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

[ And of course, since he's not quite back to his usual level of glib, all he manages to do is to blink up at you at first before he turns his head to the side.

He is pretty damn sure that his face is red. He can feel the way his ears feel so hot. He's also distracted by the way you've got him in your hand, the way you're feeling him up and tempting him to move his hips so that he can rub up better against your palm.

He looks, in a phrase, a little lost. You're not done with him yet and he has absolutely no clue what to expect. You're also such a force to be reckoned with, like this. It's a complete turnaround from when you both previously came together, when you put yourself in his care and he thought the pace of your lovemaking was mostly in his hands. ]

[ This is too cute. He'll forgive you for not being able to look at him, because it gives him an opportunity to lavish some attention upon your neck. He keeps the way that he's touching you between your legs feather-light, just enough to make you feel good without working you up too much.

There's a reason for this, of course, and a reason why he's keeping you busy with the way he's attending to you now. Said reasons are coming around on another table, willed to this particular side of the tent by your fiance's will.

Sweetly in your ear, just after he's kissed another line up your jaw: ]

You trust me, right? You want me to do whatever it takes to make you feel good tonight, don't you?

[ He does. He really does, there's no question about that. He should also tell you.]

Of course I-- [ and he's finally catching sight of that table and while he can't quite make out what's on it, you'll note that rather visible swallow and the minute way that he tenses beneath your hands.

( Where did those-- no, it should be: why are those even here? You're on the road, on a diplomatic mission to-- )

Okay. Full stop. Don't think too hard on it, you might hurt yourself, Josh. But his curiosity and surprise write themselves out in the way he turns his attention away from the table and back to you: tongue darting out to wet his chapped lips, jaw tensing whenever he closes his mouth from a breath. This is feeling a bit... no, plenty intense.

How long have you been thinking about him this way? ]

Edited 2015-03-01 15:02 (UTC)

[ Here: let him try to kiss a bit of that tension away, and continue covering you with your body in a way of offering up something that you can get lost in for a little longer.

...Granted, that isn't stopping him from slipping his arms under your body and lifting you up, where you can straddle his lap in a similar fashion to the position you so favor when you're the one fucking him.

(Let's not answer your question just yet, at least not directly. Maybe, if you truly will let him, you'll see it for yourself.) ]

[ Forgive him if the surprise is registering on his features just as he instinctively shies away. He forgets sometimes, that while you are built along lean and compact lines, that you're stronger than him several hands down.

If he looks tense, it's less about how your roles are reversed and more about the fact that he's not quite sure what to do with how he's incredibly turned on. He probably looks so terribly young right now, so utterly out of his depth but wholly willing to take whatever you want to give him.

Those are his arms wrapping themselves almost shyly around your shoulders, just as his gaze searches yours, a smile tugging hesitantly at the corner of his mouth. ] I'm feeling a little out of my depth here, babe.

[ Getting a pretty accurate read of that, which is why he decidedly doesn't slow down, or check to see if anything's wrong. He knows your body well (even better now, in fact, that he used to), and he's also becoming incredibly adept at reading into all of your tells, sometimes even better than you get a sense of yourself and your own needs. ]

Just trust me? I've got you.

[ It's firm and gentle all in the same breath, and matched with his hands on both sides of your face, all but pushing you to look at him and only him.

You need to relax, you need to stop overthinking, you need to let yourself enjoy this. You will, after all, be much better for it after he's finished with you. ]

[ The tension begins to seem away when your hands frame his face, and he lets his arms go slack over your shoulders, right hand idly toying with the hair at your nape. ]

Okay.

[ This feels oddly like that first time in Seigi, when you'd guided him through the logistics of how it would work between you two. You've never steered him wrong, not once. Trusting you can be as instinctive as breathing. ]

Kiss me again? [ If he sounds shy, it's because he kind of is. ] Please?

[ He'll smile at you as he sets his forehead right against yours, and hold you like that for a heartbeat before he's very carefully and gently capturing your mouth with his.

He will kiss you until you're relaxed and pliant in his grip once again, to give you time to settle down and re-learn how to get lost within him. ]

[ It takes a bit before the way you're kissing him does wonders for the tension along his shoulders and upper arms. Before the way he relaxes starts to show in the way that he sinks against your body. ]

Hikaru-- [ a breath, now. ] I'm... I-I'm not crushing you, am I?

