⛧ Aʟʟᴇɴ "ɴᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴘʀɪᴇsᴛ" Wᴀʟᴋᴇʀ ★ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
likethelight) wrote2019-03-03 09:43 pm
likethelight) wrote2019-03-03 09:43 pm
IC Contact @ Deer Country
< An.Exorcist > Aʟʟᴇɴ Wᴀʟᴋᴇʀ
Text | Video | Voice | Action
( CODED BY BOOTYCALL )
( CODED BY BOOTYCALL )
( CODED BY BOOTYCALL )
no subject
Mm. Only if it's with you.
The request is the only thing that gets him to hesitate, blinking for a moment in some surprise and flushing a tiny bit. At his pace maybe, sure, but...
As an answer after a moment's pause, his legs thread with and lock around Shouto's, hips twisting as despite his frame and position he quickly rolls them over in a smooth, practiced motion. He's always had a bit of a grappler fighting style after all, but his expression is gentle and serious as he holds himself up above them. White hair, long and softly tousled, hanging around them as he hovers over him, weight held lightly on his hands with one knee brushing along the inside of Shouto's thigh. Studying him quietly, with a gentle expression, but... uncertain now too. A little fidgety. Like only now does he actually feel a little naked.
He leans down though, to press a kiss to the center of his chest so sweetly. Holding it for a long moment like he means to convey something with it, before he skims up. Ghosting a his lips along the underside of his jaw before he breathes a soft request against Shouto's ear too. ]
Sit up with me? [ Like before, so he can sit in your lap. ]
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Allen holds still, and Shouto mirrors him, heart pounding steadily in his chest with nerves. He's caught in the moment. Eyes locked on Allen. Waiting for permission. For what? He's not sure, only that he'll know when he sees it. He's running on instincts now, logic having left him the moment they both decided on this brought. He catches the gentle look. The way he fidgets like he's not sure either. What's wrong? He wants to ask, the all too familiar question on the tip of his tongue before threads of white slide against his bare skin.
Shouto swallows thickly, stomach clenching at the open kiss. An invitation? He keeps his eyes locked on Allen, waiting for some indication of what he wants. Holds back the instinct to touch his cheek to see this through. When it comes in the form of a question, he's quick to act, immediately sitting up to meet him, finding his mouth with his without permission. He should have waited, he knows, and breaks the kiss a moment after, drawing back enough to give him room. Still, he keeps steady eyes on him, feeling no need to apologize for his lapse of judgment. ]
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A little surprised at first when Shouto quickly surges up to meet him, it melts immediately along with his uncertainty as he wraps his arms around his neck and responds to the kiss in kind. He blinks when he draws back so quickly though, almost tumbling a little after him from being overbalanced, and meets his gaze with a soft yet steady questioning look of his own. Were you waiting on something from him...?
You still are, aren't you.
Allen's the one to close the gap this time. With a soft, surprised puff of realization before he slants his mouth against Shouto's in a renewed and heated kiss. Pressing their chests together again and letting his weight rest against him until they're flush enough to feel each other's heartbeats, relaxing back into what's been quickly become one of his favorite positions to be in. His legs tighten around him, squeezing his hips appreciatively as they take their time in exploring each other's mouths under a new paradigm. Breathy sounds and the soft yet daring sweep of a tongue, the nibble on a lip, the brief break for air that's an excuse to suck on an earlobe; coaxing each other's nerves down while stoking the internal fire. It's what lets Allen feel comfortable enough to be bold, to let his nerves go and go with instinct instead. Being able to be this comfortable with you...
... I'm so grateful.
He catches his eye because of that when next they separate a scant breath apart to breathe, gentle and a little hazy, before he rocks his hips against him. Experimentally, but quite purposefully. ]
no subject
They break away and Shouto follows his lips, letting him breathe, while he tastes the corner of his mouth. Feeling every breath. Every touch. He sweeps an arm around his back, dragging him closer to bury his nose into his collar, breathing in his scent. His mouth finds his neck, tasting the salt on his skin. He almost forgets this isn't a solo act.
Allen sucks on his earlobe, and Shouto groans softly, breaking contact. Goosebumps run down his neck, and he shifts beneath him. Restless in a way he's never known. It's hard to stay still. When he pulls back, they lock eyes, and he gazes into a sea of stars. Transfixed by the sight, looking half-dazed, teal sparkles like the open sea and grey melts with an inferno fixed on him. ]
We'll go at your pace.
