so much more. What he feels is the equivalent of being trapped in the dark with only a tiny patch of light in a high place, and that light is also the only means for air to seep in for his lungs to inhale hungrily.

Your fingers are so close and he could choose to shift his hips to bring them closer, invite you in and sate a need that's been the itch he couldn't quite reach all on his own.

Swallow again, Josh. It's just one sentence. How hard can a confession be? ]

I didn't think you wanted me like that.

[ Of course you would think that.

His hand is leaving the general vicinity of your ass now, and moving up. You can trace the progress it makes from your arm all the way to your face, where his fingers then start tracing your jawline all the way down to your neck, then back down over the curve of your shoulder. You may recognize the gesture. It's almost like, while his body is contemplating an action, his mind has already been resolved on what he intends to do --

-- if you'll let him, that is. ]

It was never about not wanting you, love. [ The words are soft and gentle, even if the look in his eyes is clear in their need for you, in his hunger for your skin. ] I wanted to be careful. [ A beat, punctuated by a small chuckle. ] You were pretty convinced that you were straight for a long time.

[ And he wanted to be careful. He's always careful, because he's afraid that somehow, in some way, he might hurt you. He might be the reason why you break. ]

[ How is it that a gesture so simple as your fingers over his skin is enough to rob him of breath and coherent thought? He's pretty sure this isn't just Arcadia's effect on him, because as he voices in a soft and incredibly honest tone: I guess I still have a long way in understanding how a relationship like ours works.

He knew some in theory, but he always did ascribe to what was between two people was private and not something he should think too hard on because it felt intrusive.

His hand is coming up to catch yours, and what he does next is to bring your palm to his lips so he can press a tender kiss to it's center. ]

You don't have to be too careful with me.

[ He means it. He means it with every cell in his body and every thought in his mind. You've introduced him to some pretty unconventional things in the bedroom over the course of the months spanning this whirlwind of a romance between you both. He might have hesitated, but it was always and ever about him being afraid that he might hurt you.

Your minds are linked now, and you'll feel all that: the night after the Hour, the little flirtations that ended in his bedroom; the eve of your birthday. ]

I trust you. [ He always has. ]

[ First, after seeing you the way you respond and hearing you say that, he's going to kiss you. It'll be a slow and thorough explanation of your mouth, like he intends to show you that he loves the way you taste, and that he can drink from nowhere else.

Then he's going to slide his hand away from yours, curl his fingers under your chin and lift it up, so that you can't look anywhere else but into his eyes. That is a gesture that you usually do.

Truly, it is becoming evident that it's high time that he stops being so, ah, considerate, or so careful of the fact that - even after everything - there is still so much that is new to you with regard to the two of you. Maybe, after tonight, there won't be any further need to be. Nevertheless... ]

Are you sure?

[ He has to ask just one more time. ]

Edited 2015-02-15 16:07 (UTC)

[ For a moment -- a very brief one -- when you catch his chin and make it so that he can focus on nothing else but the unique color of your eyes, he actually can't breathe. ]

Yes.

[ He accompanies that murmur with the way he rises up to bridge the space between you, arms wrapping tighter around your torso so that your bodies are pressed so terribly close. ]

Yes, [ he's trembling, even as he dips lets his tongue tease at your lips.

What is it about you that you've invaded every last inch of him? ] I'm sure.

[ And it's both frightening and humbling, to have that trust placed in him. Odd, really: you felt the same way when he told you, earlier this year, that could have his way with him for the first time, didn't you?.

The last thing you'll see before he takes your mouth with his own again is the expression in his eyes: it's dark with want, and with intentions that the Blade King is often hesitant to show any of his lovers precisely because of how much they mean to him. Maybe there won't be time to dwell on that, though, with the way that he's kissing you now: hungry, demanding, and uncompromising. He'll keep kissing you, in fact, even as he reaches out, hooks his limbs about your limbs, and brings you down on the mattress with breathtaking ease before settling his body over yours like he belongs there.

You cage him in place often enough, or had him hover over you. This time feels rather different.

