thesettingsun | Recolle IC Inbox

[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.

[Oh, yeah. That was the other thing. Shuji wants his pants off, which--the thought of it makes Mista short-circuit a little bit, although not in a bad way. And the other part of the other thing was that this isn't enough, not quite. He wants to see all of Shuji, and it's probably a safe bet that Shuji's feeling the same way.]

[So. Time to do something really, really difficult. He kisses Shuji again, then once more on the corner of his mouth, and then leans in until their foreheads touch. He feels wrecked already and wonders if he looks it. Shuji does. It's a good look.]

I'm gonna move you and get up for a sec. But I'll be right back. Five seconds or less. Trust me?

Got it. Five seconds or less.

[He doesn't think that Mista would leave him half-naked on his - their bed. He's more considering whether he can get his shirt and underwear and pants off completely in five seconds. The answer is probably no, he can't, but he'll try his hardest.]

Okay.

[Good. Great. Okay. They both know what's going to happen. Now Mista just has to do it. And it is, in fact, the hardest thing he's ever done in his life, shifting his weight to deposit Shuji onto the bed and getting his feet on solid ground again. He wobbles a little, leaning one hand on that mattress. God, how did he ever walk?]

[In the second and a half it takes to get his balance, he stares at Shuji, flushed and dissheveled on the bed. He wonders if he's dreaming. Then, with more grace than he really has any right to, he shucks his shirt off, undoes his belt, and steps out of his pants. Doesn't trip while undoing his socks. Suave as hell. The main issue is his boxers, which--should he? He probably should. Otherwise they'll have to maneuver again later. But maybe it's presumptuous or weird, or maybe--]

[Shut the fuck up, he tells himself sternly and just does it. There. Done. It was six seconds because he waffled, but it's done. Now, shy all over again, he rests his weight on the bed and then crawls up close to Shuji, not quite meeting his eyes.]

[Shuji's focused on himself for the moment. Pants all the way off, socks coming along with them - thank god he doesn't wear shoes in the house, taking off shoes is not sexy ever. Shirt gets unbuttoned as much as it needs to be before he can just pull it off over his head.

Underwear... gets shoved down along with his pants before he can freak out too much about it, and the whole pile of clothes gets thrown over the side of the bed.

Shuji looks to Mista, suddenly naked Mista, and just - freezes, for a second, because holy shit, Mista is the most gorgeous man he's seen in his life and they're in bed together and they're both hard and they're going to have sex.

Should he kiss him? Should he touch him, and if he should touch him should he go for the goods or work up to it or- God, he doesn't know. Do something, he tells himself, don't just stare.

With a trembling hand, he reaches out and - holds Mista's hand again.]

[If it helps at all, Mista's staring too. A lot. This is another instance of fantasy paling in comparison to reality. Shuji is slim and gorgeous, all legs. There are marks on his throat in the shape of Mista's mouth, but the rest of his skin is smooth and begging to be marked up. Mista wants to kiss and bite him all over.]

[And he's so hard. It looks like it hurts. That's because of Mista, that's for Mista, and all of a sudden his mouth is watering because--yeah, okay. Yeah. He's pretty sure he's never been this turned on in his life, which sure does confirm some shit.]

[Shuji's fingers slide between his. He's shaking. Mista looks up and meets his eyes and bites his lip. Shuji looks about as nervous as he feels.]

. . . Hey, you.

[His voice is rough and breathless. He squeezes Shuji's hand and tentatively reaches out to hook one leg around Shuji's. Not too much, too close, or too fast. Just . . . he wants to be a little closer, to have a little more contact.]

I'm really fucking nervous. So can I kiss you? That usually helps.

[Shuji hopes that Shuji kissing him will work just as well as Mista kissing him, because he's doing that. To quell his own nerves, and Mista's, and also just because he wants to touch him more. He can't do anything approaching restrained - it's wet and needy and not half as desperate as Shuji feels right now.

He settles his hands on Mista's hips. It's hard to let go of Mista's hand, but getting closer to actually Doing A Sex Thing is worth it.]

[It does help, in that Mista forgets he was nervous immediately. Shuji's hot where his hands have found purchase on Mista's lips, and his kiss is--fuck. Mista groans into it, parting his lips against Shuji's to kiss him hard, all need and very little technique.]

[Where from here is the question, though. He runs his hands up and down Shuji's sides again, then up and down and further, over his hips and down his thighs and back up to his hips. It's not really conscious after that, the way his fingers slide down, thumbs pressing into the hollows of Shuji's hipbones, the way his knuckles trail the inside of Shuji's thighs.]

Can I--

[Fuck. He knows what he wants, so why is he choking like this? Huffing out a frustrated breath, he kisses Shuji again, whining in the back of his throat.]

[He knows what he wants, and Shuji knows what he wants, and Mista's touch to his thighs makes Shuji shiver and every kiss makes him groan.

Fuck it. Shuji wraps his hand around the tip of Mista's cock. It's hard to avoid looking at it, and he really, really wants to touch it and find out what noises Mista makes when he does.]

[Add that to the list of things Mista loves about Shuji: sometimes, when it's really important to him, he manages to ignore the potential consequences and just go for what he wants. In this case what he wants is to get his hands on Mista properly, and the consequences are--]

[Well, there aren't any. And for the record, Mista makes a lot of noises in response to this particular touch. First a shuddering breath as he registers the touch, because Shuji's hand feels so much hotter than it has any right to be; his eyes fly wide open and he claps one hand over his mouth, but it's not enough to hold back the needy whimper as he curls into the touch, as close to Shuji on the bed as he can possibly get. He doesn't know what to do with himself. He doesn't know how to move or think or even breathe.]

Fuck, Shuji. Fuck, [he manages through his fingers, but that appears to be it.]

[Mista is reactive. Shuji had realized that from how Mista had responded to everything else, but this is a lot of response all from one tiny thing.

He couldn't be happier.]

Mista... [It's full of awe, the kind of exhalation you make at seeing a beautiful force of nature or a miracle. Mista is a miracle.

Shuji licks the inside of his other hand to make it wetter before bringing it to join the first, and stroking slowly. This isn't so different from what he's done to himself, and what he's imagined Mista doing to him.]

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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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