[ He whispers next to ear, voice rough from keeping himself still. It's all he manages before Allen rocks into him drawing a short sharp puff of air that escapes his lungs. Heat hits his collar as he trembles beneath him forcing himself still. ]
Can I--
[ He tightens his arms against Allen's hips, encouraging him to do that again, wanting him to do that again, desperately. It's in his tone. The way he can't stop moving under him. The barely cognizant question he manages to bite out. ]
Can I movetoo?
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Allen whines softly, from how good it feels to move against him like that but also from seeing him affected so, swallowing the sound up before it can get far and burying his head into Shouto's neck as his body trembles lightly too. That sort of request... ]
Please. [ He says it with a soft gasp, following the pull of the hands on his hips and rolling into Shouto again to emphasize his point. Grinding harder against him this time in a way that's as threadbare and yearning as his tone, and Allen's fingers dig into his hair and hold the back of his neck like a lifeline. Don't let it just be me.
I need you by my side for something like this. ]
Please move too.
no subject
Alle--Allen. I want to--
[ The friction is intoxicating. ]
I wantokissyou.
[ A plea, pure and simple, and if he were in his right mind, he'd wait for him to offer, but Shouto is past the point of no return and sears their mouths together. ]
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This is...
With an arm wrapped around his shoulders he answers that request with a soft moan that gets lost in the kiss, tipping Shouto's head back further to deepen the kiss and drown further in him. More forcefully than he usually is but still gentle, locking their mouths together in a dance that mimics the motion of their bodies and quickly steals the breath of him. He tries to steal Shouto's too.
It's so good but also so uncomfortable with such restrictive clothing like his, but somehow that barely matters. Only registering as I should probably do something about that and immediately becoming unimportant. ]
S-Shouto... I-- [ He struggles to suck in a breath as much as reign himself in enough to keep their pace steady, and sucks again on Shouto's earlobe, hard but not painfully so, like it's somehow the answer to that. He follows it up by peppering a line of small, hot kisses that nip and suck at his throat, distracted by trying to also concentrate on continuing to move against him. You're still okay, right? It isn't too much? ]
I want-- [ His breath hitches softly by his ear, some thrill by how he'd just pressed against him sending shocks through the base of his spine, and he whispers the fervid request against his lips. ]
I want to touch more of you too.
[ It's gone, that last inhibition. ]
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A beautiful plea. One that hits him like a punch to the gut, and he's suddenly overwhelmed by the purest affection for him, and instead of devolving into a heated mess, desperately reaching for the ice to temper his feelings, he lets himself drown in them. ]
Allen. [ He grips his shoulders hard enough to bruise. He can't breathe. ] Touche me.
[ Sharing breaths lips centimeters apart, Shouto embraces him in his arms growing hot underneath him. His hands are everywhere, skimming down his sides, over his hips, and keep going, lifting him just enough to slide him forward without breaking the rhythm they've found together. ]
Please... touch me..
[ He pleads as flickers of fire roar to life across the left side of his hair, sending it into disarray while frost creeps up his roots covering the white strands in spikes of ice. ]
no subject
He's sitting in his laps so his thighs are planted firmly to the sides of his hips. Squeezing the sides of him encouragingly as they carve out an instinctive rhythm that has Allen gasping breathlessly against him. And that's also why his sensibilities have frayed to virtually nothing.
But not entirely gone. While he stutters and groans, nearly falling forward ragdoll against him when he grinds against him particularly forcefully and is emotionally razed by the tone of his request, the hands all over him -- he also focuses unsteadily on the the bloom of fire and ice through his hair. The way the heat of him spikes again in his arms, and Allen's body responds with a light sweat that makes their skin glide more smoothly together where they're pressed flush and makes it feel somehow even better than the friction.
But it's also why Allen, staring breathlessly at him for a moment like he's the most beautiful creature he's ever seen, then abruptly pushes him down by the shoulders. There's a small thmp on the mattress.
And there's Allen, utterly out of breath and a little wrecked, but smiling down at him so serenely. ]
Shouto-- [ He hovers fully above him now, breathing heavily still but with clearer eyes. Desire, adoration, concern... full of a beautiful love that tempers desire as Allen cradles Shouto's face like the most precious fragment of a soul, and leans down to kiss him so very softly on the cheek. ]
Breathe.
