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[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.]

[He doesn't know what to do with the way Shuji's looking at him. It's good, but it's a lot, too. People don't look at him like that usually. Like he's the beginning and end of everything. He has to close his eyes against that look for a moment or he'll literally lose his mind, and then he won't be able to suck Shuji off like he's abruptly, desperately obsessed with doing.]

[Not that he can say it. Both of Shuji's hands are on him, slow and steady. It makes him twitch, head to toe, his breath coming quick as he stares at--himself. And Shuji's hands moving over him, so sure.]

[He manages to glance up at Shuji's face just for a moment, and that look is still there, that awe. His hips twitch forward, and he turns his head to hide his face in the pillows for a second. Shuji's too beautiful to look at. He'll go fucking blind.]

[Not being touched as much makes it a little easier for Shuji to find words, though they're still not half as coherent as if Mista weren't naked in front of him, if his hips weren't jerking because of Shuji's touch, if he weren't breathing harder because of pleasure Shuji's giving him.]

Don't - I want to see your face. Please?

[If Mista can't show his face, that's okay, and Shuji will keep stroking him like this. But Shuji wants to see him. All of him.]

[It's dangerous. He thinks if he looks at Shuji too long he'll come just like that. He can't withstand that look, how much pleasure Shuji takes in making him feel good.]

[But Shuji says please. Mista groans into the pillow, because he can't resist that, either. Shuji could ask him for anything right now, and if he said please at the end, Mista'd do it gladly.]

[It takes way too long to turn his head and open his eyes, but he does it. He's red to the tips of his ears, his eyes lidded and his pupils blown. Looking at Shuji makes him shake all over, just for a second; then he finds words, raspy as they are.]

You're the sexiest thing I've ever fucking seen-- [Out all in one breath, and then he's reaching up to grab Shuji by the back of the neck and draw him down for a quick, rough kiss. It has to be quick if he's going to remember to breathe, and he comes out of it gasping, but he doesn't let go. Shuji wanted to see him, so here he is close up.]

Edited 2017-09-22 05:38 (UTC)

[~~But would he get rid of his crop tops if Shuji asked?~~

There Mista is, looking so overwhelmed because of what Shuji is doing to him. Shuji's feeling a little overwhelmed himself, wrecked from the way Mista shivers and gasps, from having Mista so close to him.]

You're so gorgeous, I didn't know anyone could be this hot- [Shuji kisses Mista again, stroking him a little faster as he does so. He wants to make him groan even more, louder and louder until he loses what control he has left.]

[~~IT IS A DISTINCT POSSIBILITY~~]

[He doesn't understand what Shuji's talking about. There's no way he even compares to Shuji right now, Shuji who's flushed and staring with a perfect mouth and the best kisses, Shuji who is being so, so good to him. Shuji speeds up at the same time as he kisses Mista, which means the groan that rolls out of Mista's mouth does so right into that kiss; it's helpless and needy and loud, and Mista either doesn't realize how loud he's being or he just doesn't care.]

[It's probably the second one.]

So good, [he mumbles,] don't stop, babe, please, [and as his hips settle into a sort-of-steady, mostly-frantic rhythm, he thinks fuck it and finally allows himself to grab for as much of Shuji's ass as he can reach. His fingers dig in, probably a little too hard, and he shudders. It's just--good. It's so good.]

[Who cares if he's being loud? Who can even think about the neighbors? Nothing matters right now except that Mista is moaning because of him and pistoning his hips and -

-and he sure did grab Shuji's ass, and Shuji can't help but squeak a little at that, not from embarrassment so much as just surprise. But he's not stopping. He would never even consider stopping, not when Mista is like this. He only wants to do more, not less.]

Mista... Mista, you're perfect...

[Another time, he'll bat Shuji's hands away and pull him down so they can just grind against each other, messy and slick, until they both come. Not now, though. He can't think about anything other than this exact moment, how soft and reverent Shuji's voice is, how good he feels under Mista's hands. Nothing else matters.]

[Except--okay, one thing matters. He doesn't know why it matters, it just does. Shuji's words are so sweet that Mista shudders again; he wants to live up to them, he wants to be as good as Shuji's being to him. He probably will be embarrassed about this later, but in the moment, as heat sweeps over him and he starts to lose his rhythm, it just feels right.]

Shu--is it okay-- [No, too many words. Try again.] Can I--?

[His fingers flex against Shuji in frustration. Can I come, that's what he wants to know, he wants Shuji to let him--but words are just. Impossible.]

[Another time they'll do that. They'll have so many times. This is just the first one, and it's perfect as it is.

