savior_n_black | Private RP || Golden Afternoon|| ilpromenade ; NSFW! BOY LOVE WIT

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Private RP || Golden Afternoon|| ilpromenade ; NSFW! BOY LOVE WIT

[ A damp, spring breeze stirred half-drawn curtains against the windowsill, the view below of a bed of early irises; the scent mixing with new, green shoots to create a wonderfully clean perfume. Inside a small, modest bedroom with a large wardrobe, Ichigo lay on top of his cotton bedclothes in jeans and a T-shirt, breath stirring the soft crown of Shiro's hair. A slight sigh of pleasure stirred the snow white hair as he shifted in his half-asleep state, and felt the warmth of another body pressed into the curve of his.

Rolling over in his sleep, he snuggles in closer. A forearm cinched around the other's waist, and Ichigo buried his nose against the back of the hollow's neck, parted lips damp with the hot breath of slumber as they grazed their way up to the short, downy tufts at the base of his skull. Like any teenage boy his body started to react to the pleasant form aligned against the planes of his chest, and stomach and he subconsciously fit his hips snug against a firm bottom, effectively a warm, heavy blanket of pure boy as he panted against sweat-dewy skin, muscles relaxing into the firm slopes, and planes of white skin. ]

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[ Orange locks are turning more rusty-colored as sweat dampens them, but Ichigo unconsciously tilted his head toward the touch of Shiro's palm. But then the hollow was lightly running his hands over Ichigo's chest, and he has to fight to hang onto the thread of what he was saying; ]

Feels - nnh - f-feels like skin...like a scar - ah!

[ It's safe to say that sucking more lovebites into being over Ichigo's chest worked him up enough to forget the thread of conversation completely - in fact it makes what control he has over his mouth start to unravel too.
His legs tighten, hips rocking as his body strains for more contact. Hands run down Shiro's sides before raking back up a spine, this time keeping well clear of the hollow hole. But, unbelievable as it is, it's an almost instinctual trust when he feels teeth that has Ichigo panting. His jaw clenches, trying to hold back a needy groan, and failing badly. His head tilts back to acquire more of those nips, hips trying to encourage the hollow to get on with it as Ichigo was all but writhing from impatience, and foreplay alone. ]

Edited 2011-04-05 05:23 (UTC)

[Yep, Ichigo was pretty much gone. His brain had checked out in favor of his body. Fine. No more talking; they can discuss the intricacies of a Hollow's Chain of Fate hole later. Now really wasn't the best time.

His kisses and bites keep working their way down, but he keeps his claws on Ichigo's pecs, running them over his nipples and the scars there carefully. One of his bites is a little too much for the boy's skin, and it leaks a bit of red blood, which the Hollow quickly sucks up.

But he can see and feel his other's impatience, so he keeps going down, reaching the top of Ichigo's undone pants and underwear, still tented so painfully. Brushing his hand over the somewhat darker, but still undoubtedly orange hair there, the Hollow's hands comes down and pull the top of his jeans and boxers out of the way, revealing, finally, that sweaty, throbbing erection that mirrored how his own had looked mere moments ago.

Tracing talons down the underside then back up again, and eliciting a few drops of precum in the process, the Hollow finally sets to work, licking the fluid off and all down the shaft. It was salty and sweaty and so very Ichigo. He loved it.]

[ Ichigo's head thumped back onto the mattress, a groan spilling forth, throaty and laced with relief as he sinks a hand into Shiro's hair, trying with drowning reason to remember not to pull. Hips writhe against his own desire to feel more of those incredible sensations and refrain from shoving his dick in Shiro's face. It just seems ... impolite, as ridiculous as that sounds. ]

Fuck, why do you, that feels, Shiro, Shiro ...

[ His mouth is apparently running away from him still, but Ichigo has no experience with this sort of thing, and no way to repress those sounds. Hell, Ichigo was loud normally, nevermind when his brain was completely melted by a hot, wet, blue tongue.
In between gasps that cause his chest to heave and full-body shudders that wrack him to the bone, stretching him out as his hips pulse, Ichigo managed to rasp out Shiro's name, begging with his tone.
Oh, but that feeling! The threat of the knife-edged talon tracing highly sensitized skin made Ichigo scrabble his hands across the sheets for something to hang onto, with a startled cry. ]

Edited 2011-04-05 20:02 (UTC)

[If Shiro minds the hair pulling, he doesn't say anything about it. Pain doesn't really matter at the moment, he's quite focused on the task at hand.

Oh, calling his name~ He digs it and it makes him more cocky (ha ha), pressing harder with his nails under slicing open that skin becomes a real threat. But, thankfully, he removes his claws as he puts his mouth around the head of Ichigo's penis, working his tongue in circles around the tip while grasping the base tightly with a rhythmic squeezing, the very edge of this thumb claw running along the underside. He opens and closes his mouth a little, then begins pumping with it, running his fangs from head to just above the base and back again, slowly for now, with eyes half-lidded, bangs slicked to his head with sweat and cheeks flushes azure. He even does a little something extra, sliding his claws of his other hand gently down from Ichigo's chest around and to his ass, groping one of the firm cheeks in tandem with his other hand's squeezing]

Oh f-fuck - hn - ah, ah!

