[Yes, more is okay. Please give him more. Takiji has a vivid picture of Akutagawa just doing this to him until he comes, of himself jerking against his bonds and staining Rashomon with white - and while he knows that he'd enjoy that, it isn't what he wants tonight.
He wants more of Akutagawa, and for that to happen, he has to be stretched out just a little more.]
[They're going to have to do this a lot, that much is obvious. There are too many possibilities, too many different ways to make Takiji feel good. This is just one of them, and it's so hard not to be impatient.]
[He can do this, though. He can see the rough outline of how good it will feel for Takiji a few minutes from now, and that's enough to sustain him as he eases the third finger in. Angling all three against the spot that makes Takiji so loud, he lets the pressure ease for a few moments before spreading his fingers and starting the rhythm up again.]
[Takiji manages it between the moans that Akutagawa pulls out of him, between the hitches of breath every time his fingers spread out more. There's a little discomfort underneath all the pleasure, but it's so easy to ignore. Just the thought of how soon Akutagawa will be inside him would be enough to wash away the discomfort that comes with being stretched.]
Please - I don't know if I can last...
[He wants to come with Akutagawa inside him. He wants that badly enough to ask for it.]
[Oh. Akutagawa groans, half muffled against Takiji's thigh. He doesn't bother asking anything stupid like are you sure, because Takiji's been sure of this from the start. He's never seemed surer of anything, honestly, which is one of the very many incredibly appealing things about this from start to finish. Takiji knows what he wants, and he knows that Akutagawa can give it to him.]
[It's hard not to rush at this point, but he doesn't. He eases his fingers out, biting his lip at the way Takiji looks right now, spread out and spread open, so flushed and so obviously close. Akutagawa is greedy in how much he looks Takiji over, dark eyes raking over every inch of his body as he grabs for the condom blindly and rips it open with his teeth. Once it's on, he slicks himself up, stroking himself rough and arrhythmically--he's close himself, and there's no point tempting fate.]
[It's easy to line himself up, to brace himself against the mattress and Takiji's hip and kiss Takiji wherever he can reach, to glance up at him one last time just to make sure it's okay. Pressing inside, though, steady and slow and easy: that might be the easiest, most natural thing he's ever done.]
[Takiji can't help but stare when Akutagawa's stroking himself, and not only because he knows what will follow after. Seeing how hard, how close he is for Takiji when Takiji has hardly even touched anywhere sensitive - Rashomon probably is not an erogenous zone - is flattering and awe-inspiring all at once.
It's okay, it's very okay when Akutagawa finally presses inside him. There's still a little discomfort at taking something bigger than what's meant to be there, but - Akutagawa is meant to be there, in his own way. They're joined together physically like they are emotionally, and it makes Takiji's heart swell.
He wets his lips, to try to say something, and then realizes he doesn't have words to describe this moment. All he can manage is a request.]
[There's a long moment where Akutagawa really can't conceive of movement, or words, or even coherent thought. Something about the combination of Takiji's expression and the way it feels--which is so much, hot and tight and close, he's never been this close to Takiji before--leaves him a helpless mess, biting down hard on his lip to keep grounded.]
[The request helps, though. Lost in what's new and strange, something as familiar and comforting as a kiss is easy. It feels right.]
[Akutagawa nods sharply, presses forward with one hand braced under Takiji's thigh, and kisses him. It's rough and messy and awfully needy. He can't make words, but he can say please, please, please just like this. The way he grinds his hips against Takiji a moment later, a small, searching movement, is a plea as well, but for something else--he wants to make Takiji feel good like that again.]
[Needy fits them. They both need this connection, more than they realized they did before they had it. Takiji moans against Akutagawa's lips, wordless but just as desperate as Akutagawa is right now.
It takes a moment or two of searching before Takiji cries out sharply - his whole body shakes, from the tips of his fingers and toes to where they're joined together. He's absolutely devastated in the best possible way.
[Ah. There. He did it, he did that, he made Takiji shake like that. It's the biggest, most all-encompassing thing he's ever felt, the pride and satisfaction of that knowledge mixed with the sensation. He can feel Takiji crying out from where they're joined together, he can feel how it makes Takiji feel, how he shakes and tightens, and--it's so much. It's not enough.]
[His fingers dig into the underside of Takiji's thigh, and he moves again. The same way, because he wants to hear that again. Maybe some other time he'll move more, but this is more than enough for him now, and if he moves like this he can make Takiji cry out like that. All he wants is to make Takiji feel good. This spot, this type of movement, this slow grinding rhythm, being held like this by all of Akutagawa, that's what Takiji wants. That's what Akutagawa will give him. He'd give Takiji anything.]
[It's hard to breathe steadily enough to keep kissing. He tries, though, biting at Takiji's lips before kissing him again, briefly but fiercely.]
[Breathing is overrated. Takiji can barely get air in his lungs when Akutagawa keeps grinding against him like that, rubbing that spot that makes him gasp every time from the flood of pleasure - just more and more-
Words are not as much a priority as air is, or as much as kissing is, and so Takiji can't say anything about the brink Akutagawa's pushing him towards. Maybe he knows already, from how hard and wet Takiji's cock is between the netting of Rashomon, from how his toes curl, from how utterly wrecked this feeling is making him.]
