icarusalsoflew | Waking the Dead 2.0 || August 27, 2063 || Saturday

[ He's tipping your chin up at that and resting his forehead against yours. ]

Shhh. It's okay. Leave it for now. You don't have to take the lion's share. [ He knows he could very well be wrong. He was there, remember? He felt that... that thing. He saw Aidan return only to think, in Kaz's words, that yes, he'd hoped for the Voidseeker to come home -- but not to that. Not to Falner under attack.

But morning is still hours away, and all you're going to do is exhaust yourself emotionally.by thinking on it too hard. ]

Hey, come on, Hikaru. Slow down a little. [ A gentle hand to your cheek as he says that. ]

Edited 2014-05-12 13:06 (UTC)

I'm pretty bad at that, you know. [A beat.] And I don't think I should.

[Not this time. Not while Falner's a mess, and the Other World is expanding, and Grendal is out there. Not while some of the strongest people he knows are starting to crumble.]

[ You're far away again, he can tell by the look in your eyes.

He could... no, no he can't let this lie. Yes, everything you know and love is compromised, but you're tired and you're stressed and he doesn't care if all you need is to sleep for an hour and you're okay, that mind of yours needs to cycle back -- just a little. ]

Hey. Hey, c'mon. Slow down a little. [ Cupping your cheek now and smiling gently. ] Don't make me tie you down.

Edited 2014-05-12 15:52 (UTC)

[And while he's laughing at that, the light in his eyes has shifted.]

I'm almost tempted to take you up on that offer.

[Does he look a little too serious over something that you're probably just joking about?

Yes. He is also immediately regretting the fact that he said that out loud.

Honesty Hour is going to bite him in the ass someday.]

[ It's the look in your eyes that he notes first.

And it's the fact that you look like you're back-pedaling that confirms to him that he isn't seeing things that aren't there. ]

You know, [ his tone is cautious. ] I was trying to make you laugh.

I know, I know.

[Chuckling again. He only does that when he's nervous, and just about shy of skittish. Those tells are coming out all over the place: in his eyes, his tone, and the fact that he's trying to put a little space between the two of you.]

I should just... go.

[Yeah.]

[ Oho, no you don't.

This is Josh effectively caging you against that wall -- which is easy enough since he has you partially pinned against it anyway. ]

Hikaru.

[ Yes, he's using that tone on your name. He's also looking at you with an expression that you'll be familiar with: he's not going to budge on this. ]

[There's a small sound from this one's end, a hitch in his breathing that tells you that he's a little surprised by how firm you're being. ~~He was really hoping that you wouldn't be.~~

No, he can't look at you anymore. Any of the words that he could use in his defense or to draw him out of the mess he's gotten into have also fallen away.]

[ He's quiet at first, watching you avoid his gaze, noting down how your body wants to shy away. He's not sure what it is that's gotten you so skittish... until his mind latches onto what it was that prompted you to be like this in the first place.

He also letting one hand fall to your hip, just as the other ghosts the back of his fingers along your cheek and jaw. ]

What do you want? [ And because he knows you will likely protest, he adds quietly: ] I'm one of yours now, Hikaru. Yours to command as you wish.

[ He would have said that in Japanese, just to emphasize his point, but his lessons with you have been interrupted a lot these last couple of weeks. He also doesn't want to mangle the language when it's the content of what he's saying that's important right now. ]

[Both the words you speak and the way that you say them go right through his heart, and end up reminding him, painfully and perfectly, how difficult it's been to not have you like this, or be with you in this way. Maybe it's a little terrible, just how much he needs you right now. He can dwell on that later --

-- or he could learn, for once, to take it as it is.

The sound of his own breathing sounds way too loud to his ears, just like the hammering of his heart in his chest. He swallows in a bid for calm and an attempt to quell the dryness in his throat, shuts his eyes for longer than a blink, and finally looks up at you.]

That goes both ways. [Because the Wolf of Zangyaku existed for Zangyaku just as much as his oni-tsukai existed for him.] And the lot of you took me down two days ago. I'm at your disposal.

[Then, softly because it's hard to talk over the emotions stopping up his throat and the lingering concern that breadth of his need for you will end up scaring you away:]

I want to be at your disposal tonight.

