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writetomyheart2015-04-06 05:32 am
orangegreenlove.livejournal.com) wrote in writetomyheart2015-04-06 05:32 am
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[Team Sonic] Beauty
Starting words from here!
“Love is you,” Hashimoto sang softly, his lips right against Totsuka’s ear. He moved his hips slowly, thrusting gently, drawing sweet moans out of Totsuka. Totsuka’s skin was soft under his hands, smoother than the silk sheets on Totsuka’s bed, soft and warm.
Hashimoto licked at Totsuka’s earlobe, then trailed his tongue up the outside of Totsuka’s ear. His hands never stopped wandering; it was almost as if his fingertips were mapping Totsuka’s body, caressing every inch of skin even though he knew the contours of Totsuka’s body by heart. Hashimoto had spent years learning everything about Totsuka’s body until he knew it better than his own, until he was intimately familiar with every dip, every curve, every jut of bone.
“Ryosuke.” Totsuka arched into Hashimoto’s touch, clenching tight around Hashimoto. Perhaps he couldn’t say “I love you” as openly as Hashimoto could, but the way he clung to Hashimoto, fingers digging into Hashimoto’s shoulders almost desperately, was just as clear. “Ryosuke.”
“I like when you say my name,” Hashimoto whispered, and when Totsuka shivered under him, he blew lightly on Totsuka’s ear - he knew all of Totsuka’s sweet spots, all of Totsuka’s little weaknesses. “Say my name again.”
“Ryosuke,” Totsuka whispered, happy to oblige since he wasn’t sure he could stop saying Hashimoto’s name in any case. His legs had been curled over Hashimoto’s thighs, but now he wrapped them around Hashimoto’s hips, holding on even closer.
The change in angle let Hashimoto fuck him just a tiny bit deeper, made the drag of Hashimoto’s dick against his prostate just a tiny bit more delicious. There was nothing Totsuka could do but hold on and moan Hashimoto’s name.
Drawing back just far enough to see Totsuka’s face clearly, Hashimoto was struck again by how beautiful Totsuka was. When Totsuka’s hair had been longer, Hashimoto had thought that the pretty black hair softened Totsuka’s face, made him prettier.
The short hair should have made Totsuka handsome instead of beautiful, but it didn’t work out that way at all. Instead all it did was draw attention to Totsuka’s cheekbones, his eyes, his jaw, his nose, to the beauty of every part of Totsuka’s face and the perfection of the whole. Without the wavy hair, there was nothing to distract the eye.
Hashimoto brushed his lips over Totsuka’s cheek, trailing kisses all over Totsuka’s face while he fucked Totsuka sweet and slow. It felt so good, the tight, hot squeeze of Totsuka’s body, the little gasps and moans he more felt than heard, the closeness of it all.
Most of the time their sex was fast and urgent, a few minutes stolen at work or on tour with post-concert adrenaline thrumming through their veins, a wall or a desk all they needed, so Hashimoto was glad for this chance to have Totsuka under him in a soft bed, to have as much time as he wanted to draw sweet little noises from Totsuka, to have all the time in the world to appreciate Totsuka’s beautiful body.
“Love is you,” Hashimoto sang softly, his lips right against Totsuka’s ear. He moved his hips slowly, thrusting gently, drawing sweet moans out of Totsuka. Totsuka’s skin was soft under his hands, smoother than the silk sheets on Totsuka’s bed, soft and warm.
Hashimoto licked at Totsuka’s earlobe, then trailed his tongue up the outside of Totsuka’s ear. His hands never stopped wandering; it was almost as if his fingertips were mapping Totsuka’s body, caressing every inch of skin even though he knew the contours of Totsuka’s body by heart. Hashimoto had spent years learning everything about Totsuka’s body until he knew it better than his own, until he was intimately familiar with every dip, every curve, every jut of bone.
“Ryosuke.” Totsuka arched into Hashimoto’s touch, clenching tight around Hashimoto. Perhaps he couldn’t say “I love you” as openly as Hashimoto could, but the way he clung to Hashimoto, fingers digging into Hashimoto’s shoulders almost desperately, was just as clear. “Ryosuke.”
“I like when you say my name,” Hashimoto whispered, and when Totsuka shivered under him, he blew lightly on Totsuka’s ear - he knew all of Totsuka’s sweet spots, all of Totsuka’s little weaknesses. “Say my name again.”
“Ryosuke,” Totsuka whispered, happy to oblige since he wasn’t sure he could stop saying Hashimoto’s name in any case. His legs had been curled over Hashimoto’s thighs, but now he wrapped them around Hashimoto’s hips, holding on even closer.
The change in angle let Hashimoto fuck him just a tiny bit deeper, made the drag of Hashimoto’s dick against his prostate just a tiny bit more delicious. There was nothing Totsuka could do but hold on and moan Hashimoto’s name.
Drawing back just far enough to see Totsuka’s face clearly, Hashimoto was struck again by how beautiful Totsuka was. When Totsuka’s hair had been longer, Hashimoto had thought that the pretty black hair softened Totsuka’s face, made him prettier.
The short hair should have made Totsuka handsome instead of beautiful, but it didn’t work out that way at all. Instead all it did was draw attention to Totsuka’s cheekbones, his eyes, his jaw, his nose, to the beauty of every part of Totsuka’s face and the perfection of the whole. Without the wavy hair, there was nothing to distract the eye.
Hashimoto brushed his lips over Totsuka’s cheek, trailing kisses all over Totsuka’s face while he fucked Totsuka sweet and slow. It felt so good, the tight, hot squeeze of Totsuka’s body, the little gasps and moans he more felt than heard, the closeness of it all.
Most of the time their sex was fast and urgent, a few minutes stolen at work or on tour with post-concert adrenaline thrumming through their veins, a wall or a desk all they needed, so Hashimoto was glad for this chance to have Totsuka under him in a soft bed, to have as much time as he wanted to draw sweet little noises from Totsuka, to have all the time in the world to appreciate Totsuka’s beautiful body.