[ It feels silly the moment the words leave his lips, because you've just drawn him close as if he weighed next to nothing. He isn't stalling -- please don't think that. He wants this. It just feels like a thing he should worry about: you're much shorter and much slighter than he is, and since this is new territory... he really doesn't want to trip up.

You're free to feel the way his hands wander over your form, palms and fingers following the shape of your torso with each dip and angle and line. You're so, so warm. So solid and real -- the mere sight of you makes him crave so much and he doesn't know if that's just him or something else about Arcadia making everything so much more than it normally would feel.

At the risk of sounding like someone who hasn't shared your bed before: it's terrifying; feeling this much want. ]

[ A soft laugh. ]

Don't worry about me. Worry more about yourself.

[ Saying that right before kissing you, and then he's snagging one of your hands just as he breaks away from your mouth. He runs his lips, though, over your knuckles just once before tugging you back with him. ]

Lean against me.

[ That is what he tells you, once his back is against the headboard. The table that he summoned earlier is not quite within reach for him, but it does not matter: the things on top of it will come they're summoned.

Said things happen to be a pool of silken cords, a ball gag, and a long, black metal bar with leather cuffs attached to either side of them. ]

[ The only reason he doesn't turn around right away is because of how he lets his eyes roam over you, as if memorizing your shape. When he does though, he leans back against you and wills himself to relax. It helps, of course, that this is you. And that you've always struck him as perfectly capable in each and every thing that you apply yourself to.

The sight of the things on the table though, are making him nervous again. You've both tried experimenting back home. But everything there had been improvised, things either you or him thought up in the heat of the moment.

These items have nothing "improvised" about them. He is also wondering, and not for the first time tonight ( which you will be able to tell from the mess of his thoughts as he's unable to filter ) why you have them. Here, now. ]

[ He'll draw his legs and knees up on either side of your body now, and frame you with himself as he starts kissing the side of your face. ]

I'm going to make you feel even better than you did earlier with those.

[ It's a quiet and steady promise, as solid as that collection of tools that is sliding over to rest on the bedsheets easily within Hikaru's reach. Even as one of his hands is skimming its fingers down the full length of your arm before snagging right at your wrist and drawing it behind your back. ]

[ He lets you do that, draw his hand over behind his back with relative ease. He's not going to fight you on this, not when he wants to see this through.

The bar does not make him nervous. Neither do the cords. It's the gag that does, but he tears his eyes away from it and focuses instead on your voice and the way you're touching him. His breathing is deliberately steady, or at least, he's trying to make it steady. It's harder than it should be, since this is turning him on. ]

[ The first cords that slid into his hands goes around your wrists, binding them tightly together. The next are wrapped about at a spot exactly between your elbows and your hands. The third tie your upper arms together.

He pauses there, in order to tilt your chin up and kiss your mouth: another silent reassurance, a means to give you time to get used to having your arms bound behind your back, and an excuse to enjoy the way that you taste. He's always been hooked on it.

Once he's come up for air, he snags some of his fingers on your bottom lip and says this over your mouth: ]

Draw your knees up towards your body and close your eyes.

[ He can feel the press of the cord into his flesh, but he does not have the words to tell you how the hitch in his breathing, the skip in his heartbeat, is slowly becoming more out of anticipation than an outright resistance to this.

He follows those instructions without question, drawing his knees up and shifting his weight before he closes his eyes. ]

[ One day, he is going to look back to this exchange between the two of you and marvel at how perfectly beautiful it was, seeing you completely submit yourself to him for the first time.

He nips at the crook of your shoulder, briefly pressing his nose against your skin in order to breathe you in once again before bending, fetching the spreader bar that has obediently positioned itself right where he needs it. You'll feel and hear, in the silence that follows, the way he takes hold of your ankles, slides the leather around them, pulls in tight, and buckles them both down. The bar is wide enough, it seems, to keep your legs spread a good distance apart without difficulty, effectively leaving you exposed.

The next sensation that follows is silk over your eyes, and your boy tying the knot firmly behind your head. Then there are fingers tracing your lips, and his voice back in your ear. ]

Open your mouth for me.

