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

[savior_n_black]

[ 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. ]

Comments

[holeheart]

[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]

[savior_n_black]

[ 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. ]