[ He kisses him again, following along the right side of his face as he presses his lips tenderly and he hopes soothingly against temple, brow, and eye once he's close it. Left hand trying to comb gently through the ice in his hair, impervious to the cold of it.
It broke their rhythm to change position, staying pressed together as Allen still sits more directly atop Shouto now, but he keeps his hips locked and doesn't rock against him anymore. Though if there was any doubt of the effect Shouto had on him and their ability to work themselves up... the proof is in the very solid press of both of their clothed erections together. The knowledge of that alone is enough to light his brain on fire, desperation to please keep doing that making Allen feel like he's boiling too and going mad, but he's more desperate to hold himself in check. He recognizes it, after all. From the time before when frost and fire wove through his hair.
I want to touch you. I will, but-- ]
Kiss me with your fire and ice again first. [ A gentle request, a lover's whisper, as he nibbles softly at that favored corner of his mouth. ] Before you spill over.
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You're going to burn down the house! He seems to say in the look he throws Allen that's quickly lost in the sensation of his fingers combing through his hair. It's such a foreign feeling, being touched so gently when he's covered in fire and ice like this. He groans and red starts melting through the ice. Only then, when he desperately needs to feel him that he notices his absence. ]
Don't stop.
[ He whines and things start to quickly devolve from there. He makes a desperate little roll of his hips, drowning in all the sensations he has no reference for. It brings his fire back to life and starts melting through the ice forcing him to send out a thicker layer. ]
Allen.
[ He says his name desperately. No longer pretending he can handle this. He's already spilled over. Fire roars to his left and ice snaps up, swallowing it whole, from his right. He trembles and twitches under him, agonizingly hard with no relief in sight. There's a very noticeable tent in his pants, and no amount of ice is going to bring it down.
Kiss??
He's not that far gone yet. He shakes his head, denying him in a breathless whisper. ]
I'll burn you.
no subject
He's nowhere near rational enough to think clearly, so he trusts in Shouto's request and himself too. Dropping his head to his shoulder, he presses a dizzied but gentle kiss there as he winds his left arm around his back, pulling him up off the mattress slightly. ]
Sorry. [ It's a gentle but quick apology, breathless as he rocks them together with a frayed control. Sorry he didn't pay more attention and try to pace them slower; sorry he's left you hanging now. His right, human hand skims lightly down along the side of his torso, brushing against bare abdominal muscles, though as he does so -- tendrils of light and feather begin to swirl down along his arm.
Just a hint, before in an instant the full of his Innocence invokes around them in a hurricane of gentle whiter-than-white downy soft light become material. The rippling cloak around Allen's shoulders and down his right arm, gloving it and him, and wide and down-lined hood like some kind of snow fairy slung low over his head and hanging down as if to trap them both in their own private world. He hovers, looking down at him while his left hand at his back lifts him off the mattress every so slightly, so very gingerly as that too transformed and left him unable to properly touch safely with anything other than his palm.
It feels gentle to the touch on another level entirely beyond physical, the essence of a loving gesture with its very nature as it reflects Allen's nature, and hums lightly with it. A physical divine manifestation of his heart and soul. Feeling cool and warm both to the touch, comforting, as it pools around them and under Shouto too like a living blanket or the embrace of giant wings. Different than how it usually forms, restless and whispering softly as it seems unable to settle on a final form it likes, wisps of feathered light brushing against them both like sea anemones might wave in the ocean current, it reflects the soft haziness in Allen's eyes as a pale glowing corona.
But it's also entirely flame and ice-proof with a better reaction time than his own, and smothers any flame where it falls over them as if negating the very physics of it. ]
It's alright. [ He says it gently, like it isn't devastatingly hard to keep his wits and not just grind against him in search of relief. Haloed silver eyes brighter than usual but soft and understanding as Allen tries to see something within Shouto's as well, seeming impossibly steady for someone in his state and hovering as close as he dares without risking injury himself. He wants to kiss you so very badly but isn't sure of what's safe.
Feather-shaped shards of glowing white light continue to fall gently around them like snow, seeming to peel both off him and out of the air that it mildly electrifies. Like motes of stardust. ]
Hold onto me. It won't burn. [ Whispered as soft and sweet as the kiss he can't give, Allen's fingers slip along the elastic waistband of his pants between them, light and nimble but also a little shaky. Tracing a line there for only a moment, before his hand slips underneath to gently cup him through his underwear. Simply, directly, and with a unassuming kind of boldness.
