LOG: Byakuya-Urahara
In which there is making-out and a special guest appearance by Rukia. :D
Byakuya: Byakuya walked into the living room with his cup of unspiked punch in hand after Yuzu and Karin dragged Rukia off to open her presents from them. Sighing tiredly, he sat down on the couch and rubbed at his neck. He never wore gigai's often, and being in one for a long period of time always became uncomfortable.
Urahara: Urahara watched him from the kitchen, bring his cup to his lips and biting the rim, missing his fan. He had dressed more casually this time in a white shirt and simple black trousers (things Tessai had picked out and Jinta had vetoed but to which Ururu had given a shy thumbs-up). He walked towards Byakuya, taking a seat on the armrest, his fingers pulling Byakuya's hair from his neck. "I could give you a massage, ne?" he offered. His thumb rubbed over the spot just beneath Byakuya's ear. "I'm very good at it. ^_^"
Byakuya: However, the reaction from Byakuya was to stiffen even more as he shifted away from Urahara. "That will not be necessary," he said, clearing his throat softly. "It will pass."
Urahara: Urahara removed his hand and shrugged. "Missing out. ^_^" Keeping his eyes on Byakuya, he took another sip from his cup. He waited a few moments before standing and moving to the other side of Byakuya, taking a seat next to him, a few inches away. His fingers played at the hem of Byakuya's shirt. "Hm. This is different from the one you wore last time we were here."
Byakuya: Byakuya blinked and shifted again, although he stayed where he was. "I was under the impression that humans changed clothes on a daily basis." The tightness in his neck refused to leave and his attention strayed from Urahara as his hand went up again, fingers pressing into his skin.
Urahara: "I wasn't talking about hygeine," said Urahara, his voice low, glance shifting upward to Byakuya's face. He drained his cup and leaned over Byakuya to place it on the small table he found there. He looked at Byakuya, smiling at the awkwardness. Placing one hand on Byakuya's chest, Urahara slowly maneuvered himself onto Byakuya's lap, one leg on either side, knees digging into the the couch. His hands reached for Byakuya's, resting them on top of his thighs before sliding his hands up to Byakuya's neck, fingertips massaging gently but firmly. "Hm," he said thoughtfully, continuing to massage.
Byakuya: Byakuya's eyes widened and he hissed angrily at Urahara to get off of him, glancing over at the doorway, absolutely certain that someone (or perhaps the entire family) was going to enter at that very moment. "Urahara," he said quite forcibly. "Stop this at once."
Urahara: Urahara leaned in, keeping his eyes level with Byakuya's. "They're cutting cake, ne?" He shifted closer. "They'll be occupied a while," he added more quietly before moving one hand hand higher, fingers soft against Byakuya's jaw, finger tracing the thin lips before he kissed him, pulling back after a few seconds. "You're so shy," he said, threading his fingers through the dark, long locks of hair. "And you're blushing," he added.
Byakuya: Byakuya's protest went unheard when Urahara kissed him, and he didn't have an eloquent enough reply to Urahara's words after. "This is not your home," he said finally, refusing to look away. "You could stand to be more respectful."
Urahara: Urahara blinked at him. Then he looked around at the empty room...before blinking some more. "Would you be more comfortable in a hallway?" he asked, shifting one hand to Byakuya's shirt and sliding two fingers beneath, excitement and restrained want flowing through his body. He rested his forehead against Byakuya's, kissing him lightly. "Couches can be even better." Nuzzling slightly, he pressed soft kisses to Byakuya's lips, cheek and jaw, trailing his way down to his neck. His lips slid against the warm skin, stopping at a spot just above his collar. Coaxing the skin into his mouth with his tongue, Urahara began to suck gently.
Byakuya: The tight line Byakuya's mouth was in wavered as Urahara kissed down his neck and he reached up, fisting Urahara's shirt in both hands loosely. "What are you..." Byakuya drifted off at the first lick, head falling forward just barely. He tried again. "Stop this." That certainly came out less commanding than he had planned. His hands tightened their grasp on Urahara's shirt.
Urahara: Ignoring Byakuya, Urahara bent his neck a little bit, finding a more comfortable angle. His hips shifted closer as he did so, their stomachs almost touching. He covered one of Byakuya's hands with his own as he bit down, holding for one, two, three seconds before running his tongue over Byakuya's neck, sucking harder this time.
