thesettingsun | Recolle IC Inbox

[Mista isn't subtle, no. Talking about staring at Shuji's butt does not qualify as 'subtle'. And even if Shuji doesn't know why yet, he knows that Mista wants him as much as Shuji wants Mista.

He didn't do anything worthy of this blessing in his life. Maybe later he should ask Mista to teach him prayers of thanks.]

I know, I know you do. [Shuji squeezes Mista's hand again.] I'd ask if you know that I want you but I'm even less subtle.

[It's tempting to tease Shuji, because no. Shuji is pretty much the opposite of subtle in every way. But if Shuji didn't tease him, then he won't tease, either.]

[Instead he just grins a little and lifts Shuji's hand to kiss his knuckles. It's a sweet, silly little gesture of fondness that he means from the bottom of his heart.]

Yeah. It took me a while, but I figured it out.

So . . . we're on the same page. My question to you is: what do you want right now?

[And that is teasing. Just a little.]

[It's teasing, but Mista's only human, and Shuji understands that it's hard not to tease your boyfriend when you're in bed talking about sex.

It still makes his face turn red as a beet as he struggles to find words, and finally gives up.]

You first.

Oh, come on.

[He's not actually sulky. Again, it's just cute. Shuji is so cute when he's shy, and as much as this is new territory for both of them . . . well. It's not like he's in any hurry regardless.]

[He looks at Shuji with half a smile for a moment or two before leaning in and kissing him. It's an in-between kiss; it's sweet, but it drags and lingers, full of promise. It's meant to be comforting, but also sort of not.]

[When he pulls away, his smile's a little hazier. Still there, though. He's happy.]

That feeling. That's what I want. I don't know what'll make you feel that way yet, but I wanna find out. I want to touch you as much as you'll let me. Beyond that I don't know, but--I can't really think of anything I don't want.

Edited 2017-09-21 00:40 (UTC)

[It's the kind of kiss that leaves Shuji's eyes hazy and his brain fogged over. He doesn't realize until a moment or two after Mista stops talking that he should probably answer in words, not just by staring.]

All of that sounds good to me too. That, and making you feel like that, and - I don't know. I don't know what you like but I want to try everything and find out what you like the best, and make you feel that way, and - talking is hard, Mista.

[Words are his thing and he still is having trouble matching words to his thoughts.]

[Oh, no. Poor Shuji. Mista grins and shakes his head, letting their linked hands fall between them on the bed again.]

'M sorry, babe. We can stop talking if you want. We did good, but--you want a kiss instead?

From you? Always.

[He can't picture himself turning down a kiss, but especially not now. They did great on the conversation thing, they can move on now.

Shuji's the first to lean in for that kiss.]

[Mista meets him halfway. Maybe a little more than halfway. He's tried to play cool about it, but he's just as eager to get past the talking part of things. He's a mess of nerves and anticipation and want, which he could hide up until now, but with this kiss--well, he just can't.]

[It's heated, is what it is, still restrained because he's trying to be good, but the way he presses close and slides his hand into Shuji's hair is too needy to really be that smooth. He squeezes Shuji's knee with his other hand, insistent on more points of contact.]

[It's easier to hide things in words than in actions. Shuji's been trying to control his want for basically the last month, being good, not uncomfortable, not weird.

Self-control isn't Shuji's strong suit, however. Particularly not when he's been given permission. Shuji's kiss is a great deal less restrained, and Shuji's hands find their way underneath Mista's shirt without him really directing them there.

Points of contact are better skin-to-skin. That's just a fact.]

[Shuji's hands are warm and very suddenly become the center of Mista's universe. He has to stop for a second as he startles and breathes in sharply, holds his breath and arches into the touch, because--it's good. It's shocking how good it is. He can feel the spread of Shuji's fingers splayed across his stomach, and it feels like he's been waiting for exactly this for weeks.]

[There's a long moment when he's just frozen, his lip caught between his teeth; he can't quite breathe because he's too busy feeling. And then he sighs happily and shifts on the bed, turning so he's on it properly instead of sitting with his legs hanging off, and moves in closer.]

