Fuck. [ ichiro mutters, maybe not the coolest reply in the world, but. how does any human being with eyes react to samatoki saying something like that while he's underneath you making that face. he's not sure if he's more powerful for it or weaker at the knees.
...what ichiro definitely is is undeniably into samatoki. the way he phrased that sent a jolt of electricity down ichiro's spine, and he can't help the grin on his face, a little rakish and wild as he contends with the fact that samatoki's going to ruin in his life, probably.
might as well make the feeling mutual. ichiro cottons onto the affect his hands are having and goes after it, spreading his attention between his chest and the open fly of his pants. he keeps the palm of his dominant hand spread over the front of his underwear, fingers gripped just so, the bump of his ring and the palm of his hand creating a steady run of friction (and letting him get a feel for samatoki, though he's not really looking.)
dipping his head down lets him actually respond, and ichiro pauses with his nose nearly brushing samatoki's chest, his gaze flicking up to look at him through his messy bangs, cheeks flushed, red and green eyes barely a thin ring of color. ] Maybe. [ there's the real answer, less embarrassed as his natural confidence takes over. ] Right here? [ and ichiro ducks down to nip at the skin of his chest, just briefly, to pass his mouth over his nipple, scrape gently with his teeth for the sensation. here. ]
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...what ichiro definitely is is undeniably into samatoki. the way he phrased that sent a jolt of electricity down ichiro's spine, and he can't help the grin on his face, a little rakish and wild as he contends with the fact that samatoki's going to ruin in his life, probably.
might as well make the feeling mutual. ichiro cottons onto the affect his hands are having and goes after it, spreading his attention between his chest and the open fly of his pants. he keeps the palm of his dominant hand spread over the front of his underwear, fingers gripped just so, the bump of his ring and the palm of his hand creating a steady run of friction (and letting him get a feel for samatoki, though he's not really looking.)
dipping his head down lets him actually respond, and ichiro pauses with his nose nearly brushing samatoki's chest, his gaze flicking up to look at him through his messy bangs, cheeks flushed, red and green eyes barely a thin ring of color. ] Maybe. [ there's the real answer, less embarrassed as his natural confidence takes over. ] Right here? [ and ichiro ducks down to nip at the skin of his chest, just briefly, to pass his mouth over his nipple, scrape gently with his teeth for the sensation. here. ]