Byakuya: Byakuya's eyes fell closed at the same time his lips parted slightly, soft, shallow breaths leaving in short puffs. He wasn't sure when his hands had stopped pushing Urahara away, but he had learned by now that Urahara's best talent was distraction; it was something that even he couldn't fight off for long, as exemplified by the (unfortunately) decreasing time between when Urahara would do something, and when Byakuya would give in. "Urahara..." It was soft, the consonants blending with the vowels instead of falling sharply off his tongue.
Urahara: At the sound of his name, Urahara pulled back a little - just enough to run his tongue along the bottom of his ear, biting down teasingly for a few moments. "I like when you say my name," he whispered against the black hair, kissing his cheek gently before lowering his head to find the darkening circle of skin. He ran his finger across it once before placing his lips on top, continuing to bite and suck and mark Byakuya.
Byakuya: Byakuya gasped as quietly as he could whenever Urahara's teeth grazed across his skin. He was vaguely aware that Urahara was concentrating on the same spot, but his thoughts were disrupted as Urahara chose to lick slowly and purposefully often. His hands let go of Urahara's shirt to slip underneath the thin fabric, wanting to touch Urahara, and he dug his fingernails into Urahara's sides, leaving marks of his own.
Urahara: As Byakuya's fingers scratched against his skin, Urahara slid both his arms around Byakuya's neck and shoulders. The thin, angry red lines felt hot; his hips rocked forward, just a little, encouraging Byakuya silently as he moved his mouth higher on Byakuya's neck, sucking hard on the fast-bruising skin.
Byakuya: Byakuya squeezed his eyes shut even tighter, head falling forward onto Urahara's shoulder. His hands followed Urahara's hips, neither pushing or pulling. A few moments passed before Byakuya let go with one hand, and slid it up until it was between their chests, his palm flat against Urahara's chest. He applied pressure, but not enough to push Urahara away. Byakuya hated how indecisive he was whenever it came to Urahara.
Urahara: The hand at his chest was warm and Urahara kissed Byakuya's neck once before raising his head and shifting his body further back, looking at Byakuya. He drew one hand up to Byakuya's jaw, holding it lightly. "Don't think so much," he whispered as he bent forward, pressing their lips together.
Byakuya: Despite Urahara's words, Byakuya thought heavily about how soft Urahara's lips were and he tilted his head up to get closer. It crossed his mind briefly that Urahara was always gentle towards him, if incredibly bothersome at the same time. The hand on Urahara's chest slipped around his side to rest against Urahara's back.
Urahara: Urahara tilted his head a little to the side as he slipped his tongue easily inside Byakuya's mouth. Heat and excitement seemed to flood through him at every different touch Byakuya made on his body. He relaxed against Byakuya, kissing slowly, kissing deeply, moving his hand from Byakuya's jaw down to his shirt, unclasping the buttons as he'd done once before. He only undid half before sliding his hand, palm-downward, against the warm chest, memorising the feel.
Byakuya: Byakuya slid his tongue along Urahara's hesitantly, mostly letting Urahara lead. He wasn't sure why he didn't stop Urahara from unbuttoning his shirt, even as he froze when Urahara's hand touched his skin. In the end, he let the blame rest on Urahara's mouth for keeping all his attention and halting his motor skills. But that didn't explain for his fingers that were tracing circles against Urahara's side.
Rukia: "Let me go and see if Nii-sama wants some cake to take home, then," Rukia smiled at Isshin and Karin and Yuzu while almost skipping into the living room. She figured, through process of elimination that is probably where her brother (and probably Urahara that annoying menace) had disappeared to. "Nii-sama, are you here?"
Then she stopped. In her tracks.
Rukia's eyes opened wider and wider undtil her eyebrows threatened to leave the hemisphere of her face altogether.
There was her brother and Urahara. Making out. Like. REALLY. Making out. On the couch. In fact with the way Urahara was positioned, Rukia could not be sure that something more wasn't happening or about to happen.
"NII-SAMA?! URAHARA?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! AND IN ICHIGO'S LIVING ROOM AND-- DURING MY BIRTHDAY AND-- WHY-- WHAT ARE YOU-- WHO--- WHEN-- IS THAT WHY YOU LEFT--" It was at that point during which the poor girl failed to formulate more words and settled, instead, for verbally keysmashing for a few minutes, turning bright red and hurling a large pillow at Urahara before quickly stomping away.
