(word, but still, HIS EAR IS SENSITIVE, BAJI. if the other cares to look, every hair on mikey's neck stands, thanks to the goosebumps that ran down his spine. it makes mikey move just a tad to face him, blond locks separating them from the rest of the room.
truth be told, mikey likes it better when it's baji on top of him. the darkness of his hair and the length makes it seem like there are only the two of them in the world, but this isn't half bad.)
Why, you planning on doing anything?
(that shit-eating grin. no hangover can take that away from him.)
...you know I'd be planning to flip you on your ass and roll us over if I didn't think you'd throw up on me.
[A grin, wide and playful. He had a little bit of a handover too, but it was only nudging on the periphery of his mind, making his eyes and ears hurt a little-- nothing too bad.]
But nah. I don't got plans.
[There were easier ways of saying 'please stay' or 'I want you here', Mikeeeeeey.]
I'm not going to throw up! Who do you think I am?!
(he'll just have a massive migraine, thank you very much? if they end up doing anything, it'll have to be something slow, so that mikey doesn't perish, but he wouldn't mind it like this. baji, pampering him, for extended periods of time?
but that would be easy. just as easy as telling baji to stay with him. could be more fun, but there's no shame in softness every once in a while. he won't say it, but there's a peck he gives the other's lips.)
[He just meant switching positions so Mikey wasn't suffocating him with his starfish stance, thank you very much. He was a small package that didn't like to be rustled and was heavier than he looked. But Baji wasn't feeling suicidal enough to say so.
Not when he's being so sweet and conciliatory, after all.
Another grin, and he'd go to bump their noses together.]
Then, I will. After all, I'm serving the key responsibility of being your body pillow right now, ain't I? Leaving would be a downright betrayal.
(BAJI HE'S JACKED BUT ALSO 56KG. don't bitch!!!!!!!)
You'd never betray me.
(not his oldest friend. he can't imagine that, not now, anyway. loyal to the bone is baji, and on a later date, he'll reinforce it. right now, however, it's revenge for making his hair raise, with teeth attacking the other's jaw in a nibble that he pulls, escaping from between them with a laugh.)
[56kg of pure terror heathen, tyvm. He's made of cake and vague threats of pain, with a cherry on top.]
Do you usually chew on your mattress--?
[Stupid question, he'd seen Mikey chew on a lot of things. But alas, fair leader, some people have pointer teeth than others~
He'd shift his hands strategically down his torso to rest on Mikey's middle-- in case he needed to tickle, of course-- and would tilt his head to nip at his ear again, faster and a little bit harder this time. Not enough to hurt, just enough to be obnoxious.]
Careful. You smell good. I might just keep biting.
(indeed baji has pointier canines, and that's exactly what hits mikey's ear once the other exacts his revenge - which is absolutely unfair, considering that mikey will die on the hill that baji's started it. nevermind the amount of drunken flirting before they've lulled to sleep.
the nibble comes with a noise that mikey suppresses, dead eyes squinting as he distances a little to look at the other.)
Do that one more time, and you're in trouble.
(says the whole whose head is going to murder him, but alas. nothing about the thread is serious, it's... flirting. he's flirting. knows baji wouldn't back down.)
(oh, baji. as if mikey didn't know he likes his kisses to taste like danger, like passion, like fire... and much like trouble. threats, empty as they are, still bring something to both of them, and of course, baji dares to push a limit and bite mikey either way. his chin doesn't bring much of a reaction as the previous nibbles have, nor as the same action to his neck would.
that grin, though. baji's little fangs are even more pronounced like this, and mikey himself has to leave the proximity, sitting on the other's lap to take the boy under him in. he's special, in every damn way, and there is no migraine in the world that stops him from admiring that... and nothing could stop the grip on baji's shirt, pulling and bringing him to sit up, so mikey can clash their lips in a proper kiss.
his hand always sinks into the sea of black strands, combing, scratching his scalp, taking in how soft it feels as his lips show exactly what kind of trouble baji put himself into. his fault, really.)
[It's always a careful dance, between pushing too hard and being soft. Between threat and comfort. It's a place they're both really themselves in; right on the edge, but hyper-aware enough not to go over it. They're both good at flirting in the danger zone without letting the other ever feel truly trapped or unsafe.
