|Ian Yorkland (gunmanoflove) wrote,|
@ 2013-11-24 02:02:00
|Entry tags:||black/green, don't need a reason to ship it, green/black, ian is a bad influence, porn, pwp, you can bet souji's not 'green' now|
i just wanted to write porn dammit
Ian's underneath him, skin flushed and shining with sweat. His breath comes in short pants, and beneath Souji's hand his dick is impossibly hard.
Souji, for his part, is doing quite a good job of maintaining his cool composure. Having managed to pin Ian quickly this time, his shirt was only half-unbuttoned and his hair only slightly tousled. The satisfaction of winning their little tussle hadn't yet left him, and the pleased quirk of his lips had done astonishing – and obvious things to Ian's libido.
“Boy.” Ian's voice is harsh and deep, tinged with frustration. Souji tries not to let his smirk widen, he really does, but it's so rare that he gets to have Ian like this. He'd discovered quite early into their relationship that Ian was something of an overly considerate lover; the times he'd left Souji breathless and spent without even a chance to touch him were innumerable, and it had taken more than a few tries before Souji had been able to have the pleasure of Ian moaning against his skin. Even now there were times where Souji would have to manhandle him into letting loose – the only problem with that being that he had to be quick. Thankfully, his school tie made a rather convenient restraint when he was able to keep Ian distracted for long enough to actually use it.
He moves his hand slowly and without the pressure he knows Ian likes, enjoying the frustrated growl more than he probably should. With a teasingly slow place he leans down, allowing his breath to ghost over the sensitive flesh in his hand. Ian's annoyance promptly cuts off into a sharp inhalation as Souji wraps his lips gently around the head, flicking his tongue out to catch the salty pre-cum that had gathered. Ian's hips buck up immediately, and Souji's smirk is ridiculously smug as he pulls away.
The look on Ian's face is priceless. Souji's sure he's never been glared at so fiercely before, even if the effect is somewhat ruined by Ian's parted lips and and deep breaths and, oh, his body still trying to desperately arch into Souji's hand.
Souji meets Ian's eyes and slowly, deliberately, runs his tongue over his lips before grasping the bottom one between his teeth; his fist tightens briefly, fingers pressing against the pulsing vein that runs along the underside of Ian's cock, and strokes down firmly. The same actions he usually makes before delivering a – according to Ian – spectacular blowjob.
Ian's glare ceases only due to thumping his head back against the pillow with a breathless groan. His hips rock, desperately seeking attention, and finally Souji obliges. It's a smooth movement that brings him down again to drag his teeth along the sensitive skin at Ian's hips, eliciting a long moan – and when he finally bites at the skin, that moan cuts off into a gasping whimper and Ian's back arches so far Souji's almost surprised to not hear a crack.
“Souji,” Ian's voice is breathless and pleading, a stark contrast to mere moments ago. Souji chances a glance at Ian's wrists, bound to the headboard by his own green tie, and isn't surprised in the least to see that Ian's dexterous fingers making slow progress at undoing the first knot. It's always surprising how much Ian likes to touch him, and how worked up he gets when it's impossible. Seeing Ian's reddened wrists twisting and pulling against the fabric in desperation to touch him makes Souji's already-uncomfortable pants even tighter, and he can't help the blush beginning to rise. It's embarrassing how even something like that can get to him; how Ian hasn't even touched him, and yet he's already on the verge of coming inside his own damn pants.
It's a small blessing that Ian's distracted enough to not make fun of him, and as Souji trails his tongue along the sharp outline of Ian's pelvic bone his free hand quickly lowers to undo the button and zipper of his pants. There's a sharp gasp from Ian in tune with the sound of the zipper lowering, and Souji's blush intensifies at the realisation of how loud that was. Obviously Ian's now aware of his situation, but – if his increased attempts to outright fuck Souji's hand are any indication – it doesn't seem like the kind of thing he's about to tease him for.
“Souji.” The way Ian says his name is different this time. It's still husky, still low, still carrying that underlying promise to pin Souji against the wall and make him forget his name next time—but it's also a request. Souji looks up, tongue paused against Ian's hot skin, and Ian – god. His hair is damp with sweat and clinging to his flushed face, his eyes are dark with passion and the way he's looking at Souji is almost predatory. It sends a jolt of unexpected pleasure straight through Souji, and he can feel himself twitch inside his underwear.
Ian's tongue slides out, wetting his lips, and he swallows harshly. Souji's tongue resumes, drawing a slow circle on the skin where Ian's pubic hair would begin if he weren't so insistent about waxing it away, and he's treated to the sight of Ian's chin tilting and his teeth closing on his bottom lip in response. It takes a moment for him to regain himself (he has to swallow hard again, Souji notices with satisfaction) but Souji is patient, his tongue being replaced by a drag of his lips. If there's something that Ian wants to say, then he'll let him say it.
