[ there's no rush. that's what he tells himself as Gojou strokes him, petting over thin, fine fabric and feeling out the musculature beneath. he's putty in those hands, opening up everywhere pale fingers find themselves slipping in, touching, peeling him back open, a grunt in his throat as a nipple's worked hard and pronounced, bringing the other one along with it. by the time his back's against the table it's ridden back up high on his thighs, claimed seat of the crown prince, one hand going to his waist both to steady him and give the meat of his ass an appreciative little squeeze. ]
I wouldn't mind if they're hidden. Something only you get to see... [ the warm weight of his body is maddening, but not so hot and twisting as his tongue; he jerks and gasps, lungs filling up with breath, chest swelling further into his mouth. ] Right there, huh?
[ he teases, eyes warm, his other hand meeting his first in the middle... and peeling back the zipper and button of his jeans again. his fingers run delectably low on his belly, thumb moving through a pale happy trail and the elastic seam of his briefs... and right where the fabric bunches up as he'd hastily tucked himself away earlier, Getou sets the small box. ]
You have enough trouble keeping your mouth off of me, I can only imagine how bad it would be if I had something shiny and sensitive like that to attract your attention. [ bright eyes flicker back up to Gojou, mischievous and excited. inside, there's a tiny vibrating bullet, a model that usually comes in hot pink instead purchased in icy pastel blue as better suited to its new owner. it comes with body tape that can keep it pressed against the skin, wherever, and a little remote control. ]
We'll have to do things like this more often, if that's what you want to see. [ he sounds amenable. ]
[ gojo releases he nipple in his mouth, reluctantly, rocks back onto his hips and settles warm and firm on getou's. this is where he belongs, on those strong thighs, under that warm gaze. his hips twitch forward as getou's fingers slide low on his belly, thumb grazing the silver hair there in a way that has gojo licking his pink lips eagerly... until he blinks down at the weight on the bulge of his cock.]
[ oh, the gift. he'd almost forgotten all over again. ] I'd never have my mouth off you, if you had a nipple piercing... we might have to find a new line of work. [ he plucks the box up and glances at getou, warm and tingly under that mischievous gaze. he tears it open and pulls it out, pupils shrinking at the bright, icy blue bullet. his cheeks turn a powdery, soft shade of pink, and blue eyes sparkle as he rolls it in his hand to warm it up. ] It matches me.
[ he leans in and kisses getou greedily, licking into his mouth as his hips roll them together teasingly. ] We could quit and move to Malaysia... I've got a trust fund. We wouldn't have to work or fight curses, just play like this every night...
It matches you, [ he agrees, plucking out of the roll of Gojou's long fingers. he holds it in his mouth by the cord at its base, pulling the body tape out of the box and tearing off a strip, listening as he peels his cock out of his underwear again. some finicking, another round of tape, and him humming right along with those little fantasies all culminate in the bullet snugly secure against the underside of Gojou's cockhead, the bullet tip flush with the sensitive glans beneath a blushed-pink frenelum. the slick body runs parallel the pronounced ridge on the underside — and Getou kisses his thumb wet to trace around the slit of him as he tucks him back into place. ]
Every night? You're so insatiable... [ as if he isn't just as bad; he just has some decency about it all. or, pretends to. ]
[ the band of his boxer-briefs go up, and his jeans delicately zip and button, cords connecting to a small receiver that he tucks into Gojou's pocket along with the baby blue slack. the remote is his, placed into a palm and disappeared — though the six eyes will inform him it's been tucked into a kimono-sleeve pocket for safe keeping. his safe keeping. ]
But for now, [ and always: dreams like the ones Gojou's talking about are an impossibility for sorcerers, and Getou knows this is the result of spending a recent mission with Nanami, ] We're going to the arcade, right? Right?
[ he pitches forward, arms wrapping around Gojou's shoulder, mouth carried to his ear as his teeth find a lobe and nibble; this proximity, really, just to feel the oh so subtle vibrations of the bullet where it is as he clicks it onto the lowest setting, a soft and steady hum without pause. ]
I remember something about a purikura booth. [ how long's he had this in his back pocket? ] That one in Chiyoda is in a nice dark corner.
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bakerstreet2023-09-15 12:01 pm
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I wouldn't mind if they're hidden. Something only you get to see... [ the warm weight of his body is maddening, but not so hot and twisting as his tongue; he jerks and gasps, lungs filling up with breath, chest swelling further into his mouth. ] Right there, huh?
[ he teases, eyes warm, his other hand meeting his first in the middle... and peeling back the zipper and button of his jeans again. his fingers run delectably low on his belly, thumb moving through a pale happy trail and the elastic seam of his briefs... and right where the fabric bunches up as he'd hastily tucked himself away earlier, Getou sets the small box. ]
You have enough trouble keeping your mouth off of me, I can only imagine how bad it would be if I had something shiny and sensitive like that to attract your attention. [ bright eyes flicker back up to Gojou, mischievous and excited. inside, there's a tiny vibrating bullet, a model that usually comes in hot pink instead purchased in icy pastel blue as better suited to its new owner. it comes with body tape that can keep it pressed against the skin, wherever, and a little remote control. ]
We'll have to do things like this more often, if that's what you want to see. [ he sounds amenable. ]
no subject
[ oh, the gift. he'd almost forgotten all over again. ] I'd never have my mouth off you, if you had a nipple piercing... we might have to find a new line of work. [ he plucks the box up and glances at getou, warm and tingly under that mischievous gaze. he tears it open and pulls it out, pupils shrinking at the bright, icy blue bullet. his cheeks turn a powdery, soft shade of pink, and blue eyes sparkle as he rolls it in his hand to warm it up. ] It matches me.
[ he leans in and kisses getou greedily, licking into his mouth as his hips roll them together teasingly. ] We could quit and move to Malaysia... I've got a trust fund. We wouldn't have to work or fight curses, just play like this every night...
no subject
Every night? You're so insatiable... [ as if he isn't just as bad; he just has some decency about it all. or, pretends to. ]
[ the band of his boxer-briefs go up, and his jeans delicately zip and button, cords connecting to a small receiver that he tucks into Gojou's pocket along with the baby blue slack. the remote is his, placed into a palm and disappeared — though the six eyes will inform him it's been tucked into a kimono-sleeve pocket for safe keeping. his safe keeping. ]
But for now, [ and always: dreams like the ones Gojou's talking about are an impossibility for sorcerers, and Getou knows this is the result of spending a recent mission with Nanami, ] We're going to the arcade, right? Right?
[ he pitches forward, arms wrapping around Gojou's shoulder, mouth carried to his ear as his teeth find a lobe and nibble; this proximity, really, just to feel the oh so subtle vibrations of the bullet where it is as he clicks it onto the lowest setting, a soft and steady hum without pause. ]
I remember something about a purikura booth. [ how long's he had this in his back pocket? ] That one in Chiyoda is in a nice dark corner.