Multi-part: Intervention: Third Date (cont)
Title: Intervention: Third Date (cont.)
Pairing: Ikuta Toma / Sakurai Sho
Rating: R
Genre: smutt
A/N: I tried writing smutt in a different style this time...cuz Im getting tired of writing pr0n. LOL. *facepalms* Hope it worked.
Cool bedsheets clenched between his fingers, icy air on his heated skin, the taste of the dinner he’d spoiled and the tanginess of the wine Toma had brought…he catalogues his senses as he counts every breath; his feeble attempt to keep from coming undone.
His stream of conscious idly notes how Toma’s kisses aren’t like anything he’s ever experienced before: They aren’t like Jun’s which stir a fierce protectiveness within him. They aren’t like Masaki’s that make him want to laugh and never stop. They aren’t the lazy Sunday kisses that Satoshi is best at. Nor are they painful, like when Kazu is feeling more mischievous and prefers nipping to actual kisses.
Toma’s kisses burn through him like electricity in his veins, rushing to his head, until his vision is white at the edges.
He wants to reciprocate, to make Toma feel as good as he does, but all he can think is more…
…more, the feel of strong fingers digging painfully into his hips.
…more, the feel of Toma’s tongue caressing his own.
…more, the feel of soft lips as they thoroughly memorized the planes of his chest.
…more, the delicious heat of an oil slicked hand, dragging torturously slow along his length, and the thumb that dragged along the underside.
The counting continues in his head and his eyes are screwed tightly shut because he’s afraid visual stimulation will send him into sensory overload. Toma’s voice is suddenly directly in his ear, a smug, “Still with me baby?” cutting through the fog in his brain. His eyes fly open when a hand caresses his cheek, and he’s greeted to the sight of Toma smirking down at him. A growl erupts from his chest as he snags the younger man by the scruff of the neck, dragging him down to devour his mouth.
The suddenness of the action upsets Toma’s balance, and both men cry out when Toma lands atop him, their painfully hard erections trapped between them. The younger man makes to move away, but he quickly hooks a leg around Toma’s, fastens his fingers at the younger man’s hips, and thrusts, hard.
Toma’s groan is a deep rumble in his chest that reverberates into Sho, making him scrabble to pull Toma even closer, still, his hips moving of their own volition.
“S-Sho…s-stop…” Toma gasps, even as the younger man’s hips move in time to his frenzied pace.
“No, don’t stop,” he hisses through clenched teeth, his stuttering breaths ending in soft whimpers.
The ringing in his ears blocks out all other sounds, save for the occasional groan or softly uttered curse right next to his ear; his toes begin to curl as his back arches further into each upward thrust. His heart skips a beat when Toma suddenly rolls off of him, and he chokes on a sob when it starts up frantically. A hand on his wrist prevents him from finishing himself off, strong fingers entwining with his own, pining him to the mattress.
Beads of sweat trickle down his neck, down his chest, down the insides of his thighs - he shivers at the cool trail they leave behind. The pounding in his ears escalates to a scream when Toma grasps the base of his cock and gives it a firm, yet gentle squeeze; the urgency to come abates. He whimpers pathetically as he slumps back against the rumpled sheets.
Coherency returns to him in a flood; he feels the bed dip around him as the younger man shuffles around, hears the hum of the a/c as it kicks back on, feels Toma’s hair tickling his torso as he plants open mouth kisses in a haphazard trail.
He opens his mouth to demand more, but all that comes out is a breathy, “…please…” and now that he’s started, he can’t stop. The single word, uttered over and over again, like a dying man’s last prayer.
With a firm grip on his ankle, Toma raises his leg to settle it around his waist, and he moves to secure it firmly. His other leg is splayed out amongst the bed sheets, moving restlessly. A hand caressing his stomach makes his eyes blink open blearily, in time to catch the smoldering look in Toma’s eyes just as an oil slicked finger breaches him slowly.
He thinks things like “breathe” and “relax” as he’s slowly stretched and his toes curl, a whine erupting from him as a second finger is added and he thinks he might have blacked out for a moment when the third finger was added and Toma’s fingers bumped against that coil of nerves that made stars explode behind his eyelids and when did his other leg get up on Toma’s shoulder like that?!
