Fornication

AN// Do I need to be shot for loving this pairing?

Comment upon it. (This can also be translated as ‘leave a review, pretty please’)

If you want, just don’t believe in the hints and the one time the seme in this pairing has his name spoken, and replace them with your character of choice.

Such as Renji, or Byakuya, or even Isshin.

-bricked-

---

Ryuken hadn’t been able to sleep for days after their first encounter. It had come as a shock to him, of course, but it was so devastatingly erotic that it had made him hard at the mere thought of the tongue in his mouth, the gently commanding hands over his skin, the hardened flesh filling him and manipulating him… He shuddered, hands releasing his trapped erection and beginning to stroke it, making him whine softly.

“O-oh…”

”You look… just like him.”

“Usually they say I-“

He remembered the seal of lips, the tongue, the slow, passionate rocking of their hips as they stood in his kitchen, the elder of the two interrupted in his sandwich making by this Shinigami.

Then, there was the commanding hands that carried him to his expensive sofa, pushing him backwards and kissing his stomach, warm and moist mouth moving over half-defined abs, tongue rolling over his navel, and then slipping lower, tantalizingly slowly removing his pants…

Ryuken let out another moan, arching his hips into his hand, the fingers moving faster.

“Nnn… I-I… ‘m coming…” He murmured into thin air, panting and gasping as he remembered that organ fucking him raw on the expensive leather, filling him to the extent he felt like he was going to explode--

He muffled his cry of release with his hand, modest despite being alone within the house. His son had moved away at the first chance he got, studying medicine abroad.

He hadn’t realized how lonely it was without him in this large house.

But perhaps… he’d found a way to cure this loneliness, the echoes in his house only being his own rather than shared with the son he’d held so close to his heart. Perhaps, there was hope for him yet.


--


They’d lost count of the times they’d made love over the past few months, but each time was so mindblowingly intense that it wouldn’t have been a wonder if it’d only happened a few times.

The Quincy had learned to accommodate to his younger lover’s (increasingly more bold) actions, stretching out his legs before the Shinigami would appear in his doorway, ready for the rough night ahead of him.

No matter how long they had slept together, the Quincy would never allow the wild-haired student to see his face as they made love on his sheets, making the bedsprings creak with their uncontrollable passion.

Ryuken would never let him see how affected he truly was by their lovemaking, or how much passion he indulged towards their fornication.

He muffled his moan into the bed sheets, pushing his hips up into the wonderful sensations the orange-haired Shinigami invoked upon his entrance, the joint sensations of tongue and long, lithe fingers inside of him becoming all too much for him.

“I-I… coming…” He groaned, his back bowing elegantly as he released over the sheets, hearing (amongst the roaring of blood in his ears) a satisfactory spattering of translucent liquid over the fabric. He felt the fingers stretching him wider, and the pain made him jerk, already beginning to harden again at the sensations that never stopped.

“S-s…s-top…” Ryuken looked back at the figure behind him, a silhouette against the dim light seeping from around the door, only able to see the unruly mop of hair, but that was enough for him. Seeing the Shinigami’s face so smug wasn’t on his list of things to do. “I won’t… won’t be able to…”

“You don’t have work. I checked.”

’That bastard.’

Ryuken writhed on the sheets, his hands gripping tighter to the pillow as he was played with, shuddering gently as he spread his thighs wider, the feeling of the younger man’s cock pressing against his tender, sensitive flesh being too much for him as it was. In the aftermath of orgasm, it felt so much better, and it shouldn’t have.

Finally, the wet feeling vacated his entrance, and he dared another looked back at his younger lover, panting gently. Although, something seemed to have interested him, and his head remained ducked between his wide-spread thighs.

“Goosebumps… Do you like it that much?”

Ryuken groaned low in his throat, swallowing to moisten his dry mouth, although it didn’t seem to be working that well. The bastard knew what it made him feel.

“Oi… I’m talking to you.” His lover murmured, his tongue running over the goosebumps on Ryuken’s thighs, making him cry out in surprise and arousal, hardly expecting the wet, warm touch. “Speak back. If I’m ignored… maybe I can just go?” The bedsprings creaked as the weight of the man behind him shifted away.

Immediately, the Quincy latched to his waist, his eyes almost dangerous.

“Don’t you dare.” He growled, pulling him back on the bed and sitting on his waist, hands splayed over the muscled chest, not as broad as it could have been but enough to suit his tastes. “This is my home… I will tell you when you can leave.”