[Because you've always been so damned good at getting him to slow down, sit still, and see things for what they actually were instead of seeing them through the lens of his anger, his hurt, or his regret.]

Edited 2014-05-13 04:06 (UTC)

[ His hands are moving up and down your arms again. You're skittish ( he can practically feel that off you ) and emotional ( he can hear that in your voice ) and you're turning things around again and offering yourself up.

Forehead to yours, for the nth time tonight. ]

Tell me what you want. [ The please is in the way those words fall. ] Tell me what you need from me.

[You're so damned good to him that it is occasionally enough to make him ache. This moment is one of those occasions.]

I meant what I said. [Pausing for a moment, then speaking with a little more certainty than he had moments agos.] You're the only person who can make me slow down and keep me in place.

[There were others, of course, and there will probably be others in the future), but none of that matters right now.]

Can you do that for me?

[ How you know what to say to make him feel both like his heart is to full and yet so capable of so much more, he has no idea. ]

I can, [ he leans in to slant his lips over yours again at that, just has his fingers are moving to the belt he's unbuckled at your waist to slide it out of the loops of your pants. ] You'll tell me though, right?

[ You can probably tell, that he's a little nervous about this. ]

If you want me to stop?

I trust you.

[That is his way of telling you that you don't need to worry about a thing. He has had to handle terrible things, and been the recipient of much darker urges, forces and intent that had been geared towards hurting him.

This is a far cry from any of that. Besides, laying himself down like this for you is a big step with one like the Blade King. He hates being vulnerable, and rarely stands for letting anyone put him in a position where he can do little else but take whatever is offered to him. Him allowing that means that he believes that the person he's lain himself down in front of knows exactly how to hold him down, take him out of himself, keep him still long enough to force him to put himself back together.]

[ He feels the weight of those three words like a charge, one that he is ready to take on, just as he is ready to hold onto them like a metaphorical life line.

Have a kiss then, soft and tender over your lips before he takes your hand to lead you both back towards the bed. He'll sit down at the very edge and look up at you with a slightly nervous gaze.

He's never done anything like this before. You'd know. You've given him so many firsts. ]

I saw... [ dammit, how to word this.

( He's also blushing a little bit. ) ]

I've seen you tied down before.

[ Sorry. He doesn't know how to put it any better. ]

Oh?

[That is murmured over your lips, as he's closing the distance between the two of you by putting one knee up between your legs, latching unto your arms with his hands, and leaning in.

He's not too surprised to hear that. He and Makoto had some interesting times.]

I'm... [ he's having a hard time thinking now that your mouth is over his. He's also remembering the way you'd looked in that memory. ] I'm not sure if I can go that far.

[ They're different, he and Makoto. This is different, too. The way you are with each other. ]

But if you want me to... I'll try?

[ It's an admission, in it's own way, that the idea of you tied up might possibly turn him on. After all, he's got that belt in his hand, right? ]

[Pulling back now, to look right into your eyes.]

Use me.

[It's a soft statement, and he's said such a thing before. Not just to Makoto too.]

Use me as you will.

[Because he trusts you.]

[ He's going to pull you down and drag you close before he actually loses his nerve, relieve you of that shirt of yours so that he can track kisses up in a line over your heart. Several breaths later, that's his mouth slanting over yours, fingers curling around your wrists as he guides your arms over your head, as he manages to slide the edge of the belt through the loop before drawing it tight so that you are finally bound.

When he lets you go, his hands have come back down to frame your face and you'll feel that he's trembling, that he's a little shaky, plenty nervous before he's kissing you again: thorough and breathless, teeth catching on your lower lip as he lowers you both onto the mattress. ]

[And he's pliant in your grip all the way until the end, careful to respond to everything that you choose to give him just as he takes pains to show you that you are the one in control and he is the one at your disposal. You'll see it best once you finally have him against the sheets: it's written out in the darkened look that he turns in your direction, in the soft gasp of his breath and the slight flush staining his cheeks.

Has he thought about being in such a position with you? Yes, only too many times. Has he always been too careful, too certain that he could not ask you to do something like this for him, to him? Yes, perhaps he has been.

