[ every noise samatoki makes is incredible, if only for the sheer fact that ichiro's causing it; it makes him go at it with gusto, zeroing in on any spot that gets a reaction. his hand squeezes again, rocking into the friction samatoki gives him to get another gasp, and then the sound of his name (he could listen to that the rest of his life.)
with an "mmfft", he immediately dives in to kiss him again, just fine to let samatoki kiss his brains out. ichiro's noises are more common, soft and needy, and he returns the kiss enthusiastically, arching his back up into samatoki's touches. he adjusts his weight, shifts to put his forearm near samatoki's head, but it doesn't last long, because the second samatoki gets his hand on him, finally, he remembers exactly how fucking turned on he is and grinds down into it almost immediately. the relief is exactly what he wanted, and he breaks off of the kiss, just barely far from his mouth, to let out a tiny, breathy laugh, overwhelmed and thrilled all at once-- ] FFffuck this--
[ because he does not have the patience for all of this teasing, anymore!! ichiro pushes up to get his other knee on the bed so he can yank out his belt and toss it on the ground beside the bed, arching into samatoki's palm and pushing the top of his jeans out of the way. it's still obnoxious and there, but it lets him return the favor for samatoki, too, clearly eager as hell to get that skin on skin contact too. ]
( the only time samatoki pulls away from the kiss is when ichiro breaks it first, mostly to laugh and indicate how sick he is of the teasing. sure, that's fine. samatoki is pretty much at his breaking point too, but he didn't want to be the first one to crack so—this works out. he lets ichiro shuffle out of his pants before pulling him back in for a kiss, mostly as a distraction.
he's been rewarding the brat with so many little gasps and noises so he wants to draw out more from him too. and now that the pants are out of the way, it makes it easy for him to slip his hand inside ichiro's underwear to finally, finally touch him with no barriers involved. calloused fingers wrapped around him, teasing the underside with a few light touches before he starts playing with the tip.
his only hope is ichiro doesn't get too lost in the feeling to start neglecting him. )
[ samatoki gets exactly what he wants. ichiro's noise is long and low and rattles in his chest, because even just that first touch breaks a tension that's been going on for months. he rolls into the touch immediately, hips grinding forward against the teasing touch and getting more.
how is he supposed to keep moving, jesus. ichiro's brain needs a second to restart, but he won't let samatoki down: even as his hips roll forward and his eyes flutter shut. the laugh made him smile, too, enough that when he comes back over him to kiss him it's still felt on his lips.
he will ungracefully now start getting samatoki out of his pants, too. the angle's not ideal for it, but he wants that bare skin too, and he manages to tug them down enough that they're out of his way. ichiro reaches for underneath to grab samatoki's thigh, pulling his leg up to rest against his own hip, hand trailing along now, perfectly pale, bared skin, squeezing against the strong muscle there to hike him closer. ]
( it really has been months filled with the two of them dancing around each other, building up the unresolved tension with no end in sight — until today. samatoki groans again when he feels ichiro grind against him, the friction too much for his brain to process all of a sudden. maybe it's because of the noises ichiro just gave him; it must have affected him more than he expected, not that he's complaining.
he helps ichiro in his conquest to absolve him of his pants, shimmying out of them so he's basically naked underneath the other. the thought is enough to send another rush of heat rolling through him, and he's so lost in the feeling that he doesn't realize ichiro has wrapped his leg around his waist, making it easier to pull him close. closer still. )
Come on.
( it's a half-growl, borne out of impatience. their foreplay has dragged on long enough. he wants to feel ichiro soon before he loses his goddamn mind so he reaches for one of his hands, guides it to where he wants to be touched. )
Lube's in the bedside drawer, if you're wondering.
[ 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.) ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
with an "mmfft", he immediately dives in to kiss him again, just fine to let samatoki kiss his brains out. ichiro's noises are more common, soft and needy, and he returns the kiss enthusiastically, arching his back up into samatoki's touches. he adjusts his weight, shifts to put his forearm near samatoki's head, but it doesn't last long, because the second samatoki gets his hand on him, finally, he remembers exactly how fucking turned on he is and grinds down into it almost immediately. the relief is exactly what he wanted, and he breaks off of the kiss, just barely far from his mouth, to let out a tiny, breathy laugh, overwhelmed and thrilled all at once-- ] FFffuck this--
[ because he does not have the patience for all of this teasing, anymore!! ichiro pushes up to get his other knee on the bed so he can yank out his belt and toss it on the ground beside the bed, arching into samatoki's palm and pushing the top of his jeans out of the way. it's still obnoxious and there, but it lets him return the favor for samatoki, too, clearly eager as hell to get that skin on skin contact too. ]
no subject
he's been rewarding the brat with so many little gasps and noises so he wants to draw out more from him too. and now that the pants are out of the way, it makes it easy for him to slip his hand inside ichiro's underwear to finally, finally touch him with no barriers involved. calloused fingers wrapped around him, teasing the underside with a few light touches before he starts playing with the tip.
his only hope is ichiro doesn't get too lost in the feeling to start neglecting him. )
no subject
how is he supposed to keep moving, jesus. ichiro's brain needs a second to restart, but he won't let samatoki down: even as his hips roll forward and his eyes flutter shut. the laugh made him smile, too, enough that when he comes back over him to kiss him it's still felt on his lips.
he will ungracefully now start getting samatoki out of his pants, too. the angle's not ideal for it, but he wants that bare skin too, and he manages to tug them down enough that they're out of his way. ichiro reaches for underneath to grab samatoki's thigh, pulling his leg up to rest against his own hip, hand trailing along now, perfectly pale, bared skin, squeezing against the strong muscle there to hike him closer. ]
no subject
he helps ichiro in his conquest to absolve him of his pants, shimmying out of them so he's basically naked underneath the other. the thought is enough to send another rush of heat rolling through him, and he's so lost in the feeling that he doesn't realize ichiro has wrapped his leg around his waist, making it easier to pull him close. closer still. )
Come on.
( it's a half-growl, borne out of impatience. their foreplay has dragged on long enough. he wants to feel ichiro soon before he loses his goddamn mind so he reaches for one of his hands, guides it to where he wants to be touched. )
Lube's in the bedside drawer, if you're wondering.
no subject
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.) ]