They're a good match. No arguing that. (Though sometime Baji's pretty sure Draken would like to.)
Baji's always liked the fact that Mikey has moments where he knows what he wants and he either demands it or takes it. It gets him going-- it's kind of a challenge in a way. So when he pulls, Mikey would find Baji already moving forward, shoulders shrugging up and grin melting away to meet his kiss, a little forcefully. It's cute, Mikey's hands in his shirt, tangled in his hair...
He'd shift to pull him forward with a sudden jolt, holding onto the small of his back to balance him on his lap and prying his lips apart with his tongue. If it was gonna be a proper good morning kiss, it was gonna be a proper good morning kiss.]
(if only baji knew. the eagerness, the fact that the other's already adding tongue, pulling mikey closer into his lap, all these just force the smaller one to wrap his legs around baji's waist. if only baji knew how these things make mikey's heart beat nearly out of his chest, his hips grinding against the other a little, a tiny squirm he didn't even notice he had done until a groan escapes his lips.
it's not difficult for baji to get mikey that way. he could get crazy aroused just looking at him, the little mania sparkling in his eye, the pointy teeth, the duality of the boy's life, all just so enticing to mikey as this. his tongue dances against baji's, a fight for dominance and a plead to lose to him all the same, the hand curled against the fabric dropping to his waist to bring him closer.
good morning, keisuke.)
Edited (just changed a thing or two for prettier reasons) 2022-09-04 06:31 (UTC)
[It's a dance he's used to by now, but he doesn't tire of it. It always revs him up, the way Mikey-- so strong outwardly-- challenges in that cute, almost petty way that demands not to be in control. To have room to breathe for once, to not think, to just roll with a tide stronger than himself...
Baji isn't stronger than him, of course. Bigger, yes. Mentally on more solid footing? Sure, maybe. But no one's stronger than Mikey-- no one's weaker, either.
As promised, as soon as Mikey has spider-monkey'd around him, in one swift fluid motion, Baji changes their positions. He flips Mikey so the slimmer boy is beneath him, their hips pressed tightly together, one hand supporting the small of his back, the other planted firmly into the mattress by his face, all without breaking the kiss. He'd chase his tongue, pull at his lower lip...
And pull back just enough to look him in the eye, nose-to-nose, checking in:]
You good-?
[If his head hurt too much for this, he didn't want to push it.]
(at least here. let it be a place mikey can rest, where he doesn't have to fight, where it's alright to be vulnerable, as little as he's capable of. not showing weakness has downfalls, all the bottling up and the shoving of his feelings into the back of his mind takes a toll on his mental health. his memory takes so many hits, inconsistent and feeble, and his blackouts, some of which baji has seen himself, are now more frequent than they had been. the unapologetic violence and destruction until mikey's back into his own consciousness.
and yet, baji still presses kisses upon him, still wraps his arms around mikey's slender and holds him like he's the most precious thing to have walked upon this earth. one day, mikey might destroy him too, like he easily would anything he cares about too much for. he fears for that day, so until then, he'll cherish every breath baji takes near him, every word and every touch he's willing to give him.
there's no resistance from mikey in any way, not in the way he allows baji to dictate the pace of their waltzing tongues, nor with how he flips them. it's exactly as he likes it, baji's long hair hiding them from the world, and all mikey can see is the other if he chooses to open his eyes. the heel of his foot presses against the small of baji's back, and while the shift did give him a pang of pain on his temple, it's nothing he won't fight if that means more contact. watch, the heels of his linked feet even press a little more, pure incentive while he lifts his head to give access to his neck.)
[Yeah, Baji knows it all; Mikey is so constantly and consistently inviolable, that it chips away at him. He does it for them all, the people he loves; he doesn't love himself enough. Sometimes, in brief, blank moment, he forgets he loves anyone else-- he's an egoist, but he also isn't confident enough. He wants to be the pinnacle; he wants to be torn down. He's made of steel; he's soft and malleable. He's a constant puzzle of contradictions. It's frustrating. Baji wants, sometimes, to beat him into the shape Mikey wants to be rather than the shape he's decided he has to be.
That makes Baji a hypocrite.