Even though words are hard for both of them and none of that actually gets to the point, somehow Shuji picks up on what Mista means without being told.

You knew what I was thinking before I said it. You're, like, impossibly good at taking care of me.

-Or maybe that's just how they've always been.]

I want you to. I want to see you come.

[He wants that more than he wants to breathe.]

[He doesn't know why he wasn't expecting such enthusiastic agreement. That's Shuji all over. When he wants something, he wants it a lot. But it's still a shock, even here and now with Shuji's hands pushing him over the edge, how much Shuji wants him.]

[His fingers twitch; he wants to bring his hand up to cover his mouth, but he doesn't. He wants to hide his face again, but he doesn't, because Shuji wants to see him. Shuddering with relief, he shifts, one hand gripping tight to Shuji's hip and one at the back of his neck again. He makes himself keep eye contact, because that's what Shuji wants, and he wants to give Shuji everything.]

[It doesn't take long, either. His hips lift off the bed and shudder as his lips part, letting out a helpless groan, and a few seconds later his whole body shakes and that's it. He's coming because of Shuji's hands on him and Shuji's permission. Because of Shuji. It's perfect.]

[Everything that Shuji wants, he wants a lot, but he's never wanted anything as much as he wants Mista.

Mista is more beautiful than any work of art, and Shuji swears he stops breathing during the entirety of his climax. He doesn't take his eyes off him once - Mista let him watch, and Shuji won't ignore that gift.

He strokes him through it, then pulls his hands away. There's come on them. He should probably do something about that at some point. Not now, because his hands and any messes on them are not as important as Mista.]

I love you so much.

[He could do just this a hundred times and never get tired of it.]

[The way Mista's looking at Shuji right now is nothing short of worshipful. As he goes limp against the sheets and his breathing starts to slow, he looks up at Shuji like he's seeing the sun come up for the first time. He can't believe this is really--that Shuji's real and here with him.]

Love you, [he mumbles, pulling Shuji back in clumsily for a kiss. It's slow and sweet, all fondness and gratitude. His toes and fingers are still curling with aftershocks, which makes the kiss a little shivery, but that doesn't mean he means it any less.]

[And when the kiss is done . . . Mista just looks at Shuji for a moment or two, up and down. Shuji's still hard. There's come on his hands, too. Mista gives them a thoughtful look. His brain's still pretty hazy, but it's not like it takes a lot of thought to connect the dots.]

[It takes approximately none of his strength to take Shuji by the wrist and pull his hand forward. It's automatic after that to lick a wide stripe up his palm, then up his first finger, before taking it into his mouth for, you know. The most thorough job he can do. It's not a bad taste or a particularly good one, it's just odd, but he's not doing this for the taste anyway. He's doing it to make a point.]

[Sorry, Shuji can't come to the thread right now, because he's dead.

Well, no, he's not dead, but he's sincerely expecting to pass out when Mista starts cleaning him up. Can you pass out from sheer arousal, or just from all your blood pooling in your face and your dick and nowhere else? Probably. He tries not to tremble and fails.]

Mista, holy shit...

[He sounds wrecked. He is wrecked. How was he ever so lucky to end up with the most gorgeous and wonderful man in the world?]

[Okay, he can't quite keep himself from grinning, wolfish and mischievous. What a reaction. Better keep doing exactly what he's doing.]

[He finishes cleaning Shuji's hand, one finger at a time, before moving on to the other one without a moment's hesitation. It feels good, honestly. He likes using his mouth for pretty much anything, he likes the way Shuji's fingers feel in his mouth, he likes that he can make Shuji shake just by doing this . . . which means that by the time he's almost done he's slowed down a bit, really savoring the process.]

[When he finishes, he sighs, kisses the center of Shuji's palm, and smiles at him. Whatever nerves he had about asking are long gone now. He's too relaxed and happy to be worried anymore.]

I want you in my mouth real bad, Shu.

[In normal situations, Shuji likes Mista smiling and him. Loves it, nothing can make him happier. But in normal situations Mista hasn't just cleaned his come off Shuji's hand with his tongue, and in normal situations Mista definitely doesn't say anything remotely like that.

Shuji's brain fizzles out for a second. He doesn't have a response to that - possibly because he's never expected those words to leave Mista's mouth - and when he does manage to find a single word, he can only barely croak it out.]

Please.

[He'll probably die of pleasure sometime during the process but it'll be so, so worth it.]

[The second Shuji agrees, Mista just--he smiles so wide, relieved and delighted and full of anticipation. He presses another kiss to Shuji's wrist and nods, then hooks one leg around Shuji's and flips them over, pinning Shuji's wrist to the bed before lacing their fingers together and kissing him at the corner of his mouth.]

