(He preens for him, raising his face, turning his neck, giving Aki free and total access to his body. It would be so easy to indulge, to just take and bask in it all. Sighing and humming with each touch, he still hasn't come down from his high.
He's still riding it when he rolls in his hold so he can be on top of him. Swaying as he rises, straddling him and looking down to see all of him now that he has him. Like this, Aki can also see him. Everything. The entirety of his frame, lean muscle, the graceful curve of his waist, the warm flush of his cheeks, and eyes still bright and constricted. A version of Tsurumaru Kuninaga that only wants to show off, who only wants to be the best, who only wants to be loved.
He teases,)
Poor Aki.
(He places the palm of his hand on Aki's center, hands splayed and tracing muscle, exploring every line, slowly. He's deliberate as he moves up to his chest, around and then across his nipple, to his collar... and all the while he leans in closer and closer until he's flat on top of him and his face is buried in the crook of his neck and shoulder, nuzzling against him.)
My poor, wonderful Aki.
(And he begins to pepper him with dizzied kisses. He'd said it. Aki is his. His, his, his, he thinks hazily. His kisses slow as he begins to settle, as the rush runs its course,)
I'm sorry... (Pressing his mouth against his neck, murmuring, ) ... For making you wait...
(And suddenly, there's teeth, nipping lightly at first,)
Thank you. (For waiting. For being so good. For taking such care of him. For putting up with him.) Thank you.
(Harder. Because he knows how he feels about him. Because he knows what cigarettes he likes. Because he knows what spot he likes. Because he knows he'll like it.
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He's still riding it when he rolls in his hold so he can be on top of him. Swaying as he rises, straddling him and looking down to see all of him now that he has him. Like this, Aki can also see him. Everything. The entirety of his frame, lean muscle, the graceful curve of his waist, the warm flush of his cheeks, and eyes still bright and constricted. A version of Tsurumaru Kuninaga that only wants to show off, who only wants to be the best, who only wants to be loved.
He teases,)
Poor Aki.
(He places the palm of his hand on Aki's center, hands splayed and tracing muscle, exploring every line, slowly. He's deliberate as he moves up to his chest, around and then across his nipple, to his collar... and all the while he leans in closer and closer until he's flat on top of him and his face is buried in the crook of his neck and shoulder, nuzzling against him.)
My poor, wonderful Aki.
(And he begins to pepper him with dizzied kisses. He'd said it. Aki is his. His, his, his, he thinks hazily. His kisses slow as he begins to settle, as the rush runs its course,)
I'm sorry... (Pressing his mouth against his neck, murmuring, ) ... For making you wait...
(And suddenly, there's teeth, nipping lightly at first,)
Thank you. (For waiting. For being so good. For taking such care of him. For putting up with him.) Thank you.
(Harder. Because he knows how he feels about him. Because he knows what cigarettes he likes. Because he knows what spot he likes. Because he knows he'll like it.
And he lets his teeth sink into skin.)