But none of that really matters right now. They understand it all, implicitly. Here, in this safe space, both sleepy and riled up, he can give Mikey something he actually wants. In the act, Mikey can be whatever version of himself he needs to be; he can claw and bite, or he can purr and doze, it doesn't matter. Either way, he's going to sink into it so hard, he won't have to worry about being himself for a bit.]
If you say so...
[He won't argue. Instead, after giving a last warning nip to his throat, he'd chase Mikey's mouth again, giving him a bruising, crushing kiss, and because Mikey is a thing of contrasts, he'd slip a hand up into his hair at the same time, cradling his neck then the back of his head softly, tangling into those light strands gently.
The hand at the small of his back would flirt with the hem of his nightshirt, teasing it up to reveal a few inches of flesh, a thumb sweeping briefly up the small of his spine as he'd roll his hips down into Mikey's. Baji liked to press on every nerve ending all at once, to not give Mikey a clear idea how he should counter, to smother him against the sheets.]
(the strongest man is also the weakest one. mikey recognizes it - winning fights is a small feat before the mere idea of winning against yourself, and often, mikey finds himself on the losing side. a straight face and empty eyes, the occasional smile, masks he wears to keep everyone's feet on the most stable, pristine ground, and slowly the darkness eats away at whatever sanity he has left. one day, those he fights for the most will be gone, and he'll be left with a hole in his heart where they all should be, and he doesn't know how deep his illness will deteriorate his morality or his values. right now, giving up fighting it isn't on the table, nor is ignoring it - he can use it to become stronger. to honor those around him without pesky guilt eating at his every cell.
and he wonders, will baji still want him? will he still kiss him with the same ferocity and hunger as he is now, if he ever gave up and let the darkness take him whole? one day, when he feels like vulnerability isn't so bad, he might ask, but that day is unlikely to come. baji's a man of action, either way. what good would that conversation bring them?
smothering thoughts, his eyes close harder to feel every little patch of skin baji's sharing with him, his lips unable to hold the noise that escapes his lips at the neck kiss, nor can he hold a louder one when baji's hips roll against his, and with his fingers so dedicated into feeling his back, he can't help it but arch it further. baji's got him in a mood, and while mikey isn't sure which it is, he knows that the boy's shirt doesn't belong on his body right now, so off it goes tossed somewhere he doesn't care to check. fingerprints run against the his shoulders, feeling every curve as if he was memorizing them, or perhaps just making them more vivid in a memory he can't erase.)
[They were a good fit, really. If Mikey could ever bear to think about Kazutora, he'd see just how well his own pieces fit a not dissimilar mold. Baji hadn't let a single friend get swallowed up by dark yet, and he had no intentions of starting any time soon, much less with someone as precious as the person beneath him. Whatever edge there was, whatever criminally depraved action, it didn't matter. You could always be saved.
Maybe that was his own contradiction, one that worked well in its tango with Mikey's: that for all Baji was a hardass, for all he had a temper, for all he'd beat the bones flat in anyone's body for even looking at him and his sideways, he was also at his core incredibly soft. He believed in noble ideals; that there was nothing more important than grabbing the hands of the people you loved and tugging them away from the maw of their own self-destruction, even if you got burned in the process. He'd never give up on that chase.
Never.
Trailing from his mouth again, he'd lick a wet stripe down to his ear; the thing that had started all of this; where he'd brush teeth against the lobe and then gently tug. His palm would support the small of Mikey's back, keeping him curved up and into him, even as he went to crush the space between them by lowering himself by his bent elbow. Fuck the shirt-- the shirt could stay for all he cared. It was hot to see him rumpled, half-dressed.
The boxers, on the other hand, those would have to go. He'd arch a finger underneath Mikey's waistband, snapping it softly to sting his skin, before he'd start to slide it off of a hip. The sounds Mikey made were always delicious; he'd give a soft moan of his own out of appreciation for those strong hands on his shoulders, for the careless way the boy had undressed him.]
(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.)
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His mother is scary, okay?]
Depends, you even plan on letting me sit up in the next half hour, or are you just gonna starfish all over me and whine if I so much as twitch?
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truth be told, mikey likes it better when it's baji on top of him. the darkness of his hair and the length makes it seem like there are only the two of them in the world, but this isn't half bad.)
Why, you planning on doing anything?
(that shit-eating grin. no hangover can take that away from him.)