He blinks, breathing unevenly as his pupils dilate for a moment, and then palms him more firmly. ]
no subject
Sweat clings to his skin when Allen draws him up, off the mattress, and rocks into him with an apology on his lips, testing his control with a cursory roll of his hips that has him bucking against him unconsciously chasing that inferno. He buries his face into his collar, shuddering at the delectable sensations pooling at his groin. ]
I'm okay. [ He promises through heady breaths, barely keeping his mind afloat in a sea of pleasure. ] I just need a moment.
[ Or two. It's hard to tell. No matter what, he means to keep that promise. Kissing him might be a tall order right now when his internal temperature is pretty much shot, drunk on the taste of his mouth and the hard erection pressed against his. Still, he maintains enough control to keep his external temperature from impersonating a living volcano. Not that Allen's exploration of his torso helps in that regard. His stomach muscles clench under his furtive touches, and Shouto wraps his arms around him, caging him in with muscular arms. Holding him in this closely, it's nearly impossible to miss the tendrils of light that erupt from him lighting up the room so brightly, the fire still burning through his hair seems dim in comparison.
Shouto sucks in a breath, instincts pinpointing the source before his mind has a chance to catch up. He pulls back in time to feel the softest material he's ever known brush gently against every inch of his back, billowing gently against his skin.
Allen's cloak swirls around them like a living breathing entity moving on its own. The first time he'd ever felt it against his skin was when they were exploring the underground caves and his powers gave out sending him plummeting down a waterfall. The threads snapped all around him in the gentlest embrace breaking his fall. He'd seen it on other missions, but never like this, when there was no danger. Unless he... Oh. He used it against Touya too, to protect himself against his fire. He doesn't let himself drown in those memories, realizing why he evoked it in the first place - to protect against his quirk.
His thoughts slow to a crawl, and he stares at Allen in awe. The wisps of feathered light smother his flames with a gentle touch. The cloak settles all around them transporting them to a dreamlike world where shards of light drift down like snow, electrifying the air. A look of utter devotion paints itself in the brilliant shade of blue, and molten grey that settles in his heart. ]
... You're beautiful.
[ His chest feels like a burgeoning field of blossoms, mesmerized by the sight of him haloed by the light of his innocence. Like burning coal softly glowing in an open flame, Shouto reaches for him without hesitation, delicately touching his jaw, careful not to touch his cloak. Could he touch it? He doesn't ask, doesn't feel like he should.
Hold me.
An order in every sense of the word. One there was no way he wouldn't follow. With the molten heat having cooled by the sight of his evocation, he follows another set of orders first. He dips into that tender blaze, allowing himself to feel the desire nestled there. Activating his quirk, Shouto sweeps down to capture his mouth in a provocative kiss burning hot and blistering cold. ]
I love you.
[ He whispers when he surfaces to release the heat and cold that drifts between them in a cloud of white, before losing himself in the delicate taste of his mouth again. Actively concentrating on his quirk, Shouto doesn't notice what Allen's up to until his fingers slip along his waistband, and even then the exact nature of his intent doesn't make itself clear until his palms gently cup him through his underwear, sending a sizzling pleasure up his spine that makes him choke, and break the kiss with all the grace of a panting fool. ]
Allen--
[ He shudders, clinging to his shoulder with one hand, holding him exactly like he wanted, and rolls his hips forward, unable to stop himself even if he wanted, grinding back against that electrifying touch. ]
You--You too.
[ Don't just let it be him. Even in this state, he won't touch him without permission and grabs at his thigh instead. He digs his palm into the corded muscle, while still holding onto his shoulder, panting into the crook of his collar in a rush of searing heat and frigid puffs of air. ]
no subject
Everything feels like it realigns and clicks into place with that kiss he wanted so badly but was afraid to risk. Not even because of fearing being hurt, but that he would get hurt and it would devastate Shouto. And it's sweet but all-consuming, searing in a way where he's unsure if he's been literally burnt or not, but is sure he wants him to keep kissing him, and Allen sinks against Shouto to return it with the relief of a drowned man finding air. Like someone coming home.
It says "I love you" as much as "I want you," and Allen stares and feels tears well when Shouto says that out loud again. Unprompted. It makes his throat close over and he can't find anything to say, his heart too full to let him, and he dips through that swirl of mist and steam to seal his mouth to his and try to say it that way. Falling into him even as he's holding him up to kiss him in that tender but provocative kind of dance they've established, full of affirmations and devotion, and it's what emboldens him to let his hand wander to keep his promise too.