Fuck, Shu. C'mere.

[Tipping Shuji's chin up, he leans in and kisses him, wanting to tease but honestly unable to. His lips part hungrily in invitation as his hands make his way under Shuji's shirt to get a solid grip on his hips.]

[It should be impossible for someone's hands, even Mista's hands, on his hips to feel that good. Impossible, or illegal, or both. A moan escapes Shuji's lips against Mista's, and he can't manage to feel embarrassed about it. If he were embarrassed, he probably wouldn't be meeting that invitation with his tongue over the lines of Mista's lips either.

He pushes Mista's shirt further up, so he can see the skin he's rubbing his hands over. He wants to know exactly what makes Mista sigh like that. He wants to learn everything that Mista likes: it's a more important subject than any class he's taken, and he'll put his all into studying.]

[That's Shuji that made that sound. Shuji made that sound because of him. He makes a sound, too, not quite a moan but a soft rumble of appreciation as he runs his hands up and down Shuji's sides. His skin is so warm and so soft and--]

[And it's almost impossible to think with Shuji touching him like that, and looking at him like that. He feels the urge to apologize--he's got more body hair than most American guys do and it's weird sometimes--but then Shuji's tracing his lips with his tongue and self-consciousness doesn't exist anymore. He moans, melting into the kiss and nipping playfully at Shuji's lips.]

[What's there to apologize for? Mista is gorgeous - more muscular than Shuji is or will ever be, warm under his hands, and if there's anything bad about the body hair it's that Shuji doesn't know if he should put his mouth where his hands are now because of it.

Shuji pushes Mista's shirt as high as it'll go without actually taking it off: that would require not kissing Mista for a second, which is obviously impossible. He's still mapping the planes of Mista's body. Does he like his chest being touched? Nipples? Shuji needs to know.]

[It's probably becoming very quickly obvious that Mista is both ridiculously sensitive and quite reactive. He likes almost everything, it's more a matter of what he likes best, and even on that count he'd have a hard time actually deciding. He likes what Shuji's doing now--maybe likes having his stomach touched a little more overall, but when Shuji's fingers brush over his nipples he lets out a genuinely embarrassing choked-off sound and presses forward into the touch, fingers digging in a little too hard where they've frozen halfway down Shuji's sides.]

[Except no, that's still not good enough. Shuji's been holding back, he can tell, and that makes it seem more okay to do what he wants to do: pull Shuji up into his lap, get his grip steady on Shuji's hips again, and lean up to mouth unsteadily at his throat. That weight, the unavoidable presence of Shuji on top of him, is the best thing in the world right now.]

[It's very okay. Shuji's legs wrap around Mista when he's pulled into his lap - that seems the only comfortable place, and if it makes it any easier for Mista to tell how excited Shuji is, that's fine. Mista should know how good he makes Shuji feel.

Another moan leaves Shuji's lips at the kiss to his neck, and he rubs at Mista's chest more firmly in retaliation, or reciprocation, or both.]

Fuck.

[It's hard to say what that's even in response to. Probably everything. Shuji's legs are tight around his waist, and his fingers are doing crazy good things that Mista can't even track. Then there's the fact that he can feel how worked up Shuji is, and he's just--it's so good it's overwhelming. He shudders and groans, scraping his teeth against Shuji's jaw as he realizes Shuji can feel him too, probably. They're so close, it'd be kind of impossible for him not to.]

You, uh--you work tomorrow, sweetheart? [Be responsible. Be a good boyfriend. Don't get so carried away you forget that other people will be able to see if you bite down too hard. God, Shuji smells good.]

I was thinking of wearing a turtleneck...

[Shuji is not responsible, but he is a good boyfriend, or at least an enabling one. The idea of walking around with Mista's marks on him that no one but he knows are there sounds really, really good.]

[Oh. Yeah, okay, that sounds like a solution. Shuji can probably feel Mista's wicked grin against his skin.]

I think you're gonna have to.