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[A grin, wide and playful. He had a little bit of a handover too, but it was only nudging on the periphery of his mind, making his eyes and ears hurt a little-- nothing too bad.]
But nah. I don't got plans.
[There were easier ways of saying 'please stay' or 'I want you here', Mikeeeeeey.]
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(he'll just have a massive migraine, thank you very much? if they end up doing anything, it'll have to be something slow, so that mikey doesn't perish, but he wouldn't mind it like this. baji, pampering him, for extended periods of time?
but that would be easy. just as easy as telling baji to stay with him. could be more fun, but there's no shame in softness every once in a while. he won't say it, but there's a peck he gives the other's lips.)
... Then stay.
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Not when he's being so sweet and conciliatory, after all.
Another grin, and he'd go to bump their noses together.]
Then, I will. After all, I'm serving the key responsibility of being your body pillow right now, ain't I? Leaving would be a downright betrayal.
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You'd never betray me.
(not his oldest friend. he can't imagine that, not now, anyway. loyal to the bone is baji, and on a later date, he'll reinforce it. right now, however, it's revenge for making his hair raise, with teeth attacking the other's jaw in a nibble that he pulls, escaping from between them with a laugh.)
You're a good mattress, anyway.
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Do you usually chew on your mattress--?
[Stupid question, he'd seen Mikey chew on a lot of things. But alas, fair leader, some people have pointer teeth than others~
He'd shift his hands strategically down his torso to rest on Mikey's middle-- in case he needed to tickle, of course-- and would tilt his head to nip at his ear again, faster and a little bit harder this time. Not enough to hurt, just enough to be obnoxious.]
Careful. You smell good. I might just keep biting.
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(indeed baji has pointier canines, and that's exactly what hits mikey's ear once the other exacts his revenge - which is absolutely unfair, considering that mikey will die on the hill that baji's started it. nevermind the amount of drunken flirting before they've lulled to sleep.
the nibble comes with a noise that mikey suppresses, dead eyes squinting as he distances a little to look at the other.)
Do that one more time, and you're in trouble.
(says the whole whose head is going to murder him, but alas. nothing about the thread is serious, it's... flirting. he's flirting. knows baji wouldn't back down.)
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[That was irresistible. He'd have chased it even if the idea of trouble wasn't on the menu, but once presented?
He'd sit up a little, smirk skulking wider over his face.]
What kind of trouble?
[Arching a brow and with an impish expression, he'd duck down quickly to nip at Mikey's chin instead, before sing-songing,]
Doesn't count~ ear only.
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that grin, though. baji's little fangs are even more pronounced like this, and mikey himself has to leave the proximity, sitting on the other's lap to take the boy under him in. he's special, in every damn way, and there is no migraine in the world that stops him from admiring that... and nothing could stop the grip on baji's shirt, pulling and bringing him to sit up, so mikey can clash their lips in a proper kiss.
his hand always sinks into the sea of black strands, combing, scratching his scalp, taking in how soft it feels as his lips show exactly what kind of trouble baji put himself into. his fault, really.)
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They're a good match. No arguing that. (Though sometime Baji's pretty sure Draken would like to.)
Baji's always liked the fact that Mikey has moments where he knows what he wants and he either demands it or takes it. It gets him going-- it's kind of a challenge in a way. So when he pulls, Mikey would find Baji already moving forward, shoulders shrugging up and grin melting away to meet his kiss, a little forcefully. It's cute, Mikey's hands in his shirt, tangled in his hair...
He'd shift to pull him forward with a sudden jolt, holding onto the small of his back to balance him on his lap and prying his lips apart with his tongue. If it was gonna be a proper good morning kiss, it was gonna be a proper good morning kiss.]
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it's not difficult for baji to get mikey that way. he could get crazy aroused just looking at him, the little mania sparkling in his eye, the pointy teeth, the duality of the boy's life, all just so enticing to mikey as this. his tongue dances against baji's, a fight for dominance and a plead to lose to him all the same, the hand curled against the fabric dropping to his waist to bring him closer.
good morning, keisuke.)
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Baji isn't stronger than him, of course. Bigger, yes. Mentally on more solid footing? Sure, maybe. But no one's stronger than Mikey-- no one's weaker, either.