[ Here is the moment he hesitates.

Forgive him, the gag is the most intimidating item in this set. Yes, you have both played around with blindfolds, but this will rob him of speech and the idea is a little difficult for him to wrap his head around. Yes, you gave him a little preview of what it would feel like, but thinking about it is a whole other animal from the actual thing.

But he trusts you. He wants to do this for you. So you'll see the way he swallows, feel the tremor that goes through him before he parts his lips for you.

He trusts you. This can't be so bad if you're fine with it. And you have never once done him wrong. ]

[ And this is what he does in response: he turns your face towards him and brings your lips together. He kisses you like he wants to taste every part and inch of your mouth, like he owns you but owning you isn't enough to satisfy him. He draws this out, sparring with your tongue, letting you enjoy this as much as he is enjoying you.

When the moment is done, while you are still breathless from the way he's ravished and bruised your mouth with his affections, he's slipping the ball gag into place, pushing it back just far enough to force your lips apart into a circumference that is a little wider than what it would have been if you had placed your mouth on him, and securing it tightly behind your head, just like how he had done with the blindfold over your eyes.

He is quiet as he busies his hands with moving over your body. One of them wraps around your neck and curls its fingers under your chin, forcing you to tilt your head up to where you'll hear him breathing, and maybe feel the ghost-like graze of his hair close to your face. The other hand skims down your body, over your sweat-drenched and oil-slicked muscles, and draws tight over your belly and around your waist, so that he might massage your left thigh. ]

Try to imagine that the gag I've fitted you with are my fingers in your mouth, or perhaps my cock between your lips. It might help.

[ It is a small sacrifice, really, gagging you. Nevertheless, while he won't get to kiss you nearly as much, now he will get to study how it changes the way you sound for him.

Ah, yes: ]

You'll need to ask permission again too, if you want to cum. All you have to do is nod when I ask you.

[ He knows all the signs that point towards you teetering close to the edge, beyond how you start to sound when the high begins to wash over your body. It's time to take advantage of that. ]

[ It's the change in his breathing that'll catch your attention first, alongside the shiver that goes through him as he listens to you speak. There's some discomfort at the gag, but it's mostly the newness of it all, and the idea that his mouth will be like this for as long as you deem it necessary. Breathing is not as difficult as he thought it would be, and when you suggest he think of it as if he had his mouth on your cock, it does make this marginally easier.

The blindfold has robbed him of any other distractions, anything else that he might turn to when things between you both get more intense. Right now, your voice feels like a force unto itself and his skin seems to come alive where you're touching him.

As furrowed as his brow looks, there's the hum of expectation in his bones. The cuffs at his ankles restrict his movement, and in strange way they calm him in the same way that the restraints on his arms do.

This isn't... as frightening as he thought it would be. In fact, the picking up of his heartbeat is directly proportional to his awareness over how this is turning him on. ]

[ That is exactly the kind of reaction that your boy was hoping for, even though he had already been right about certain that he would get it. He has, after all, firsthand experience in the matter.

He keeps the hand that he has on your neck in place, but starts moving the other up and away from your leg. He lets his palm rub lazy circles over your belly, matching how he has started nibbling/licking your ear, and then - as he lets his mouth start placing a new line of kisses/bite marks down your neck - he's lightly scratching his nails around your nipples before worrying at both of them.

Yes, he takes his time with all of that. He wants to see how it'll effect you, especially since this is your first time being bound, and you must still be incredibly sensitive from the oil. ]

[ He never knew that foreplay could tear you to shreds, that it could drive you so much to distraction that you would want to beg for release.

It's not so bad in the beginning. You'll even see it in the way that his head tilts to one side, therefore giving you so much more access to his neck, because the way you're kissing him is delicious, and the low sounds that leave him affirm that. If the gag were not in place, he might he worrying at his lip now, but you are right about the way that ball fits inside of his mouth. He lets his thoughts roam as you touch him, the image of you on your back as he sucks you off coming easily.

It's an interesting play in contrasts. Maybe he'll get to tell you that at some point, that he was filing things away at first. In so many ways, you have been a teacher to him, and as immersive as your lovemaking can be, it has also always been instructional.