[Takiji has been wrecked for so long. Akutagawa would almost feel bad if it didn't feel so, so good. That's the thing, he can feel it; he can feel everything, all the way up and down Takiji's body. He can feel the way Takiji moves around his cock, he can feel how wet he is, he can feel the way his muscles tense and the way his breath catches.]
[It's so much. It's so overwhelming, but he wants more of it all the same. He wants to give Takiji more, always.]
Takiji, [he manages before he's going in for another kiss, his hand slipping between them to rub his thumb along the head of Takiji's cock. So wet--he groans against Takiji's mouth and does his best to move his hips and his hand in sync, to make Takiji feel so good he can't stand it.]
[He can't stand it at all. Akutagawa's hand against him, slick with his own precum, moves in the same rhythm as his hips and the hardness inside him, and he can't breathe, can't think, can't speak-
His mouth opens, but no sound comes out at all when he jerks upwards into Akutagawa's grip, and then again, and he's done. He spills white over Akutagawa's hand, over his stomach, over Rashomon.
If he were more aware of his surroundings, maybe he'd memorize the sight of white on Rashomon's red-and-black, but at the moment he can barely see in front of him, or remember his own name.]
[Akutagawa memorizes it. Despite everything, despite how good he feels and how close he is himself, everything else in the universe takes a backseat to how Takiji looks right now.]
[Takiji's wrecked. He's absolutely destroyed. Tied up and sweaty and breathless, wordless, coming. Takiji just came all over his own stomach and all over Rashomon, and Akutagawa is so mesmerized that all of a sudden this thing he's never done before becomes automatic. He knows what he wants, or some part of him does: to keep moving, to keep doing what he's been doing because it feels so good and so right, to let Takiji make him come.]
[He groans, shaking his head to get his hair out of his eyes. He needs to see. He needs to see what Takiji looks like as he's coming and just after, to look at him covered in come, dazed and exhausted and overstimulated. That's the most important thing, he thinks, reaching back to grip Takiji's thigh for stability again as he jerks his hips, his rhythm lost in desperation. That's the most important thing--so as much as he thinking looking at Takiji like this any longer might kill him, he doesn't close his eyes when he comes. Just shudders and bites his lip and loses himself in their closeness and Takiji's heat and how good he looks, how good he feels all over.]
[Takiji's mind is still hazy, but he manages to pull out of his fog soon enough to see Akutagawa - desperate, shuddering, losing himself in pleasure, in Takiji.
This sight, he'll remember for the rest of his life. He would never put it into a painting, because his meager skills could never do this moment justice. He'll only keep the memory close to his heart.
After a moment, he leans up as much as he can to try to kiss Akutagawa, more gently than they had before. He murmurs, breathless:]
I love you.
[So much that he can't stand it.]
Edited (belatedly remembers what bondage is) 2017-11-06 04:26 (UTC)
[It's automatic, natural, to lean down and meet Takiji halfway. His kiss is exhausted and unfocused, but sweet all the same. Honest.]
Love you.
[He rests his forehead against Takiji's, trying to catch his breath. Slowly, carefully, he unwinds Rashomon and pulls it back in so that Takiji can move again. That's as much as he can do for now, though.]
[Oh. He's being held. It's . . . nice. Even when he's very tired, which he is now, it's nice.]
You're welcome. [Fuck. He flushes a little. That's not the right response, he's almost positive.] That is, thank you. For suggesting it. I . . . like trying things. With you.
[Goddamnit. He's so bad at this. He glances sideways, uncertain.]
I should--I'm going to. Move, and get a washcloth. And some water for you. Is that okay?
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no subject
[Yes, more is okay. Please give him more. Takiji has a vivid picture of Akutagawa just doing this to him until he comes, of himself jerking against his bonds and staining Rashomon with white - and while he knows that he'd enjoy that, it isn't what he wants tonight.
He wants more of Akutagawa, and for that to happen, he has to be stretched out just a little more.]
no subject
[He can do this, though. He can see the rough outline of how good it will feel for Takiji a few minutes from now, and that's enough to sustain him as he eases the third finger in. Angling all three against the spot that makes Takiji so loud, he lets the pressure ease for a few moments before spreading his fingers and starting the rhythm up again.]
[He kisses Takiji's thigh again, all teeth.]
I love you.
no subject
[Takiji manages it between the moans that Akutagawa pulls out of him, between the hitches of breath every time his fingers spread out more. There's a little discomfort underneath all the pleasure, but it's so easy to ignore. Just the thought of how soon Akutagawa will be inside him would be enough to wash away the discomfort that comes with being stretched.]
Please - I don't know if I can last...
[He wants to come with Akutagawa inside him. He wants that badly enough to ask for it.]
no subject
[It's hard not to rush at this point, but he doesn't. He eases his fingers out, biting his lip at the way Takiji looks right now, spread out and spread open, so flushed and so obviously close. Akutagawa is greedy in how much he looks Takiji over, dark eyes raking over every inch of his body as he grabs for the condom blindly and rips it open with his teeth. Once it's on, he slicks himself up, stroking himself rough and arrhythmically--he's close himself, and there's no point tempting fate.]