And then lots of awkwardness ensued. *\o/*
Byakuya: Byakuya walked into the living room with his cup of unspiked punch in hand after Yuzu and Karin dragged Rukia off to open her presents from them. Sighing tiredly, he sat down on the couch and rubbed at his neck. He never wore gigai's often, and being in one for a long period of time always became uncomfortable.
Urahara: Urahara watched him from the kitchen, bring his cup to his lips and biting the rim, missing his fan. He had dressed more casually this time in a white shirt and simple black trousers (things Tessai had picked out and Jinta had vetoed but to which Ururu had given a shy thumbs-up). He walked towards Byakuya, taking a seat on the armrest, his fingers pulling Byakuya's hair from his neck. "I could give you a massage, ne?" he offered. His thumb rubbed over the spot just beneath Byakuya's ear. "I'm very good at it. ^_^"
Byakuya: However, the reaction from Byakuya was to stiffen even more as he shifted away from Urahara. "That will not be necessary," he said, clearing his throat softly. "It will pass."
Urahara: Urahara removed his hand and shrugged. "Missing out. ^_^" Keeping his eyes on Byakuya, he took another sip from his cup. He waited a few moments before standing and moving to the other side of Byakuya, taking a seat next to him, a few inches away. His fingers played at the hem of Byakuya's shirt. "Hm. This is different from the one you wore last time we were here."
Byakuya: Byakuya blinked and shifted again, although he stayed where he was. "I was under the impression that humans changed clothes on a daily basis." The tightness in his neck refused to leave and his attention strayed from Urahara as his hand went up again, fingers pressing into his skin.
Urahara: "I wasn't talking about hygeine," said Urahara, his voice low, glance shifting upward to Byakuya's face. He drained his cup and leaned over Byakuya to place it on the small table he found there. He looked at Byakuya, smiling at the awkwardness. Placing one hand on Byakuya's chest, Urahara slowly maneuvered himself onto Byakuya's lap, one leg on either side, knees digging into the the couch. His hands reached for Byakuya's, resting them on top of his thighs before sliding his hands up to Byakuya's neck, fingertips massaging gently but firmly. "Hm," he said thoughtfully, continuing to massage.
Byakuya: Byakuya's eyes widened and he hissed angrily at Urahara to get off of him, glancing over at the doorway, absolutely certain that someone (or perhaps the entire family) was going to enter at that very moment. "Urahara," he said quite forcibly. "Stop this at once."
Urahara: Urahara leaned in, keeping his eyes level with Byakuya's. "They're cutting cake, ne?" He shifted closer. "They'll be occupied a while," he added more quietly before moving one hand hand higher, fingers soft against Byakuya's jaw, finger tracing the thin lips before he kissed him, pulling back after a few seconds. "You're so shy," he said, threading his fingers through the dark, long locks of hair. "And you're blushing," he added.
Byakuya: Byakuya's protest went unheard when Urahara kissed him, and he didn't have an eloquent enough reply to Urahara's words after. "This is not your home," he said finally, refusing to look away. "You could stand to be more respectful."
Urahara: Urahara blinked at him. Then he looked around at the empty room...before blinking some more. "Would you be more comfortable in a hallway?" he asked, shifting one hand to Byakuya's shirt and sliding two fingers beneath, excitement and restrained want flowing through his body. He rested his forehead against Byakuya's, kissing him lightly. "Couches can be even better." Nuzzling slightly, he pressed soft kisses to Byakuya's lips, cheek and jaw, trailing his way down to his neck. His lips slid against the warm skin, stopping at a spot just above his collar. Coaxing the skin into his mouth with his tongue, Urahara began to suck gently.
Byakuya: The tight line Byakuya's mouth was in wavered as Urahara kissed down his neck and he reached up, fisting Urahara's shirt in both hands loosely. "What are you..." Byakuya drifted off at the first lick, head falling forward just barely. He tried again. "Stop this." That certainly came out less commanding than he had planned. His hands tightened their grasp on Urahara's shirt.
Urahara: Ignoring Byakuya, Urahara bent his neck a little bit, finding a more comfortable angle. His hips shifted closer as he did so, their stomachs almost touching. He covered one of Byakuya's hands with his own as he bit down, holding for one, two, three seconds before running his tongue over Byakuya's neck, sucking harder this time.