[ Bites his lower lip, panting heavily. His body is forging on ahead without him, wracked with shudders, ignorant of stamina. Throbbing, and tight, Ichigo accidentally slices his lip with a terse canine, eyes dampening against the physical onslaught. Stubborn boy.
It felt better than good, wonderful, chest heaving in sync with a pulsing pelvis, his cries growing louder until a hitched gasp shuddered through him - but he didn't come; a peak of pleasure he was able to return from, dripping copious precum into Shiro's heated mouth.

A shaky hand reaches down to weave back and forth through white locks, then smoothing down a pale face to feel where Ichigo disappeared beyond lips. He threw back his head on the sheets, overwhelmed with sensation ]

[it seemed like in place of Shiro's growling and hissing and other animalistic calling, Ichigo was just babbling mindlessly. Seemed like neither of them could keep their mouths shut.

Come on, I know you want to. Shiro letss off for a moment to swallow the precum, only gagging a little at the weirdish, but not unpleasant taste.

Placing his mouth back down, Shiro increases his speed and intensity, grabbing ass and scrotum and using his far-too-long tongue to wrap around and massage head and shaft at increasingly faster rates, claws tickling at any sensitive skin that wasn't in his mouth]

[ Tightening his grip so hard in the sheet, Ichigo tears it a little. Panting hard, there's little Ichigo can do except arch into that mouth, twisting against the unbearable tension in his gut as it travels lower, his hips bucking erratically as he tries to warn Shiro of what's ... coming. ]

I - I, fuck! I'm...gonna -!

[ A ragged moan tears out of his throat, and Ichigo quivers like a taut bowstring before sagging heavily into the mattress, dragging down air as he wipes sweaty ginger strands out of his eyes. His body, a natural redhead, is flushed and pink over perspiring musculature, blushing him from head to toe and radiating heat.
Sorry, but he needs practice like whoa. ]

[Damn, these were nice sheets, too. Oh well.

Not so easy, is it? Pretty difficult to get the words out before you realize what's coming. Oh that would be a wonderful joke later.

And Christ, what a load it was. This boy never emptied out, did he? It's a good thing that one of the few differences between Ichigo and Shiro was Shiro's much larger and efficient mouth. Otherwise he might have choked to death right there. Instead, he manages to swallow most of it, taking a few spurts to the face and chest and hissing in response, quickly wiping it off on the sheets. No facials today, please.

Once he's mostly clean, he crawls up, body to hot, sweaty body with Ichigo and kisses him on the neck and chin and cheeks, and then mouth, complete will still messed tongue]

[ Wrapping his arms around Shiro's waist, once the hollow was aligned with him, Ichigo secured Shiro with legs sill curled behind thighs, hands pawing at a bare back, and likewise buried his face in the curve of Shiro's neck, nuzzling gratefully. His nose brushed a temple, sifting through soft hair, and he closed his eyes as Shiro dipped in for a kiss, taking his time to say a wordless Thank You.
A blue tongue has the mingled taste of his hollow, and himself mixed with the wet heat, making Ichigo let out a hum of quiet appreciation.
Pressed from shoulder to hip against the sweaty, hot skin above, Ichigo is content for the moment. His fingers thread softly into white hair, the other hand stroking over equally white shoulders, and the small of Shiro's neck.
Oh fuck that felt good. Definitely gonna have to try that out again sometime.

Like, maybe next week. When Ichigo could feel his legs again, and was more than just a melted puddle, ready to be poured into a cup. ]

Mmnph...C'mere...

[ He's even pawing Shiro closer, to prolong the warmth, and intimacy of the moment. Or, just maybe, to be able to wrap arms, and legs around the hollow, and delve his tongue past white lips - it's oddly much more of a turn-on to taste himself on that blue tongue than he would have thought. ]

[Shiro huffs and curls his arms around behind Ichigo's head so he can lace his taloned fingers into that ruff of sweaty orange hair, sharp nails tracing light lines on his scalp. It feels good, pressed together like this. Two identical bodies, identically worn out and pleasured.

Hah. Next week indeed. Too much of this and the Hollow might get a small addiction]

Mrrf, 'm right here...

[soft, sweet kissing doesn't last too long, and Shiro nips on Ichigo's lip, drawing blood and sucking on it, the irony metallic flavor so much different than the flavors of the the two of them already in Shiro's mouth. He'd heal the guy up later; for now, this was his, and he was going to do what he wanted to it]

[ Touching Shiro's face with his fingertips, he gently smoothed sweat-damp hair out of dark eyes, threading a hand through to hold Shiro prisoner, kisses hardening as he teased the hollow with soft, fluttering touches one moment and hungry nibbling the next. Too tired, and still swimming in the sea of release, Ichigo didn't bother to stifle a moan at having another cut on his lip. ]

Just...just stay here. Righ'here.