Maybe another way of looking at it, though, is that he has always been perfectly fine with being vulnerable, of exposing the darkest facets of himself to you. This little exercise is just a much more concrete way of showing it. Of course, the control of the situation is in your hands, not his.]

[ It'a criminal, really, how he finds you so appealing, so beautiful, and so painfully desirable. He has asked himself each time that the two of you are alone together like this ( okay, not exactly like this, but you get the picture ) how is it possible to ache so much fron want, to feel the twist of need in his gut from a single look from yourself.

He's skimming his hands worshipfully over the skin of your torso now, bending down to press his mouth against the planes of your body, each kiss slow and tender as if he were memorizing every inch of you.

That's his hand moving down as well, so that he can feel you up, fingers tracing the shape of you beneath the fabric of your pants, even as he sighs against the area of your ribcage. ]

[And it's like his body - his skin, the nerves beneath it, his limbs - always wakes up and takes on a life of its own much against his will every time your mouth or your hands move over him. It always heats him up, always makes him feel a little too trapped and far too sensitive to every other detail about the way you're tangled together: the contrast of the cool bed sheets beneath him, the stutter of his own breath, your weight over his body, your presence hovering above him, and now the firm, tight solidity of his own belt keeping his wrists lashed together.

Then there's your hand over him and the heat of your breath over his body and it's enough to make the entirety of him tremble. He chokes a bit on his own voice, swallowing it before it could turn into a full-blown moan: it becomes a tiny, needy little noise instead, and a shudder of air in his lungs. What he can't stop, though, is how his hips rose, as if they wanted nothing more but to press closer to you.]

[ There's a smile tugging on his lips as he tracks kisses over your skin when he hears you make that sound, and he can't help the way he nips at your flesh when your hips rise up to meet him, teeth scraping over flesh as he works you up slow.

That goes on for a while, because he wants to stretch this out as far as he can let it, he wants to feel you grow hard beneath his palm, feel your body writhe beneath his ministrations, even as his tongue occasionally flicks out to taste the salt of your skin, as his lips brand you sweetly as his.

He's not going to thank Makoto for that little memory in his head just yet. You had your thing, and that, like with the others is yours and theirs as it is rightfully so. But you're with him now, and he wants to give you something new to remember, at least, as best as he can. ]

[He tells himself, initially, that he is fine with the pace that you've chosen for the both of them, that he can let you have him as you will.

That changes somewhere down the line, as he heats up beneath you, as his own body betrays him in favor of its desperate need for you. Said change must be remarkable to watch, because it rises to the surface slowly, writing itself out in the way the look on this one's face shifts to match the crumbling of his will in the face of the (torturous) way that you're working him up, the erratic buck of his hips, the raggedness of his breathing, the pant of his lips and the shadows in his eyes. He has also started to tremble in earnest, right down to the helpless grasp of his fingers in the air/the way he involuntarily tries to tug at the belt keeping his wrists together and is met full on with resistance.

A broken noise leaves his lips the moment he's impossibly hard in your grip (it matches the way the lust is clawing at his lungs, spilling over into everything else), and then he's biting down on his lip, pressing the side of his face against the bedsheets in a desperate attempt to find some way at cooling down, or maybe hiding the fact that he's blushing.

He shouldn't beg, he shouldn't ask. He's yours: he's said it himself. He's at your disposal, for you to do as you please.]

[ He feels the way you move, the way your body arches upward into his touch and it takes a supreme effort to not just take, to resist the urge to strip you completely bare in front of him. But your pleasure has always been his, he has always wanted to give than just take because you've given him so, so much and yet ask for so little in return. ]

Look at me, [ that whisper sounds loud in the silence of the room, that hum of the airconditioner the only other thing filling the silence above the sounds you've been making, and the rustle of the sheets beneath you both. ] Hikaru, I need you to look at me.

[ Need, not want because wanting is a choice sometimes, but need is more visceral and encapsulates better the way he feels when he thinks of you. It puts him at your mercy as much as you say you are at his.

He'll wait for you to look his way before he whispers again, over your skin, gaze unblinking: ] Ask.

You're not the only one who's tied up. You're not the only one bound.

[ He is one of yours now, remember? And he put that rope around his neck willingly. ]

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