Byakuya: Byakuya's eyes fell closed at the same time his lips parted slightly, soft, shallow breaths leaving in short puffs. He wasn't sure when his hands had stopped pushing Urahara away, but he had learned by now that Urahara's best talent was distraction; it was something that even he couldn't fight off for long, as exemplified by the (unfortunately) decreasing time between when Urahara would do something, and when Byakuya would give in. "Urahara..." It was soft, the consonants blending with the vowels instead of falling sharply off his tongue.
Urahara: At the sound of his name, Urahara pulled back a little - just enough to run his tongue along the bottom of his ear, biting down teasingly for a few moments. "I like when you say my name," he whispered against the black hair, kissing his cheek gently before lowering his head to find the darkening circle of skin. He ran his finger across it once before placing his lips on top, continuing to bite and suck and mark Byakuya.
Byakuya: Byakuya gasped as quietly as he could whenever Urahara's teeth grazed across his skin. He was vaguely aware that Urahara was concentrating on the same spot, but his thoughts were disrupted as Urahara chose to lick slowly and purposefully often. His hands let go of Urahara's shirt to slip underneath the thin fabric, wanting to touch Urahara, and he dug his fingernails into Urahara's sides, leaving marks of his own.
Urahara: As Byakuya's fingers scratched against his skin, Urahara slid both his arms around Byakuya's neck and shoulders. The thin, angry red lines felt hot; his hips rocked forward, just a little, encouraging Byakuya silently as he moved his mouth higher on Byakuya's neck, sucking hard on the fast-bruising skin.
Byakuya: Byakuya squeezed his eyes shut even tighter, head falling forward onto Urahara's shoulder. His hands followed Urahara's hips, neither pushing or pulling. A few moments passed before Byakuya let go with one hand, and slid it up until it was between their chests, his palm flat against Urahara's chest. He applied pressure, but not enough to push Urahara away. Byakuya hated how indecisive he was whenever it came to Urahara.
Urahara: The hand at his chest was warm and Urahara kissed Byakuya's neck once before raising his head and shifting his body further back, looking at Byakuya. He drew one hand up to Byakuya's jaw, holding it lightly. "Don't think so much," he whispered as he bent forward, pressing their lips together.
Byakuya: Despite Urahara's words, Byakuya thought heavily about how soft Urahara's lips were and he tilted his head up to get closer. It crossed his mind briefly that Urahara was always gentle towards him, if incredibly bothersome at the same time. The hand on Urahara's chest slipped around his side to rest against Urahara's back.
Urahara: Urahara tilted his head a little to the side as he slipped his tongue easily inside Byakuya's mouth. Heat and excitement seemed to flood through him at every different touch Byakuya made on his body. He relaxed against Byakuya, kissing slowly, kissing deeply, moving his hand from Byakuya's jaw down to his shirt, unclasping the buttons as he'd done once before. He only undid half before sliding his hand, palm-downward, against the warm chest, memorising the feel.
Byakuya: Byakuya slid his tongue along Urahara's hesitantly, mostly letting Urahara lead. He wasn't sure why he didn't stop Urahara from unbuttoning his shirt, even as he froze when Urahara's hand touched his skin. In the end, he let the blame rest on Urahara's mouth for keeping all his attention and halting his motor skills. But that didn't explain for his fingers that were tracing circles against Urahara's side.
Rukia: "Let me go and see if Nii-sama wants some cake to take home, then," Rukia smiled at Isshin and Karin and Yuzu while almost skipping into the living room. She figured, through process of elimination that is probably where her brother (and probably Urahara that annoying menace) had disappeared to. "Nii-sama, are you here?"
Then she stopped. In her tracks.
Rukia's eyes opened wider and wider undtil her eyebrows threatened to leave the hemisphere of her face altogether.
There was her brother and Urahara. Making out. Like. REALLY. Making out. On the couch. In fact with the way Urahara was positioned, Rukia could not be sure that something more wasn't happening or about to happen.
"NII-SAMA?! URAHARA?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! AND IN ICHIGO'S LIVING ROOM AND-- DURING MY BIRTHDAY AND-- WHY-- WHAT ARE YOU-- WHO--- WHEN-- IS THAT WHY YOU LEFT--" It was at that point during which the poor girl failed to formulate more words and settled, instead, for verbally keysmashing for a few minutes, turning bright red and hurling a large pillow at Urahara before quickly stomping away.
And then lots of awkwardness ensued. *\o/*