No explanations yet, though. He wants to kiss you senseless. ]

Edited 2015-02-15 16:34 (UTC)

[ There is a sound of pleasure mixed in with surprise when you do that and he reels from what feels like a like of proper oxygen to his brain. He's not complaining in the least. On the contrary, you'll feel him submit: muscles relaxing, his body giving way as you pin him down and tangle your limbs together.

His hands have moved up, up into your hair, fingers threading through the strands and curling possessively for what feels like too brief a moment before they go slack.

God, you're such an amazing kisser and you taste so utterly good.

He could let you do this all night and not mind in the least. As if he could ever mind at all. ]

[ And you're going to feel the way he smiles against your mouth at first- and then he proceeds to top every succeeding deep kiss with a smaller one that worries just at your bottom lip. He also never closes his eyes, because he's intent on watching your face.

Once you're dropping your hands from his hair, he's shifting, trapping your hips between his knees and wrapping your wrists up with his own hands. He's smiling again, by the time he finally breaks away. He also has both of your wrists crossed together and pinned above your head with just one of his hands.

Tilting his head now, like he's appraising the sight of you beneath him as he reaches out to trace the shape of your lips with his free thumb. ]

Let me take a page out of your book and be the one to tell you how beautiful you are this time. [ He's hooking his thumb on your bottom lip now, and coaxing your mouth open so that he can graze your tongue with just the tip of his finger. ] Because of that, I think I'd like to spend tonight fucking this body of yours until you won't be able to do anything else but moan my name, or beg.

Edited 2015-02-15 17:02 (UTC)

[ There's some initial resistance to the way you pin his arms overhead, but largely because while you two have engaged in a variation of power play, you've always put yorself in his care -- even during the first time you came together, inexperienced as he was. It's always been about meeting halfway.

You might be satisfied to note the way he only just manages to look back up at you, given the assault you've decided to wage over his mouth; eyes dark and needy, jaw tightening briefly as he complies.

You have him down now, caged the way he normally cages you, and he is acutely aware of the ache building between his legs. The weight of your gaze makes him swallow. You've watched him before yes, but something's different about tonight. And when his lips part in response without question, he can't help but wonder why it's gotten more difficult to just breathe. ]

Okay. [ His voice sounds surprisingly meek as he's wetting his lips both in nervousness and anticipation. You'll get all of that through the link. You'll also get the sense of underlying wonder that, put simply, is your fiancee being reminded again that you being incredibly decisive and ruthless is such. a. fucking. turn-on. ]

[ There's an arch of an eyebrow at that, and an amused quirk of his lips. Thoroughly fucking somebody in order to show them exactly how much and how well you love them requires a delicate balance of cold control and wild abandon. All of this is a start. ]

Just 'okay'?

[ By the way: the hand that was teasing your mouth is shifting downward, so that you might feel the familiar shape and texture of his palm skimming down your neck, tracing the outline of your chest, and settling over your belly. ]

Don't you want to see how I've always wanted to make you mine?

Edited 2015-02-16 04:06 (UTC)

[ The feel of your hand as it moves over his skin prompts a sharp intake of breath on his part. The muscles of his stomach flex, tightening under your fingers as if bracing for what you might do next. Given how close the both of you are, it'll be easy for you to see the precise way that his pupils dilate, as well as the faint flush at the tips of his ears when you ask him that question.

He wants this. He's wanted this for a while, and just didn't know how to arrange fantasy down to coherent thought, much less articulate into actual words. Please understand that his hesitation has nothing to do with you and everything to with the fact that he's not sure what to do with himself.

You're right when you said that he figured himself straight for a long, long time. It was a logical assumption to make on his part, especially since there hadn't been anything to hint at an attraction to other guys -- which, mind you, is a difficult thing to ignore given the lack of personal space and modesty in a team locker room.

He does know with irrefutable certainty that he wants you, and he is willing to explore anything you think of tossing his way. What better way is there, after all, to test at boundaries than with the person who has made it plenty clear that they will readily burn the world to the ground for you at the slightest provocation. ]

I, uh. [ Breathe. Breathe.. Remember that you can actually string more than two syllables together, LaRue. ] Yes.