I love you and want to cherish you. Protect you, help you, and make you feel good too. Loved. It ripples throughout his Innocence as well, blanketing them both with a gentle kind of timeless serenity. ]
Shouto... [ Allen's voice hangs softly between them, kissing the edge of his jaw when he breaks away to pant for breath. He bites his lip to watch him in some fascination and awe as he shudders and buries his face against his collar, rolling his hips into Allen's hand in a way that steals his breath and makes the coil of desire in him tighten up almost more than any of his touches had to an almost foreign-feeling extent. He grinds the heel of his hand back in response, letting his fingers dance across him as he starts to feel him out a little more boldly.
Him too? He's a little too dizzy to understand what Shouto means at first, until he feels his hand grip his thigh. It clicks then, or at least he thinks it does, and Allen shudders at realizing it. At being reminded of the neglected pressure between his legs scarcely inches away from Shouto's hand.
He gives a suddenly breathless nod, kissing first the side of his head as it's the best he can reach at the moment, and then shifting to press another against his ear more meaningfully. ]
My belt— [ Said with lightly panted breath, a little clumsily into his ear, as he begins to rub Shouto gently through his underwear. Carefully, trying to gauge his response. ]
no subject
Belt. Allen's belt. His pants. That meant-- He gulps down more air to get the words out, but it's hard to breathe through the haze of a burning wildfire in his chest. His lungs work overtime to deal with the cold and heat. Usually, it wasn't difficult to deal with both sides of his quirk at once. He'd worked on that the last year, but these weren't normal circumstances. Somehow, he was under immense pressure not to burn up in flames from Allen's probing hands. ]
I can--touch you?
[ He palms his thigh the same way Allen's palms his groin, but there's no satisfying conclusion in either case. Not enough pressure, the speed torturously slow, and the angle. He cants his hips down to change it, driving himself a little harder against him, divulging a quiet moan from the act. ]
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He gives another shaky nod, dropping his head to suck a light mark on his neck as he palms back more roughly in time with how he bucks against him, applying more pressure and drawing it out more slowly as that quiet moan reverberates in his ears. A light nip of teeth accompanying it. ]
Please? [ He says it as a soft groan himself, pressing his leg deeper into Shouto's hand as if imagining it somewhere else. The request isn't for wanting relief though, it isn't that. Even in this sort of state it isn't that. ]
I want-- [ Breath hitching, he begins to paint hot, open-mouthed kisses along the right side of Shouto's neck and shoulder, but reigns himself in enough to do so slowly still. Trying to grasp the hardened flesh under his hand to stroke him properly, but he can only manage it halfway as the fabric between them is a lot stiffer and more smooth than he was expecting. Flame resistant underwear too? ]
I want to do this together too.
no subject
Thankfully, he's held back by a modicum of reason, managing to undo the buckle when he remembers to use both hands; fancy that. He slips the belt off him, tossing it to the side in a mindless throw before moving to his pants. Undoing the top button takes quite a bit of concentration he can ill afford. He's slowly losing his mind, bucking into that palm in a rhythm that's not nearly enough, but he's too frazzled to accomplish both tasks at once when he can barely breathe with the double assault on his person. He trembles through all of it, making the task of removing his pants even harder. For a lucid moment, he calls Allen's name, ready to tell him to stop, but the mere notion sounds like the worst idea he's had to date, and keeps his mouth shut, not that that keeps any sounds at bay.
Finally, after what seemed like a torture session he'd do anything to go through again, Shouto shoves his pants down enough to make out the bulge in his underwear, and for a moment his mouth goes dry. This is the first time, he's ever thought about touching someone like this. Even himself... he refrained, using his ice to do away with unpleasantries in the morning. An act that had become more frequent in the last few months. ]
Allen.
[ Shouto slows forcing himself to stop. Breathes through his mouth not to jerk into that lovely hand that feels like heaven and hell all at once. For the first time since they started this encounter, he's feeling jittery. Like crossing a line he set for himself, and had Allen not given him express permission to touch him, this is where he would have stopped. Held himself back no matter how he felt. He kisses him instead, lifting his head from his shoulder with both hands to capture his mouth in a searing kiss. ]
We'll do it together.