But, those thoughts are trivial matters compared to the fingers digging into his hips and abs and thighs and anywhere else the younger man can get a good purchase of, and the feel of Toma’s bone-hard dick bumping against his entrance. He moans Toma’s name as he’s filled, unable to keep from clamping down around the younger man.
“Fuuuck,” Toma groans, the gravely timbre making his blood boil. The younger mans groan turns into a growl as he hovers over him buried to the balls. “Relax,” Toma hisses through clenched teeth, “….or I c-cant…” His only answer is to draw the younger man closer, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as Toma is pulled in deeper.
His body is trembling, begging, screaming for release, but when he opens his mouth, all he can manage is “more.” But, the single word spurns Toma into action as he pulls almost fully out before plunging back in on the same heartbeat. Throaty growls and breathy sobs
mingle together as they hit a frantic pace and when Toma pauses to hike Sho’s hips higher and slams back in, he feels himself rip apart at the seams. Toma’s hand on his dick pumping him ruthlessly is more than enough to send him over the brink, and he feels as well as hears, as Toma follows soon after.
He feels like he just did 10K uphill on his stationary bike, and there’s a fuzziness building at this temples indicating a lack of oxygen and an impending blackout. Then, Toma’s face appears in his vision, winded, red-faced, eyes shining with utter adoration, as he draws him into lazy, open-mouth kisses that have him purring contentedly in no time.
____
“I’m sorry,” Toma murmurs against Sho’s shoulder much later in the night. The older man grunts in question as he rolls over, throwing a leg over Toma’s in the process. “You’re going to have bruises in the morning,” Toma explains, placing kisses along the newly exposed stretch of collarbone.
“S’ok,” Sho mumbles tiredly, nuzzling his face into Toma’s hair. “…let’s do it again sometime.”
A/N: uke!Sho ftw! LOL. I think that might be the end of this series, just cuz, thats what the whole thing was leading up to, the smutt. I have more bromance in the works though; Shunmeister and Tomanator are at it again. *woot!* And, just a little something to share with those that have been reading: Nippon no Arashi
Pairing: Ikuta Toma / Sakurai Sho
Rating: R
Genre: smutt
A/N: I tried writing smutt in a different style this time...cuz Im getting tired of writing pr0n. LOL. *facepalms* Hope it worked.
Cool bedsheets clenched between his fingers, icy air on his heated skin, the taste of the dinner he’d spoiled and the tanginess of the wine Toma had brought…he catalogues his senses as he counts every breath; his feeble attempt to keep from coming undone.
His stream of conscious idly notes how Toma’s kisses aren’t like anything he’s ever experienced before: They aren’t like Jun’s which stir a fierce protectiveness within him. They aren’t like Masaki’s that make him want to laugh and never stop. They aren’t the lazy Sunday kisses that Satoshi is best at. Nor are they painful, like when Kazu is feeling more mischievous and prefers nipping to actual kisses.
Toma’s kisses burn through him like electricity in his veins, rushing to his head, until his vision is white at the edges.
He wants to reciprocate, to make Toma feel as good as he does, but all he can think is more…
…more, the feel of strong fingers digging painfully into his hips.
…more, the feel of Toma’s tongue caressing his own.
…more, the feel of soft lips as they thoroughly memorized the planes of his chest.
…more, the delicious heat of an oil slicked hand, dragging torturously slow along his length, and the thumb that dragged along the underside.
The counting continues in his head and his eyes are screwed tightly shut because he’s afraid visual stimulation will send him into sensory overload. Toma’s voice is suddenly directly in his ear, a smug, “Still with me baby?” cutting through the fog in his brain. His eyes fly open when a hand caresses his cheek, and he’s greeted to the sight of Toma smirking down at him. A growl erupts from his chest as he snags the younger man by the scruff of the neck, dragging him down to devour his mouth.
The suddenness of the action upsets Toma’s balance, and both men cry out when Toma lands atop him, their painfully hard erections trapped between them. The younger man makes to move away, but he quickly hooks a leg around Toma’s, fastens his fingers at the younger man’s hips, and thrusts, hard.