Yes, I want to know.

[ He has to tear his gaze away from where your hand is, though fat lot it does because not looking does very little for how his thoughts veer towards how he knows the precise shape of you when he has you in his grip, what it's like to tie you up and hold you down; how it was you who walked him through each experience in the bedroom: always reassuring, patient and understanding of the way ( he might feel ) he's fumbled through.

His heart rate's picked up. He's also doing his best not to let his gaze stray from your face because... well. He can feel you. You are straddling him. It's kind of difficult to miss. ]

Hikaru, [ he can barely hear himself. ] Please.

[ Take him however you like ( he really doesn't fucking mind ) but the suspense is killing him. ]

[ And those words are, honest to Elaine, music to his ears, as is your heart rate at that very moment. It makes him want to see what he needs to do in order to excite you a little more, or draw that specific sort of "please" from your lips again --

-- wait. Who is he kidding? He knows exactly how.

Leaning in now, close enough so that this time, you can feel the amused/pleased curve of his lips against your jaw, before he's letting his tongue trace the line from your chin up until your right ear. He'll then trace said ear, nice and slow, and end it by nibbling, for a few seconds, on the top curve.

He loves the fact that you blush right down to the tips of your ears, by the way. Oh, and the hand he had over your belly was massaging the skin there for a little bit before it moved down, to trace the waistline of the pants you are wearing just once prior to decisively tugging them off, together with your underwear.

After he's brought his nose close to the top of your head and breathed the scent of you in: ]

Be a darling, love, and help me remove the rest of your clothes. I'd like to start to get to know you again right down to your asshole.

[ You know how quiet he gets when he's overwhelmed? He's pretty sure he passed that point the moment you had him on his back, and now that you have him, it seems, right where you've wanted him for a while, he's moving onto breathing quietly through his lips because there just isn't enough oxygen getting to his head.

You feel so good, close as you are, even if all you've done is minimal at best. He'll help you with his clothes all right, quiet as he is, focused as he is on willing himself not too rush like an awkward teenager even if the result is the same: him, flushed and naked and painfully aware that you are treated to just how hard he managed to get during thay brief exchange.

If his throat had gone dry earlier, his mouth hasn't. It's a strange combination really, because yes, you have him trapped beneath you, you are also clearly the one currently calling the shots but his thoughts are going to the way you taste and feel in his mouth.

Swallowing now. He should reply to you, right? But the most he can manage is a half-stuttered attempt at an 'I, uh' and his lips closing again. ]

[ You'll hear him chuckle from above your head, low and amused. ]

You're so cute when you're absolutely speechless.

[ It's a rare treat, really, given how ridiculously glib you can be. Time to make sure that you never get back to that point tonight, then.

He shifts now that your pants and underwear are completely off, nudging your legs further apart with his knees. Then he takes a moment out to lift himself up and away from you, beyond the hand that he has locked around your wrists. He shifts his other hand away from your stomach, and moves it between your legs --

-- but right before you think that he's going to feel you up, he shifts his palm to your left thigh, in order to skim over that smooth, muscled plane. He starts massaging it, making sure that his fingers graze close to your crotch without actually reaching your balls or your hardening cock.

He'll watch you as he does this, from where he's up in the air above you. ]

[ You pull away and it's as if there's far too much space between you're bodies. Rare is the occassion that he's felt like this; then again, he's its not as if he's usually on the receiving end of things when you're both tangled in bed.

His attention turns to your hand when it becomes obvious that you're only getting close enough for it to promise the possibility of you touching him, only to pull away.

Impatience has never written itself out so plainly on your boy's features the way it's doing so now. It's in the frown between his brows, the way his lips part, just enough for him to suck in air, in the set of his jaw when he has to press those lips closed in order to swallow.

It is also, you might note in the way his hips shift, as if he's both trying to figure out a way to get you closer, and yet he's holding back because he did agree to put himself in your care.