But the oil makes his skin heat up, and after awhile what you are doing to his body takes more and more of his attention and he remembers that you are doing this to him, that he is tied up and cannot move at his leisure.

He's trying not to lean forward, because the urge to rub himself into the sheets is strong. But he's struggling with himself and with the things you are making him feel since he is standing erect now, hard and quivering and leaking, even if you have not yet touched him there.

You told him he had to ask for permission. It seemed easy at first but when his mind and body are so full of static, it's a little difficult to focus long enough on getting his request across.

The sounds around the ball gag are more urgent now, often cut short as he sucks air in around it. The muscles in his arms and legs have gone taut again and you can see how the bindings dig into his skin. ]

[ You'll feel, then, the appreciative hum in your boy's throat right up against your neck, and how it tapers out into a reverent sigh. ]

This is how you look right now.

[ He tilts your face upward so that he can murmur that into your ear. Then he's letting a thought brush over your brain, much like the fingers he had been ghosting over your body: a psychic projection of the very scene that you can't see. You trussed up, looking thoroughly strung out and overwhelmed with lust against his body. Him, holding fast to your neck, violet eyes at half-mast, smiling that crooked smile that you probably were in love with before you even realized it.

He keeps the image up, so that you can watch the way you react to slight flex of the fingers he has under your chin/around your throat, the open-mouthed kisses he has started to place along your neck and shoulder, and the slow crawl of his hand down to your dick. At least he's wrapping his free hand lovingly around you. He could have easily decided to tease you more.

No, he won't start getting you off just yet. This needs to be taken step by step, especially since he's pretty much given you the telepathic equivalent of a mirror. ]

[ You'll see ( and so will he, because while you can turn away from mirrors, telepathic projections go straight into your mind ) the way his lips tighten over the ball-gag in time to the sharp intake of breath that is just not anywhere near enough.

There's a sound of relief when you curl your fingers around him, followed by the way his Adam's apple shifts as he swallows in an effort to wet his seemingly bone-dry throat. That relief is short-lived though, because the heat of your palm folded around him is reminding his skin that the oil has seeped through and he's resisting the urge to rock against you because he knows any more friction will make things so much worse.

He looks terribly young tonight, trussed up like this. It's surreal on his part, but perhaps its because the image he's seeing has an edge of the unreal to it. You look exactly like the god you are named for in the Lightless Lands ( was it the reverse though? that Izanami was borne into existence because of you? he forgets... ) and there he is: bound and captive in your loving embrace. ]

[ And he holds fast, because he can clearly trace the way that conflict - to struggle, to stay still - is threading up on in your muscles, making you practically quiver with the sensory overload that you're getting in his arms. He'll work at at marking you, then, along your shoulder, from crook to just before the point where your arm begins.

While he is busy with that, he presses his arm down over your waist and hips and pulls you in closer towards his body in a way that lets your fingers grasp at how hard he is starting to become between the small of your back and his stomach. Then he's taking you higher with full, hard strokes. You're so beautifully hot and fit remarkably well into his palm, and he'd like you to see that for yourself. As such, he's keeping the projection up a little longer, just to show you, firsthand, the steps that you go through on the way to a breakdown. ]

Remember to ask.

[ That is voiced low and and dark with his desire over the bruises that he is leaving on your skin. ]

[ There is a low and hitched sound as his head bows from the weight of his desire, from the need to curl up because the ache in his cock has spread outward to the rest of him.

Try as he might, he can't turn away form that projected image into his mind and he mutely notes the little things: how his toes have curled into the sheets, how his knees attempt to fold his legs in. When you take him higher, harder, he breathes a gasp against that gag and turns his face up, leaning back helplessly into the solidness of your body.

There's a hum in his throat and chest now, and it trembles between his lips like a plea. Please, love. He doesn't know how to ask. He remembers, he really does. But how else can he tell you if he can't speak except in the way every inch of him tenses, or the way he is attempting to shift backwards and further into your embrace because he wants you so damned much.

Those are his fingers curling against you now, the gesture almost feeble as he feels the heat hum beneath his skin. You're so hard and he remembers all-too well how snug you were inside of him -- it's more than enough to drive him nuts.

Please, Hikaru. He doesn't know how much longer he can hold out, or what other way he can tell you that he is asking for your permission. ]

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