As promised, as soon as Mikey has spider-monkey'd around him, in one swift fluid motion, Baji changes their positions. He flips Mikey so the slimmer boy is beneath him, their hips pressed tightly together, one hand supporting the small of his back, the other planted firmly into the mattress by his face, all without breaking the kiss. He'd chase his tongue, pull at his lower lip...
And pull back just enough to look him in the eye, nose-to-nose, checking in:]
You good-?
[If his head hurt too much for this, he didn't want to push it.]
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and yet, baji still presses kisses upon him, still wraps his arms around mikey's slender and holds him like he's the most precious thing to have walked upon this earth. one day, mikey might destroy him too, like he easily would anything he cares about too much for. he fears for that day, so until then, he'll cherish every breath baji takes near him, every word and every touch he's willing to give him.
there's no resistance from mikey in any way, not in the way he allows baji to dictate the pace of their waltzing tongues, nor with how he flips them. it's exactly as he likes it, baji's long hair hiding them from the world, and all mikey can see is the other if he chooses to open his eyes. the heel of his foot presses against the small of baji's back, and while the shift did give him a pang of pain on his temple, it's nothing he won't fight if that means more contact. watch, the heels of his linked feet even press a little more, pure incentive while he lifts his head to give access to his neck.)
I'm fine, Baji. Don't worry.
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That makes Baji a hypocrite.
But none of that really matters right now. They understand it all, implicitly. Here, in this safe space, both sleepy and riled up, he can give Mikey something he actually wants. In the act, Mikey can be whatever version of himself he needs to be; he can claw and bite, or he can purr and doze, it doesn't matter. Either way, he's going to sink into it so hard, he won't have to worry about being himself for a bit.]
If you say so...
[He won't argue. Instead, after giving a last warning nip to his throat, he'd chase Mikey's mouth again, giving him a bruising, crushing kiss, and because Mikey is a thing of contrasts, he'd slip a hand up into his hair at the same time, cradling his neck then the back of his head softly, tangling into those light strands gently.
The hand at the small of his back would flirt with the hem of his nightshirt, teasing it up to reveal a few inches of flesh, a thumb sweeping briefly up the small of his spine as he'd roll his hips down into Mikey's. Baji liked to press on every nerve ending all at once, to not give Mikey a clear idea how he should counter, to smother him against the sheets.]
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and he wonders, will baji still want him? will he still kiss him with the same ferocity and hunger as he is now, if he ever gave up and let the darkness take him whole? one day, when he feels like vulnerability isn't so bad, he might ask, but that day is unlikely to come. baji's a man of action, either way. what good would that conversation bring them?
smothering thoughts, his eyes close harder to feel every little patch of skin baji's sharing with him, his lips unable to hold the noise that escapes his lips at the neck kiss, nor can he hold a louder one when baji's hips roll against his, and with his fingers so dedicated into feeling his back, he can't help it but arch it further. baji's got him in a mood, and while mikey isn't sure which it is, he knows that the boy's shirt doesn't belong on his body right now, so off it goes tossed somewhere he doesn't care to check. fingerprints run against the his shoulders, feeling every curve as if he was memorizing them, or perhaps just making them more vivid in a memory he can't erase.)
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Maybe that was his own contradiction, one that worked well in its tango with Mikey's: that for all Baji was a hardass, for all he had a temper, for all he'd beat the bones flat in anyone's body for even looking at him and his sideways, he was also at his core incredibly soft. He believed in noble ideals; that there was nothing more important than grabbing the hands of the people you loved and tugging them away from the maw of their own self-destruction, even if you got burned in the process. He'd never give up on that chase.
Never.
Trailing from his mouth again, he'd lick a wet stripe down to his ear; the thing that had started all of this; where he'd brush teeth against the lobe and then gently tug. His palm would support the small of Mikey's back, keeping him curved up and into him, even as he went to crush the space between them by lowering himself by his bent elbow. Fuck the shirt-- the shirt could stay for all he cared. It was hot to see him rumpled, half-dressed.
The boxers, on the other hand, those would have to go. He'd arch a finger underneath Mikey's waistband, snapping it softly to sting his skin, before he'd start to slide it off of a hip. The sounds Mikey made were always delicious; he'd give a soft moan of his own out of appreciation for those strong hands on his shoulders, for the careless way the boy had undressed him.]
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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.)
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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.)