[ forget working with any actual function of his brain right now--ichiro's all instinct, feeling the rise of heat that comes with samatoki's growl and the sudden increase in friction and pressure. they're both close enough to naked now that it's beyond exciting, and ichiro can't help himself, moving a hand to hook onto his thigh and grind against him just to feel it--
but samatoki moves him, and ichiro almost feels his mouth water. jesus. he strokes his fingers right where samatoki wants them just because he can, then drags them back up to his tip where it's wet with precum, reaching as far as he can without disconnecting them with his other hand to get the drawer open.
he's seriously grinning now, unabl to help himself as he fumbles around like an idiot until his hand grasps around the bottle. ichiro pulls back and sits back on his heels, samatoki's leg still around his waist, and goes to wet his fingers, taking that moment to look him over, eyes dark. god. god.
the staring doesn't last too long, though--a little nudge of encouragement has him bringing his now wet fingers down to his entrance and stroking across the ring of muscle just because his frustrated, turned on face is maybe a little cute, and he maintains eye contact when he finally presses in, too, like he can't stop staring. (he can't.) ]
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but samatoki moves him, and ichiro almost feels his mouth water. jesus. he strokes his fingers right where samatoki wants them just because he can, then drags them back up to his tip where it's wet with precum, reaching as far as he can without disconnecting them with his other hand to get the drawer open.
he's seriously grinning now, unabl to help himself as he fumbles around like an idiot until his hand grasps around the bottle. ichiro pulls back and sits back on his heels, samatoki's leg still around his waist, and goes to wet his fingers, taking that moment to look him over, eyes dark. god. god.
the staring doesn't last too long, though--a little nudge of encouragement has him bringing his now wet fingers down to his entrance and stroking across the ring of muscle just because his frustrated, turned on face is maybe a little cute, and he maintains eye contact when he finally presses in, too, like he can't stop staring. (he can't.) ]