[ He tells him, warning him, before he lets one hand drop to cup the bulging flesh, stroking him gently opposite of what he craved, but wanting to start out slow like he'd done for him. ]
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But... he'd also have to stop touching him then. And that's utterly unthinkable with the small shivers and shaky breaths and way Shouto drives himself against him in seeking greater friction, the way he's frayed under his touch and how that frays Allen more than anything, and after he had pleaded for Allen to do so. So instead his fingers dance and press along his length in slow and coaxing strokes, firmer as he becomes more comfortable with touching him, not meaning to be teasing even if it somewhat is. Waiting for him to catch up, not wanting this over too soon (or ever), and debating if he should slip his hand beneath his underwear too because that has to be so uncomfortable, if that isn't too much right now, and is thus caught offguard when Shouto manages to finally loosen his pants and pulls them down, revealing fitted boxer-briefs extremely similar to the ones that Shouto had once lent him when he washed back ashore.
It frees him and he sucks in a breath, shuddering at the sudden, blissful lack of the worst of the restraint, lifting his head up to look at him a moment later right as Shouto reaches for his face. Meeting him halfway in a somewhat uncoordinated but passionate and raw kiss he lets Shouto take the lead on as he hums his appreciation for how he tastes his mouth, riled up and blood humming through his ears even without being touched at all for a while now.
It isn't the effect people can have on him that truly fires Allen up after all, but realizing the effect he can have on others.
But when Shouto reaches down to touch him-- that's something else entirely. After all, it isn't like... ... Well, he's never touched himself either? Not really. Attempted to when he was younger and just wanted an erection to go away, but found himself too disgusted with himself to go through with it. It's a mix of pride and shame, you know? And so he's only ever dealt with them by sheer willpower and actively ignoring it until it went away which has made the last few months kind of frazzling at times. The very strict self-imposed rules of a gentleman he puts on himself that are currently in shambles on the floor where he couldn't care less about them.
So when Shouto strokes him so gently his knees buckle as he completely forgets what he was doing. His name on his lips as a soft cry as Allen moans into the kiss, hips rocking forward to drive him against his hand as the control he'd been trying to hold onto frays. ]
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This wasn't like one of the times he woke up next to Allen, stiff and hard, dizzy with arousal from vivid dreams he couldn't remember, yet found himself caught in the sensation of them. Wet dreams. They were the true reason he meditated so much. One day he wouldn't realize it wasn't a dream and reach for Allen and regret it.
Ice let him calm the raging fire coursing through him as he rolled away from their futon, sweaty and a little sticky. It helped calm him within moments, breathing heavily until his body regulated itself back to softness. Those times, Shouto took a bath upon waking, no matter if they'd just taken one the night before. Probably the source of his dreams. He liked Allen. His smile, his laugh. His soul. He also found him attractive. Not at first, but as time passed, and they started to get to know each other, he saw him in a new light.
His hair growing out became a fixation he often found himself distracted by, wanting to feel the light strands between his fingers. He repressed that feeling like he repressed his arousal. Then he started noticing his hands. Allen usually wore gloves but as time passed, he began to forget them in his presence, piquing his curiosity. However, nothing compared to his mouth. He liked his smiles. His laughter, bright and earnest, and he liked his kisses, even when they didn't always find their mark. He liked that too.
He never noticed when that feeling turned to love, lodged so deeply within him, he couldn't see it for what it was, even Kizu missed it, blind to the way she was more amenable to Tim than anyone else. That newfound feeling turned into kindling, igniting to life with simple kisses. Always, he could keep himself in check with his ice, but this time, it was impossible when Allen wanted as much as he did.
Slow and steady, he strokes him through the thin material, tasting his moan through the kiss. It makes him buck against him, completely losing himself in the sensation this time. He won't last long now, not with Allen sounding the way he does, moving desperately, or was that him? He can't tell. Doesn't care enough. It's not important. Touching him is, being touched by him is. He shudders into the kiss, mouth parting to release the building steam as he grinds against him desperately - this time he knows it's him.
He picks up the pace, his grip on Allen firming considerably, adding pressure. He strokes down the full bulge of him, as far as he can reach, adding a touch of cold. On his return trip back, he adds a touch of heat, drinking up his moans up until Allen finds the right pressure that makes him choke, sending him spiraling, losing himself in the pleasure that starts to crest. ]
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Why do you think he sometimes would get especially twitchy about being naked around him instead of just being slightly uncomfortable before telling himself he was being silly? Sometimes he just didn't trust his body to not be stupid. It was the cause of more than one minor identity crisis he kept entirely to himself and sweat out in private, and just got worse the more they began explore how the other liked to be kissed.