[ Covered in scratches - some shallow, some still leaving thin lines of blood on the sheets - Ichigo was definitely sore, but at present he felt too drained to get up, and go clean himself up. So, he just let the hollow suck on his cut lip, and anywhere else Shiro fancied.

As embarrassing as the whole situation would eventually become, once they spoke of it in hindsight, he didn't care to stifle the needy little sighs, and exclamations when his back became irritated by cotton. ]

[Shiro smiles contentedly, eyes half closed and sleepy again. Not that the Hollow is trying to go anywhere, he's perfectly happy where he is. Shiro hums as he sucks on the lip until it stops bleeding. He wraps his arms around Ichigo, digging his claws in again and breaking off the kiss, snuggling into the crook of Ichigo's neck]

M'not movin', aibou.

[the nuzzling turns into more kissing, and blood-drawing lovebites around Ichigo's collarbone and neck, sucking out metallic blood and precious reiatsu.

Embarrassing, maybe. But here in these quiet, private moments, it was right, and nothing to be shy about]

[ A gradual, languid stretch eventually makes Ichigo's spine arch up against the weight over him; serpentine and demanding as he presses their bodies together, touching everywhere at once. Each successive bite, or scratch gets little noises, or Ichigo's warm breath shivering out of him to fan across the hollow's bare skin. This hollow, this person who could turn him inside-out. Who knew his worst fears and failures and still stick around. No one else knew him like Shiro.

It's not the pain that arouses him - Ichigo's never been one for that sort of thing - but the way the bites connect them. There's something primal about it, but more than anything it makes him feel...wanted. Even needed. And that's all Ichigo has ever wanted, really. To be useful. Even if it is his own hollow, the sharpness of teeth being soothed away by wet, warm licking is so good. ]

Gotta stop tha - Nnh...that.

[ Despite his words, Ichigo wasn't acting like he wanted to stop at all. He knew he should, and that he was going to have a lof of strange marks to explain to his friends, now. Nnngh, they just felt so good going on!
He just can't help it. Turning into the nuzzling a bit, Ichigo closes his lips over the soft skin just under the hinge of the hollow's jaw, neck right on a tendon. Sucking gradually, he hums a pleased little sound when the bone-white skin actually shows a bluish-purple bruise. His tongue flicks against the wounded flesh, hot and laving, and he rakes his nails across the small of a back. But the marks on Shiro fade so quickly, and soon Ichigo can do little more than lay back against the sheets, and let the hollow nibble, and lick at the growing collection of bruises, and bites.

...Yeah, sleep is sounding better, and better. ]

[And by the same token, no one knew Shiro like Ichigo. But Ichigo had a head-start. Until recently, no one else knew the Hollow at all; not as anything but a homicidal, fight crazed monster, anyway. But those were merely the circumstances of his "use". He appeared that way when Ichigo was at his lowest, when he needed a boost and a way to sway a fight into his favor. Nothing put a fire under your ass like the fear of being controlled. But in his quiet moments, the Hollow was much different. Much more like his counterpart.

But the Hollow doesn't stop, because the blood is just too delicious. But he ensures Ichigo is not in much pain; his fangs are sharp and leave shallow, smooth cuts, and his tongue eases them into mending back together.]

Hrm... make me. If you really want~

[After all, Shiro could simply turn the flow of the reiatsu from Ichigo to himself, and the Hollow reiatsu would easily find the wounds and knit them together. But Shiro knew that feeling was unpleasant, akin to the chilly, sick feeling of fear. And a few scratches and lovebites weren't worth disrupting the feelings of this moment; the contentedness and feeling of... well, safety. It felt like neither of them could really be hurt at this moment.

Shiro eventually gets bored of the nibbling and the sucking, and instead drops in for another, sleepy kiss, talons laced into Ichigo's sweaty hair and pressing their faces together. But consciousness is slipping quickly, and with it, Shiro's position completely on top of Ichigo. He slides to one side, but between his grip on Ichigo's head and Ichigo's legs wrapped around Shiro, no real body-on-body contact is lost; it's just a bit more comfortable for the both of them]

[ Have a fist thump half-heartedly against your shoulder, Shiro. Stupid hollow.
When he wakes up, Ichigo will likely be embarrassed, conflicted, and definitely confused. He'd just sucked another guy's dick, and liked it. How's that for a sexuality crisis? But right now, he's letting those thoughts stay on the outskirts of his mind. He could worry about them later.

The bed is a disaster. Blood, and sweat, and cum stain sheets that are now sporting a few smaller tears where Ichigo's fists had been bunched in them. But, keeping legs tangled with Shiro's, and arms looped lazily around a waist, Ichigo snuffles close. One arm flops out of the tangle briefly to grope for the covers, then pull them up, over both himself, and Shiro. Nestled together like twins, Ichigo sighs. At peace. And very soon, dozing off. ]

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