Toma’s groan is a deep rumble in his chest that reverberates into Sho, making him scrabble to pull Toma even closer, still, his hips moving of their own volition.
“S-Sho…s-stop…” Toma gasps, even as the younger man’s hips move in time to his frenzied pace.
“No, don’t stop,” he hisses through clenched teeth, his stuttering breaths ending in soft whimpers.
The ringing in his ears blocks out all other sounds, save for the occasional groan or softly uttered curse right next to his ear; his toes begin to curl as his back arches further into each upward thrust. His heart skips a beat when Toma suddenly rolls off of him, and he chokes on a sob when it starts up frantically. A hand on his wrist prevents him from finishing himself off, strong fingers entwining with his own, pining him to the mattress.
Beads of sweat trickle down his neck, down his chest, down the insides of his thighs - he shivers at the cool trail they leave behind. The pounding in his ears escalates to a scream when Toma grasps the base of his cock and gives it a firm, yet gentle squeeze; the urgency to come abates. He whimpers pathetically as he slumps back against the rumpled sheets.
Coherency returns to him in a flood; he feels the bed dip around him as the younger man shuffles around, hears the hum of the a/c as it kicks back on, feels Toma’s hair tickling his torso as he plants open mouth kisses in a haphazard trail.
He opens his mouth to demand more, but all that comes out is a breathy, “…please…” and now that he’s started, he can’t stop. The single word, uttered over and over again, like a dying man’s last prayer.
With a firm grip on his ankle, Toma raises his leg to settle it around his waist, and he moves to secure it firmly. His other leg is splayed out amongst the bed sheets, moving restlessly. A hand caressing his stomach makes his eyes blink open blearily, in time to catch the smoldering look in Toma’s eyes just as an oil slicked finger breaches him slowly.
He thinks things like “breathe” and “relax” as he’s slowly stretched and his toes curl, a whine erupting from him as a second finger is added and he thinks he might have blacked out for a moment when the third finger was added and Toma’s fingers bumped against that coil of nerves that made stars explode behind his eyelids and when did his other leg get up on Toma’s shoulder like that?!
But, those thoughts are trivial matters compared to the fingers digging into his hips and abs and thighs and anywhere else the younger man can get a good purchase of, and the feel of Toma’s bone-hard dick bumping against his entrance. He moans Toma’s name as he’s filled, unable to keep from clamping down around the younger man.
“Fuuuck,” Toma groans, the gravely timbre making his blood boil. The younger mans groan turns into a growl as he hovers over him buried to the balls. “Relax,” Toma hisses through clenched teeth, “….or I c-cant…” His only answer is to draw the younger man closer, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as Toma is pulled in deeper.
His body is trembling, begging, screaming for release, but when he opens his mouth, all he can manage is “more.” But, the single word spurns Toma into action as he pulls almost fully out before plunging back in on the same heartbeat. Throaty growls and breathy sobs
mingle together as they hit a frantic pace and when Toma pauses to hike Sho’s hips higher and slams back in, he feels himself rip apart at the seams. Toma’s hand on his dick pumping him ruthlessly is more than enough to send him over the brink, and he feels as well as hears, as Toma follows soon after.
He feels like he just did 10K uphill on his stationary bike, and there’s a fuzziness building at this temples indicating a lack of oxygen and an impending blackout. Then, Toma’s face appears in his vision, winded, red-faced, eyes shining with utter adoration, as he draws him into lazy, open-mouth kisses that have him purring contentedly in no time.
____
“I’m sorry,” Toma murmurs against Sho’s shoulder much later in the night. The older man grunts in question as he rolls over, throwing a leg over Toma’s in the process. “You’re going to have bruises in the morning,” Toma explains, placing kisses along the newly exposed stretch of collarbone.
“S’ok,” Sho mumbles tiredly, nuzzling his face into Toma’s hair. “…let’s do it again sometime.”
A/N: uke!Sho ftw! LOL. I think that might be the end of this series, just cuz, thats what the whole thing was leading up to, the smutt. I have more bromance in the works though; Shunmeister and Tomanator are at it again. *woot!* And, just a little something to share with those that have been reading: Nippon no Arashi