“I want to watch.” Except that. Souji stills, lips still pressed against him, and they don't need to have the eye contact that they do for Ian to see how quickly the blush rises on Souji's face. That's—embarrassing, that's so embarrassing and—dammit, Ian.
In a quick movement, Souji shifts and then his mouth is around Ian's cock, sucking on him even as his fist tightens and pumps. Ian's choked gasp is a clear indicator of his surprise, and again his back arches and his hips lift, automatically trying to press as much of himself into Souji as possible.
It was a bad move on Souji's part, he realises belatedly, because the heady taste of Ian on his tongue, the feel of his hard erection filling his mouth just makes him whimper with how hard he is himself. And—well, Ian's never laughed at him about this sort of thing before, and he said he wanted to watch, and—fuck, fuck it.
It's almost shameful how quickly Souji's hand, the one not working the part of Ian that he can't fit into his mouth, gets jammed into his pants to wrap around his own erection. He can't help but moan around Ian, and there's a whimpered word in—some language, Souji can't keep them straight at a time like this—and the creak of the headboard gives away just how harshly Ian's pulling at his restraints. Souji's quickly losing control of the situation; he wants Ian to touch him – wants Ian's hands pulling at his hair and Ian's teeth on his neck; wants Ian's fingers pressing inside of him, fucking him.
He pulls away from Ian's dick, panting, and his fist continues to pump him. It's immediately obvious from a glance that Ian's lust-dark eyes are focused on Souji's arm, and the movements it makes as he strokes himself. He really wasn't lying when he said he wanted to watch, then, and again the blush heats Souji's face. He doesn't stop, though. A part of him (the same part that imagines Ian bending him over his school table, and the part that fantasises about sucking him off from under the teacher's desk) is thrilled by the attention, by the thought of Ian watching as he gets himself off.
He shifts again, rising to his knees with his hand still working himself inside his underwear. He's never felt so vulnerable, so ridiculously inappropriate as he does now, but the twitch of Ian's erection and his subsequent moan are testament to the truth of his desire. Souji bites his lip hard, but it doesn't stop his whimper and it feels really too good to be touching both of them at the same time.
“Take them off.” Ian's voice is a husky croak, and Souji's hips roll in trained response. That's usually the tone Ian takes when he's sliding into him, whispering breathy words into his ear, and Souji's body has come to expect amazing things whenever Ian begins to sound like that.
It's more difficult than it should be, to release himself and Ian for long enough to push the fabric of his pants and underwear down off his hips. A gasp escapes him as his erection is freed from the tight confines, and the way Ian's gaze is almost intimidating with how intently he zeroes in on it. It's obvious where his mind is; his lips parting and tongue quickly wetting them leave no room for doubt, and somehow that action soothes some of Souji's self-conscious doubt.
He has to stand, rising from Ian's bed to remove the clothing entirely, and it's testament to how far gone he is that he just leaves them in a heap. He wastes no time before he's back on the bed, straddling Ian's hips with his hands gripping the sheets either side of him now rather than resting between his knees. Ian jerks at the contact, and with a strangled moan he presses up. Souji can feel his hard length pressing against his backside, and he's not even aware of the quiet moan that he makes as he presses back against Ian. He slides himself carefully down a few inches, until his cock is pressed against Ian's, and his head instantly drops with a whimper at the pleasure of it. Their hips roll in sync, and it's not long before one of Souji's trembling hands lifts from the sheets to wrap around himself again. Ian said he wanted to watch, so...
Souji's knuckles brush against Ian's cock with every stroke of himself, and he knows that if Ian's mind weren't being unravelled by the teasing, that there would be another frustrated glare in his direction. As it is Ian's head is pressed back firmly against the pillow; his eyes are clenched shut and Souji can tell, from the way the muscle in Ian's jaw is working, that he's trying hard to not come from this.
It takes more willpower than he'll admit to still his hand, but Souji does it anyway. He can only imagine how he looks right now; his shirt's still on, and it's long enough that it brushes against his thighs with every movement. Ian hasn't been able to touch his hair since they started, but Souji's sure it's still ruffled and dishevelled, and he knows for a fact that last week's hickey is still a vibrant bruise against his collarbone. With an appearance like that, coupled with the fact that he was straddling Ian with his dick in his hand--
“I thought you said you wanted to watch.” His own throat is dry, and when Souji swallows he can still taste Ian's semen on his tongue. It does nothing to help his situation, but thankfully for once it seems Ian's much closer to the edge than he is. It doesn't even take a second before Ian's eyes have snapped open, and a second after that there's a hand on his hip – and Souji realises, belatedly, that he'd forgotten to keep an eye on the progress Ian was making with his tie.