But that's all changed. Hands down each other's pants, there's a radical honesty letting another feel just how much you want them, and feeling just how much they want you too. Allen whines and feels pulled in two directions, wanting to keep rubbing Shouto, to feel more of him, but finding his coordination too scattered to fully focus, hips canting into how his fingers run across him in seeking more pressure. He squeezes the bulge beneath his palm more erratically the next time he rocks into his hand as a result, trying to find some rhythm again.
It's... not even about finding him attractive, you know? Maybe Allen would have actually questioned and doubted himself more if there had been a turning point like that for himself. Lying there in bed some nights when he woke up while Shouto was still asleep, he'd find himself memorizing how his arms looks when they draped around him -- solid, warm, and muscular -- or how their fingers might have stayed loosely slotted together. Or times when he'd get lost in how piercing his eyes were in a way that compelled him to study and notice how even his lashes were mismatched in white and red, laughing sheepishly if he was called out on it and kissing him on the nose then. How overwhelmed with the desire to kiss him he might get when those eyes warmed subtly or the rare occasions when Shouto might smile too, when he might laugh, and he'd try to drown him in a giddy sort of affection then and say he looked beautiful.
But that was different. It always came from such an intense feeling of love and connection, of wanting to cement and cherish that connection, to draw out more of that warmth and those smiles and that love, that it didn't feel the same as times in the past when he's found a girl cute or attractive. It wasn't anything that came from something he noticed about him physically. Something like that always made him incredibly uncomfortable and was very thoroughly repressed as he found people who followed those urges creepy or immature.
This was different, even when his body started to react with desire and he found himself wanting more than sweet and chaste kisses. It felt like the same thing that had always beckoned him towards Shouto. Something much deeper, and much more fundamental. Something in his soul that spoke out to and stirred Allen's, something even someone like Allen who understands the nature of and literally perceives souls could never articulate, that made him want first to just be near him. Then to kiss him, to tell him in his own fashion how he loved him and wanted to be there. And then to make him want to be near -- be with -- him physically too. Such an intense desire without boundaries that makes his heart and the cloak around them burn bright and radiant -- and one born entirely from wanting to just be together past even boundaries of flesh.
Togetherness, in every sense of the word. It's why he's never truly questioned himself and how he felt. Not when it came so naturally and so gradually from the sentiment he treasured almost more than anything else. The only relationship he can understand.
But Allen's -- not going to last long, no matter how much he wants to. Not when they've been working themselves up and down for what feels like hours, not he has no experience with pleasure like this, and certainly not when the sudden addition of first a cool and then a hot touch along his cock that has him first moaning and then crying out Shouto's name, spine arching until the cooler night air hits his chest and jerking against him for more. Clinging to him, the wickedly long claws of his left hand at his back briefly flexing against his skin as hard thin lines that press into, but don't break the skin. Crown Clown shifts around them, the cloak cool and soft as liquid silk as it begins to subtly tighten where it falls against their limbs. Caressing with a gossamer embrace.
It's part of why he hooks two fingers into the waistband of Shouto's underwear then, and without a second or even a first thought, neatly yanks them and his pants partway down.
And why, sealing their mouths together again with a renewed fervor and soft moan at the continued exploration of his hand, he wraps his Innocence-gloved fingers around him directly as he gives a firm pump of the shaft. ]
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He didn't hide from Allen because he found his reaction disgusting. Surprising? Yes. A little embarrassing to find himself in that state? Again, yes. The thing is, he knows of Allen's propriety, not the extent of it, but it's not hard to gauge when he was still twitchy with him at times when they were nude. In response, Shouto gave him privacy. Turning away when they changed taking his cues from Allen whenever he could read them which he wasn't the best at. That's why he tried to understand him better. Started broaching subjects he hadn't in the past to figure out his thoughts on them. Being comfortable with kissing was one thing. Finding his bedmate sporting a massive hard-on while sharing the same space was entirely different. He would never press him with his needs. That was the last thing he wanted. So, he kept it to himself, more than happy with what they shared.