[There's still only so far up he can go, but that's fine. He kisses down Shuji's throat, a little more slowly than he needs to, because he's not always nice. When he finds his spot, he makes sure to let Shuji know, paying it special attention with feather-light kisses and the occasional flick of his tongue. It's only when he's got Shuji properly squirming that he bears down and bites a dark bruise onto Shuji's skin.]

[Mista has the best way of being not nice to him possible. Shuji does squirm some, only barely able to keep in a whimper at the initial attention, and when he bites down-]

Fuck.

[There's no other response that's appropriate. Shuji doesn't think of himself as a masochist, but apparently he should reconsider that assessment.

Shuji's hands fall from Mista's chest and hover around Mista's waistband. He wants to ask first before he does anything, but words aren't coming to him.]

[God. Yeah, okay, that's good. He wants to do that again. He nuzzles against the mark he's made, kissing it before moving on to another spot and nipping at the skin there. But before he can do much, he feels Shuji's hands on him again and twitches a little. That's good, too, he likes where this is going, but also--]

[Also he likes what Shuji does when he's a little mean. A conundrum.]

Something you want?

[Which would be the point when he should let Shuji respond, but he bites down again, slower this time and savoring. He can't quite help shifting his hips up a little, though. It feels too good to resist.]

[Mista is absolutely the worst. He knows that it's impossible to talk when Mista's biting him like that, and Shuji knows he knows, and it feels good but he at least wants to make sure that Mista gets his pants off before Shuji embarrasses himself.

'Let me get your pants off' is what Shuji intends to say, except the first part gets replaced by a gasp when Mista bites again, so it comes out:]

-getyourpantsoff.

[Which at least makes the message clear.]

[Yeah, that's pretty clear, all right. Mista's heart thumps in his ears, incredibly loud; he breathes out sharply against Shuji's throat, and again he can't help squirming. Yes, he wants that, but all of a sudden he's tongue-tied and shy. He kisses that second blooming mark, trying to buy himself a second to just--remember how to breathe.]

[It doesn't honestly work that well. Eventually, though, he's able to muster up enough wherewithal to murmur a response.]

You too? [And then there's a pause, and he tugs on Shuji's hips, painfully needy.] Please.

[Breathing is complicated, talking nearly impossible. Shuji's stomach is filled with nervousness and excitement, and he can't tell which is which.

Shuji lifts his hips enough to take his belt off, and then pulls his pants down as far as he can get without actually getting off of Mista, which ends up being about halfway.

He's a black boxers kind of guy, and almost painfully hard now.]

[The truth of the matter is that Mista's spent a lot--a lot--of time thinking about what Shuji would look like really worked up. It really has made him a little crazy these past few weeks and before that, too, before they were even officially anything, wondering what Shuji'd sound like and look like, how he'd feel.]

[But imagination isn't worth fuck all in comparison to the real thing. Mista's hypnotized watching the movements of Shuji's fingers, then his hips; he catches his lip between his teeth to try and steady his breathing, but it's no good, not when he sees how hard Shuji is just from this. Groaning, he leans forward to drag Shuji into a messy, uncoordinated kiss, hands coming to rest on his thighs for a long, painful moment before he lets himself squeeze a little.]

Love you, [he manages, breathless and barely coherent.] Hey, Shuji, I love you so fucking much, you know that? You look so damn good.

[And there was something else, but he's lost it. He kisses Shuji again, hoping it'll come back. He thinks it was important. Maybe?]

[The sincere, honest truth: Shuji thinks of himself as plain-looking. It's one of the main reasons he ever got into fashion - because there's only so much he can do about his natural looks. He dyes his hair and puts it into a braid, he buys clothes and studies exactly what's trendy at the time, but if you took that all away, he thinks he'd be nothing special.

But Mista thinks he looks good. He thinks that more the more Shuji takes off. It makes Shuji's mouth feel dry even with the wet kisses.]

I love you too. [In between kisses, he manages that much.] I want to see you too.

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at some point I should probably put up a nsfw warning on this thread, here seems like a good place

so mote it be

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