No sound from this one, other than the shuddered intakes of breath everytime your hand moves away. ]

Edited 2015-02-17 02:16 (UTC)

[ He enjoys this so much because he usually makes it a point to be indulgent: the moment you ask in the past, he gives. Now he's wondering if he should do this more often, because it's delicious what leaving you wanting seems to do to your body and to the look on your face.

Bending down to take your lips again, in a quiet demand for your mouth to open wide for his and spar with your tongue. That's matched with how his hand shifts, and it only ghosts itself over your cock before settling on your right inner thigh, and massaging it in the same way that he had with your left. ]

[ There's a soft sound that leaves him as he parts his lips to receive you, one that's matched with the way he tries to push up from the bed, and the way the muscles along his arms have tensed as he tests the grip you have on his wrists.

He's always been big on touch. The fact that he can't touch you with his hands is prompting him to compensate with the ones he can: his mouth, his tongue on yours.

There's a hitch in his breath when he feels you come close to touching him, and for a moment, he breaks off from kissing you, settling back to lifting his lips to yours not long after. ]

Touch me, please?

[ He knows, even as the words leave him, that it's likely a useless thing to ask. But you're killing him slowly like this and his cock has hardened even more, as if straining for your hand to take it. ]

[ He was keenly aware of your little internal struggle even before you said anything. As such, Hikaru only goes back to kissing you, and let that go on up until that point where he can feel you really start to get into it. Then he's withdrawing, keeping his face in those critical inches that are - given your current position - too far for you to reach. ]

Not yet.

[ Really: you look lovely like this. ]

[ His breathing is labored when you pull back and he follows you as far as he can, the tendons along his neck tensing as he swallows.

You've never felt so close and so far at the same time. It won't kill him but damn if it isn't driving him a little nuts. ]

Babe, [ that's whispered, low and a little pleading. ] I need you.

[ Kiss him again, come closer. You don't have to touch him if you don't want to yet, but he needs your lips over his own. ]

[ He laughs quietly at your words, and moves his free hand up to stroke the side of your face, lingering, for a moment or so, in your hair. Then he's bending low and just at the side of your head to speak into your ear, moving his lips right at the delicate curb of skin there. ]

I'll indulge you with what you want - touching you, kissing you, fucking you - on one condition: you will ask me for permission to cum.

[ There is something that you've never done with him before. ]

[ You'll hear the way he stops breathing for a little bit, when you get close, and then feel the way he turns his face so that his cheek touches yours.

Give him a moment. He's trying to actually process what you're telling him because he's not... quite sure how that's supposed to work. This isn't something either of you have done before, but never let it be said that he wasn't willing to comply.

He wets his lips again, hunger in his eyes as he offers a nod. ] Whatever you want.

[ He wants this too. His curiosity is also getting the better of him. He still remembers the feel of your finger stroking the crack of his ass. ]

[ Smiling at you, and peering intently at you this entire time. He's always loved how honest you can end up being with him, especially when it's the two of you tangled together, under the sheets. ]

And that is one of the many reasons why I love you. You're so indulgent.

[ The approval is plain in his voice as he withdraws again, so that he's hovering over you and well out of your reach once more. Then he's letting his palm smooth itself over the full length of your body just once before he's finally cupping your balls, massaging each of them, then curling his fingers around your dick.

If this was any other night, he'd be thinking about how your cock is going to fit into him. Right now, though, feeling how hard you are is thinking about how hard he's becoming, and how well his cock is probably going to fit into you.

Turning his head briefly to kiss the side of your face. ]

You can control yourself, can't you? Or you can try to, anyway.

[ For me?

That's whispered into your head. It might feel a bit like the telepathic version of fingers smoothing over the ridges of your spine.

Mind magic is so useful. ]

[ He shivers in response, a quiet sound muffled behind the lips he's pressing together. His forehead drops to your shoulder ( or tries to, anyway; you're close... close enough for him to try. ) You'll feel the way he shifts under your grip, muscles tensing more in anticipation than anxiety as he attempts to make himself comfortable on that bed.

The nervousness eventually creeps back though, to prompt a soft: ] I... I don't -- I'll try.

[ Soft, a little shy. He can't seem to get his mind off how all the blood seems to have sunk to one particular part of his body. ]

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