“What a way to treat your guests.” The sarcasm was ladled on thick, and Ryuken felt the urge to beat the younger man until he saw that Ishidas were not to be treated with such sarcasm.

“Shut up.” The Quincy snarled, digging his nails into the chest he splayed his hands upon. “I’ll treat my guests the way I like.”

“And I guess I pretty much live here, don’t I? Don’t I count as a ‘housemate’, at least?”

Ryuken’s eyes steeled at those words, and his lover took the opportunity to knock him sideways onto the bed, and he could see the hazel eyes boring down on him, and the self-satisfied smirk on his face.

“Y-you… no!” He felt himself being pulled up, flipped onto his stomach facing the organ that he so desperately needed inside him.

“Get it nice and wet for me. I forgot my lube in my bag.”

The last time that he’d gone downstairs to get his bag, he’d never come back up again. The Quincy couldn’t have that. Swallowing his pride, his tongue bathed the length in saliva, making sure it was completely covered before glaring upward at his satisfied lover, who rolled him onto his back.

As he lined himself up, Ryuken gasped, using his feet to push him backwards.

“Ichigo, you know I-“

“I know. But I want to try new things.” Beating way Ryuken’s feet, he moved between his thighs, holding them apart. “I don’t see why you’re so against it. I hear it feels better…”

Before Ryuken could object against him once more, he’d pushed himself in to the hilt, eliciting a cry from the Quincy, of pain and ecstasy blended together in such an erotic manner that he had to tilt his head back, not used to the pillow behind his head.

As his lover began to move, he let out a low groan, his expression changing dramatically to one that demonstrated his complete and utter loss in the overwhelming pleasures of being filled in a way he’d never yet experienced.

“See?” He heard the words being purred into his ear, and he let out a long moan, almost cutting off his lover’s next words. “I told you so, Quincy.”

The coarseness of his voice as he spoke was enough to drive Ryuken over the edge, but he curled his toes and bit his lip, wrapping his legs around his lover’s waist, drawing him in yet deeper, shifting him ever-so-slightly to rub against that spot.

He wrapped his hand around the base of his cock, unwilling to come so early. It had been a few weeks ago that this had turned into a contest of how could hold out the longest, his student lover having had built up such stamina from previous, nameless encounters, and wanting to test Ryuken against it.

He groaned again, one arm flying around the muscle-thickened neck and gripping tightly as his lover rocked his hips slowly, tantalizingly so, making his whole body tremble in anticipation of his release. His hand, however, was frozen in place by his stubborn Quincy pride – he refused to simply give up for the sake of his pleasure.

“It’s amazing that you haven’t moved your hand. You can come, you know.” He heard his lover murmur, his eyes screwed too tightly shut to look at him. “I’ll just keep on going…” His thrusts roughened ever-so-slightly, causing Ryuken to gasp and writhe. “Until I’m done.” The thought seemed like it had been thrown at him from some higher deity – that is, of course, until he realized (through the sex, and the lust, and the other emotions that tended to make their way out of the cage he’d placed them in) that this was infact his lover talking, and seeing as he was the elder of the two, he was the higher in power—

His lover was rubbing teasingly against him, making him crave the release he so desperately wanted, needed… He didn’t have much more time to pursue his train of thought as it overwhelmed him.

The roughening pace, the smell of sex in the air around them, the sheer heat, was driving him insane, making him need to grip onto the Shinigami tighter – and hence, he released his arousal, release spattering over their stomachs and chests, and he could feel his lover’s smug face in his neck as his pace continued on leisurely, the roughness something they had both become fond of.

It seemed to go on for hours, his pleasure-riddled body being so overloaded with senses that he felt as if he may just pass out, but the feeling of his lover’s release within him woke him up in a sense, and he basked in the warmth for a minute, holding the younger man close to his chest before falling back into unconsciousness, dreading what he’d feel like in the morning.

As per usual, his lover had gone, leaving only a teasing note on his steamed up bathroom mirror:

’I stole your shaving cream. Sorry.’

Ryuken sighed, almost fondly (almost), and stashed the note inside the cabinet, where it was met with a pile of other notes, left on previous occasions.

And, as always, got dressed, and sat down at his computer with a cup of coffee, ignoring the many texts that the younger man sent to him throughout the day, and pondered over which of his many lovers, two in immidiate mind, was better in bed.

With a sigh, he deemed that the boy would never be as good as his father, and continued with his work.

--


AN// No, it wasn't meant to make sense. So there.

Review, I remind you, pretty please?