A second after that and Ian's other hand is on him, the tie still wrapped around it. Clearly Ian didn't care enough at that moment to remove it properly, and in the next instant Souji feels the firm pressure of Ian's hands lifting him and the world spins—and then the mattress is pressing against his back, and Ian's mouth is on his, his tongue pressing in, and Souji doesn't know when he got it but there's the unmistakable sound of the lube being opened. His legs spread instantly and he moans around Ian's tongue, and Souji doesn't have it within himself to be embarrassed about making noises before he's even touched.
Ian's mouth is like fire and his lips are like electricity, sending sparks through Souji. His own tongue presses against Ian's firmly, sliding along it and pressing it back in a bid for dominance. Ian is having none of it, though – his teeth close sharply against Souji's tongue, admonishing him, and the desperate moan that Souji gives when Ian's teeth scrape along his tongue is nothing compared to the noise he makes when Ian's fingers, slick with lube, suddenly press against him.
Souji's not sure if it's him pressing back against Ian's fingers so firmly that does it, but there's no time wasted before he feels the first finger sliding into him. He whimpers Ian's name against his mouth, rolling his hips and then there's the second finger, stretching him, and Souji's back arches instantly with a gasp. Ian's free hand rises, tangling in Souji's hair and pulling to force him to turn his head to the side. His lips leave his to kiss hungrily along his jaw, to his neck where he bites hard at the same time his fingers curl inside of him, and Souji's cry of his name is as involuntary as it is satisfying.
Ian's fingers leave him, then, and Souji chokes on a plea because no, Ian—keep going, he needs to feel that but thank god this is not one of the times Ian suddenly decides to slow down the pace to tease him. Instead, Ian's arm hooks under Souji's leg, raising it to rest his ankle on his shoulder, and Souji allows it eagerly. It's not a second later that Ian's finally pressing into him, and Souji's hands instantly find themselves gripping Ian's hair, pulling him back to his mouth for another hot, begging kiss.
It feels good, so good to have Ian inside of him. There's the small pull of discomfort, of course, from being filled, but Souji couldn't care less about it. Ian's usual considerate disposition seems to be shot, because he doesn't wait before pulling his hips back and slamming into him. Souji's hands tighten in his hair and Ian moans so deeply against his mouth that it's almost a growl, and even that is nothing to compared to Souji's volume. Ian sets a fast pace, fucking Souji in a way he's never done before. It's brutal, animalistic, and Souji's going to hurt like hell in the morning but fuck if it doesn't feel amazing.
He doesn't feel Ian's arm shifting around his thigh, but he sure does feel Ian's slim fingers wrapping around his cock and it's so impossibly good. Ian's hand is tight in his hair, fingers firmly entangled in brown strands, and the pain of it heightens Souji's senses a ridiculous amount. He's pushing back against Ian in time with his thrusts, practically fucking himself, and Ian's name is a constant stream spilling from his lips. Every inch of his body is on fire, and as always he can feel his melody raising in strength, curling and singing with Ian's until all his soul consists of is them.
It's no surprise when Souji feels that familiar tight warmth running through him, when his muscles tense and he chokes on Ian's name. His orgasm is almost blinding with its intensity, his back arching and his entire body tenses as the pleasure overtakes him. He barely hears Ian's groan of his name, hardly feels the hot pleasure of Ian releasing inside of him over the incredible waves of sexual bliss.
It seems to last forever, his orgasm, and when Souji finally rides it out enough to take a gasping breath he's dizzy from the experience. Ian's barely doing any better; his forehead is pressed against Souji's shoulder and he's panting heavily, and it takes Souji a moment to realise he's shaking.
His hands, now limp in Ian's hair, slide down to rest against the back of his neck. They lay like that for some time, regaining their breath, and it seems that Ian's just as beyond words as Souji is because after a few minutes he shifts; he pulls out from Souji carefully (and there's a small moan from Souji at the sensation of it – god, why does it always feel so good) and lowers his leg back to the bed without saying a single thing. Ian's still shaking when he raises himself up enough for his trembling fingers to undo the last remaining buttons of Souji's shirt, and obediently Souji raises himself enough that Ian can slide it off of him.
For once, he doesn't complain about how Ian uses his shirt to wipe away the mess from their stomachs (it's always his shirt. Ian's never once used his own clothing to clean them up, the bastard) or about how he tosses it carelessly on the floor. Instead, he wriggles himself to remove the blanket from underneath their bodies, and when Ian lays on him again he works to cover them both.
It's only due to a year or so of practice that they're able to quickly arrange themselves into the best position to enjoy their afterglow. Souji's arms wrap around Ian's shoulders, holding him close just as Ian's arm rests around his waist. Ian's ankle hooks around Souji's, entwining their legs, and against Souji's back Ian's fingers lazily draw nonsense pictures.
This is by far one of Souji's favourite parts of sex. The teasing, the pleasure – of course they were amazing, of course he enjoyed them. But being able to lay here with Ian, both of them utterly and blissfully relaxed...
There's a small smile on his lips when he presses them to Ian's in a languid kiss, and Souji knows he's not imagining feeling an answering smile pressing back.