[It's easy to line himself up, to brace himself against the mattress and Takiji's hip and kiss Takiji wherever he can reach, to glance up at him one last time just to make sure it's okay. Pressing inside, though, steady and slow and easy: that might be the easiest, most natural thing he's ever done.]
no subject
It's okay, it's very okay when Akutagawa finally presses inside him. There's still a little discomfort at taking something bigger than what's meant to be there, but - Akutagawa is meant to be there, in his own way. They're joined together physically like they are emotionally, and it makes Takiji's heart swell.
He wets his lips, to try to say something, and then realizes he doesn't have words to describe this moment. All he can manage is a request.]
Kiss me again?
no subject
[The request helps, though. Lost in what's new and strange, something as familiar and comforting as a kiss is easy. It feels right.]
[Akutagawa nods sharply, presses forward with one hand braced under Takiji's thigh, and kisses him. It's rough and messy and awfully needy. He can't make words, but he can say please, please, please just like this. The way he grinds his hips against Takiji a moment later, a small, searching movement, is a plea as well, but for something else--he wants to make Takiji feel good like that again.]
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It takes a moment or two of searching before Takiji cries out sharply - his whole body shakes, from the tips of his fingers and toes to where they're joined together. He's absolutely devastated in the best possible way.
Akutagawa's wish is granted.]
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[His fingers dig into the underside of Takiji's thigh, and he moves again. The same way, because he wants to hear that again. Maybe some other time he'll move more, but this is more than enough for him now, and if he moves like this he can make Takiji cry out like that. All he wants is to make Takiji feel good. This spot, this type of movement, this slow grinding rhythm, being held like this by all of Akutagawa, that's what Takiji wants. That's what Akutagawa will give him. He'd give Takiji anything.]
[It's hard to breathe steadily enough to keep kissing. He tries, though, biting at Takiji's lips before kissing him again, briefly but fiercely.]
no subject
Words are not as much a priority as air is, or as much as kissing is, and so Takiji can't say anything about the brink Akutagawa's pushing him towards. Maybe he knows already, from how hard and wet Takiji's cock is between the netting of Rashomon, from how his toes curl, from how utterly wrecked this feeling is making him.]
no subject
[It's so much. It's so overwhelming, but he wants more of it all the same. He wants to give Takiji more, always.]
Takiji, [he manages before he's going in for another kiss, his hand slipping between them to rub his thumb along the head of Takiji's cock. So wet--he groans against Takiji's mouth and does his best to move his hips and his hand in sync, to make Takiji feel so good he can't stand it.]
no subject
His mouth opens, but no sound comes out at all when he jerks upwards into Akutagawa's grip, and then again, and he's done. He spills white over Akutagawa's hand, over his stomach, over Rashomon.
If he were more aware of his surroundings, maybe he'd memorize the sight of white on Rashomon's red-and-black, but at the moment he can barely see in front of him, or remember his own name.]
no subject
[Takiji's wrecked. He's absolutely destroyed. Tied up and sweaty and breathless, wordless, coming. Takiji just came all over his own stomach and all over Rashomon, and Akutagawa is so mesmerized that all of a sudden this thing he's never done before becomes automatic. He knows what he wants, or some part of him does: to keep moving, to keep doing what he's been doing because it feels so good and so right, to let Takiji make him come.]
[He groans, shaking his head to get his hair out of his eyes. He needs to see. He needs to see what Takiji looks like as he's coming and just after, to look at him covered in come, dazed and exhausted and overstimulated. That's the most important thing, he thinks, reaching back to grip Takiji's thigh for stability again as he jerks his hips, his rhythm lost in desperation. That's the most important thing--so as much as he thinking looking at Takiji like this any longer might kill him, he doesn't close his eyes when he comes. Just shudders and bites his lip and loses himself in their closeness and Takiji's heat and how good he looks, how good he feels all over.]
no subject
This sight, he'll remember for the rest of his life. He would never put it into a painting, because his meager skills could never do this moment justice. He'll only keep the memory close to his heart.
After a moment, he leans up as much as he can to try to kiss Akutagawa, more gently than they had before. He murmurs, breathless:]
I love you.
[So much that he can't stand it.]
no subject
Love you.
[He rests his forehead against Takiji's, trying to catch his breath. Slowly, carefully, he unwinds Rashomon and pulls it back in so that Takiji can move again. That's as much as he can do for now, though.]
. . . You okay? Anything hurt?
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I'm okay. A little sore at most.
Thank you, for agreeing to try that.
[He knows it sounded weird, at best.]
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You're welcome. [Fuck. He flushes a little. That's not the right response, he's almost positive.] That is, thank you. For suggesting it. I . . . like trying things. With you.
[Goddamnit. He's so bad at this. He glances sideways, uncertain.]
I should--I'm going to. Move, and get a washcloth. And some water for you. Is that okay?
no subject
I love you.
[He doesn't think there's a wrong time to say that, with Akutagawa.]