Hey. I've never done this before, so . . . tell me if it's no good, or if it is, or--just tell me what you want, okay? I don't mind.

[He doesn't really mind anything Shuji does ever. He genuinely would do anything Shuji asked him to if it'd make Shuji happy.]

[Suddenly, Shuji's looking up at Mista instead of across at him. Mista's weight on him is solid and real and somehow makes Shuji more sure that this is actually happening.]

I promise I'll tell you. And if I can't get my brain to make words I'll just - grunt or something. Hand gestures. Morse code.

[He's babbling nervously, he knows, but he can't help it.]

God, you're so cute.

[He kisses Shuji again, fiercely affectionate, and--doesn't do what he wants to do, which is make his way down Shuji's body slowly, kissing everywhere and lingering in the places that Shuji likes best. He wants very much to do that, but there'll be time for that later, and right now he's pretty sure that if he takes too much time Shuji will legitimately die.]

[He does indulge a little, though. There's so much of Shuji that he hasn't explored yet. He can't keep himself from pressing a feather-light kiss under Shuji's ribs, then one beside his belly button; he kisses against the hollow of Shuji's hipbone and then, closing his eyes, does it again. This is a good spot. He sighs and sucks a bruise there without even the slightest bit of warning, just because he wants to.]

[Maybe he's lingering a little now, but look, it could be worse. It's not his fault Shuji's so easy to mark up.]

[He's cute because he's too overwhelmed to make words that make sense? Probably.

Mista is amazing. Mista's touch is amazing, and Shuji shudders at every kiss pressed to his skin - ribs, belly button, hips. He's aware that it's going to bruise, and he has a sudden clear image of going to work tomorrow with no one but him having any idea that Mista has left his mark on him.

His toes curl. Shuji isn't sure if he could come before his dick is ever touched, but he doesn't want to risk it.]

Mista...

[Hurry up?]

[Oh. Fuck. That snaps him out of it, eyes opening wide to look up at Shuji, who looks just--destroyed. Mista has to hold his breath for a second and just stare.]

Sorry, [he manages after a moment,] sorry, I--

[And then he fumbles a little because explaining is kind of stupid, he's pretty sure, when Shuji needs him so bad. So he presses one last kiss to Shuji's hip and scoots down, pushing Shuji's thighs apart and getting settled on his elbows.]

[The fact of the matter is that, while he's never done this before, he's given head a lot. It's one of his favorite things to do ever, and he couldn't really articulate why other than that it feels intimate and hot in a way other stuff doesn't. So now that he's committed, he's not actually intimidated at all. Mostly he just wants Shuji's cock in his mouth.]

[Nonetheless, he takes a moment to just look. Shuji is gorgeous--every single part of him--and this is no exception. Mista's eyes go dark when he wraps his hand around Shuji's cock and gives him one slow stroke, getting his bearings. He wants to keep his eyes open, but it ends up being a little too much in the end; they fall shut as he presses a light kiss to the head before wrapping his lips around it. Finally.]

[When Mista is looking at him, his eyes are so dark and wanting that Shuji doesn't understand who he could be looking at with that expression. And when he closes his eyes - well.

Shuji shudders, letting out a groan at the first touch of Mista's lips. He can't decide which is hotter - Mista's mouth or the fact that he wanted to do this to Shuji. Both together, they have him twitching and trying desperately not to push up with his hips further into Mista's mouth. No one likes being choked suddenly.

This time it's Shuji covering his eyes with his hand. He absolutely can't look at Mista in between his legs. He'll go mad.]

[To even Mista's own surprise, he answers Shuji with a moan of his own, low in his throat and helplessly pleased. Shuji sounds incredible. This was the right choice, he thinks; he wants to make Shuji feel exactly that good. Maybe better.]

[He doesn't miss the restlessness, though. He should've thought of it before, but--he loops his arm under and around Shuji's thigh, holding him firmly in place. None of that. And maybe he should make Shuji look at him, stop until he does, but Shuji's been so patient already, and honestly Mista doesn't want to stop.]

[Instead, he presses his tongue against the underside of Shuji's cock and lets himself sink down on it. Not too far, as tempting as it is; he wants to get a feel for how far he can go without struggling. So he goes down a little bit at a time until he doesn't think he can anymore and just . . . feels it. He'll move in a second, but for now he lets himself enjoy the fullness and the pressure--and, almost as an afterthought, opens his eyes again to see Shuji's reaction.]

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