(and this is exactly why mikey fears for his life more than anything in the world. why he needs baji like one needs to breathe air, to keep him anchored to the possibility of hope when he can't even remember the things that hurt him, or who he hurts. it's only after some light sheds into his eyes that he realizes what things he has done, and it's petrifying to know baji would sacrifice himself in a heartbeat for what he stands for, and worse yet, for the defect of the blonde under him.
the best part of living detached from the rest of the house is just how mikey can be a little more vocal than the average teenager hushing under sheets in complete fear of being caught. it allows him to gift baji with all his little noises, his pants and his swears whenever they're like this, and with how aroused he is, those feel like they're jumping out of his mouth, even more so when baji's taking his time. can't be that difficult to notice the effects of it on mikey, his eyebrows furrowed, and the volume pressing against baji.
pillow princess, yes, but he must retaliate a bit for all this teasing. pulling on baji's hair with no strength at all, only to guide him to tilt his head back, mikey's teeth sink against fair skin, biting and rolling his tongue against it as he descends... until he finds skin that baji can easily hide.
he knows mikey's awfully possessive, doesn't he? the mark he'll leave might remind him that.)
[If he could read minds, he'd have soothed those worries away. Nothing was going to happen to him, and nothing was going to happen to any of them, because they had each other. He would have bet a chunk of his soul on that. He'd never be quite apt enough to realize that betting yourself in piecemeal and parts is exactly how you get broken down before you can realize it. He's too tough to know he might also be naive.
Power of being the age they were.
Baji would drink in every little sound Mikey made, the breathy and the pitchy, the subdued and the wild. He especially liked when he jolted or shivered; Mikey being taken by surprise by his own pleasure was always such a god damn turn on.
He'd allow his little rebellion, hands in hair, the tipping of his head back, the teeth--]
Ah-! Hell. Brat.
[A curled smirk, eyes suddenly overbright. That little bit of dull electric on his skin felt great, though knowing it would most certainly bruise annoyed him. It annoyed him in just the right way.]
My turn...
[Freeing himself from Mikey's grasp, he'd abandon their close contact to sit up again, tugging Mikey's shirt up and over his head after all-- but leaving it there, above his head, Mikey's arms still tangled in it, and now lightly pinned by the fabric. Torso exposed, all pale and pretty, Baji would lower himself again and go to put his mouth between his collar bones, moving downward. A kiss to the crest of his neck; sucking a patch of skin lower down; flicking the tip of his pointiest tooth against a nipple; giving it a single, slow lap after that. Letting his hair fall and pool, leaving ticklish trails against his skin.
If allowed, he'd take his time painting kisses and little, inoffensive bites the whole way down his torso. He was typically fast, aggressive, impulsive; but he did love drawing this shit out, torturing each bundle of nerves, making Mikey impatient.]
(truly, the power of being the age they are. one day, they'll look back and mourn these naive thoughts they harbored. not that mikey knows, but future him is always so jaded, so exhausted - he'll remember these times with the fondest of hearts.
and being young impacts them here, on this bed, as well. hormones pump into mikey's veins so loud that all this slowness in baji's motions is going to drive him completely insane. pride is not going to have him demanding for baji to go for it, but speechless actions might say it just as much with how much he's sucking on the skin and biting it for good measure as if his life depended on it. good thing they're always in fights, because with the size of this hickey...)
I'm a brat? Look who's fucking talking.
(both are impossible. matches on gasoline, different situations, different manners, but ticking bombs all the same.
a noise of dissatisfaction, although it comes at a sigh for the promise of something coming out of it, and he isn't disappointed. naturally, it's not going to be a shirt that will keep him in place, but he chooses to give baji this view of him, arched back and willing. at this point, baji surely knows how damn sensitive mikey is, each part the other's lip touches makes his heart flutter, and his cock twitch, visible if baji pays attention.
the fangs, the tongue, the hair touching his chest and waist... the room becomes a small orchestra of gasps, and if it's a slow-tempo concert baji wants, mikey doesn't mind providing... on his terms, that is. his calloused hand moves inside his boxers, curling around himself, the strokes in complete harmony to baji's tongue against him... and hopefully, his sounds of pleasure find the other well.)
no subject
the best part of living detached from the rest of the house is just how mikey can be a little more vocal than the average teenager hushing under sheets in complete fear of being caught. it allows him to gift baji with all his little noises, his pants and his swears whenever they're like this, and with how aroused he is, those feel like they're jumping out of his mouth, even more so when baji's taking his time. can't be that difficult to notice the effects of it on mikey, his eyebrows furrowed, and the volume pressing against baji.
pillow princess, yes, but he must retaliate a bit for all this teasing. pulling on baji's hair with no strength at all, only to guide him to tilt his head back, mikey's teeth sink against fair skin, biting and rolling his tongue against it as he descends... until he finds skin that baji can easily hide.
he knows mikey's awfully possessive, doesn't he? the mark he'll leave might remind him that.)
no subject
Power of being the age they were.
Baji would drink in every little sound Mikey made, the breathy and the pitchy, the subdued and the wild. He especially liked when he jolted or shivered; Mikey being taken by surprise by his own pleasure was always such a god damn turn on.
He'd allow his little rebellion, hands in hair, the tipping of his head back, the teeth--]
Ah-! Hell. Brat.
[A curled smirk, eyes suddenly overbright. That little bit of dull electric on his skin felt great, though knowing it would most certainly bruise annoyed him. It annoyed him in just the right way.]
My turn...
[Freeing himself from Mikey's grasp, he'd abandon their close contact to sit up again, tugging Mikey's shirt up and over his head after all-- but leaving it there, above his head, Mikey's arms still tangled in it, and now lightly pinned by the fabric. Torso exposed, all pale and pretty, Baji would lower himself again and go to put his mouth between his collar bones, moving downward. A kiss to the crest of his neck; sucking a patch of skin lower down; flicking the tip of his pointiest tooth against a nipple; giving it a single, slow lap after that. Letting his hair fall and pool, leaving ticklish trails against his skin.
If allowed, he'd take his time painting kisses and little, inoffensive bites the whole way down his torso. He was typically fast, aggressive, impulsive; but he did love drawing this shit out, torturing each bundle of nerves, making Mikey impatient.]
no subject
and being young impacts them here, on this bed, as well. hormones pump into mikey's veins so loud that all this slowness in baji's motions is going to drive him completely insane. pride is not going to have him demanding for baji to go for it, but speechless actions might say it just as much with how much he's sucking on the skin and biting it for good measure as if his life depended on it. good thing they're always in fights, because with the size of this hickey...)
I'm a brat? Look who's fucking talking.
(both are impossible. matches on gasoline, different situations, different manners, but ticking bombs all the same.
a noise of dissatisfaction, although it comes at a sigh for the promise of something coming out of it, and he isn't disappointed. naturally, it's not going to be a shirt that will keep him in place, but he chooses to give baji this view of him, arched back and willing. at this point, baji surely knows how damn sensitive mikey is, each part the other's lip touches makes his heart flutter, and his cock twitch, visible if baji pays attention.
the fangs, the tongue, the hair touching his chest and waist... the room becomes a small orchestra of gasps, and if it's a slow-tempo concert baji wants, mikey doesn't mind providing... on his terms, that is. his calloused hand moves inside his boxers, curling around himself, the strokes in complete harmony to baji's tongue against him... and hopefully, his sounds of pleasure find the other well.)