When he asked to talk to him tonight, he didn't expect an outcome like this. Not that he's complaining! He's more astounded than anything, especially after Allen veered away from the subject when he tried to bring it up when he thought he might feel the same way. Having him sit on his lap rocking into him more than got the message across. The way he boldly touched him further cemented he wasn't the only one affected.
Not with the way his spine curves in a beautiful arch that has him dropping his head to lay a line of hot kisses on every inch of his chest he can reach. He's seen his claws in battle but never felt them against his flesh. They make his skin prickle with anticipation, and he jerks hard against his hand, thoroughly aroused, not realizing he has no idea what that means yet as his cloak tightens around the panting mess he's become. It's such a suffocatingly wonderful feeling being surrounded by every aspect of him like being folded in by soft wings.
In contrast, he stops using his quirk, no longer capable of controlling it, and sticks to jerking him off over his underwear in long sure strokes that stutter to a complete and utter stop when Allen wrenches his underwear down and takes him by the most exquisite material he's ever known. Shouto's hips buck off the mattress, fucking Allen's hand, choking on the orgasm on the horizon. With molten heat pooling in his belly, ice runs down his arm and thigh, in parallel to the blaze racing on the other side that pulls the most obscene gasp from him while he frantically clings to-- ]
Allen—I can’t—
[ Can't control the burst of ice and fire that roars to life around him, clashing against his cloak. He makes a desperate sound, starting to splinter, but he can't let go like this. Starts hyperventilating unable to hold back the tide that sends red strands dancing in wisps of firelight, and white are encapsulated in icicles. He turns frantic near his ear, and the moment he finally shatters, a cold fire bursts across his chest in two intersecting red and white circles that make him look wild as his orgasm barrels into him and he spills into his hand. ]
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Something that is going to be forever impossible to put back in a box now. Not when Shouto snaps up into his hand with such a choked sound, and even when Allen gives a faintly disappointed groan at the lack of contact when he lets go and stops touching him, it dies on his lips to watch him splinter and come undone beneath him. That's -- oh.
No, he entirely understands what it means to look at someone and feel desire now. Pure, raw, hot, unfiltered desire to touch and make come undone, beautiful and disheveled, and it hits him with the subtly of a truck. His own uncomfortably aroused state means nothing by comparison, and Allen leans in to lick the shell of his ear with a hot puff of breath as he chases down Shouto's climax instead of his own and with a lot more gusto. Sucking hard on the lobe and rolling it over his tongue as his wrist pumps in a strong, smooth rhythm in sync with his hips, the Innocence of his glove gliding with fluidity over the hardened flesh, cool but also warm. The first creep of frost sweeps underneath his lips and he licks at that too for a moment, to momentarily banish it with the heat of his mouth before Shouto gasps in his ear. Before he feels the chill against his knee where it's pressed to his hip too and sees the flicker of firelight once again from the corner of his eye.
Can't—? His quirk. No, he means-- ]
It's alright. [ Even in his panting and wrecked state, Allen says it so softly against his cool ear, so lovingly, and squeezes as he continues to jerk him off faster. Even as the ice encases one knee and there's a bloom of fire to the other side that swirls and dances with the errant featherlike strands that peel off his cloak. Crown Clown reacts on instinct, spreading against and smothering the fire where it touches as they continue to move in tandem, insulating Allen, but letting itself become iced over as well to the other side. But with his chest partially bared where the cloak doesn't touch and one knee pressed against Shouto's hip, it might still burn him before Crown Clown can smother it in time. Maybe it has already but he's too overstimulated to process the pain correctly. And if that's so, he's okay with that. It's a price he's more than fine with right now, Shouto had warned him already, and it's why Allen hovers to his safer right side with his hood slung so low as to obscure his face, breathing sweet and soothing reassurances against his ear when Shouto starts to hyperventilate as his hand continues to work up and down his cock. Trying to coax him little by little into letting go.
I'm here, I'll be here, we'll be here for each other together-- Every step of the night he's wanted to find ways to say that and reassure him. Realizing he was being reassured of it by Shouto, even if it came in the form of a stack of papers. Trying to heal old wounds he didn't realize were still a little raw. This is not what Allen had in mind or where he thought it would go, not exactly, but the fundamental meaning behind it is still the same for him.
Every part of me -- I'm saying you have it.
The moment the heat cuts like someone flipped a switch though, when that cool white and red fire blossoms between them in conjunction with the light of Crown Clown and Allen's breath catches as it's directly under his face, unprotected from that angle yet not burning him -- he stares. Remembers seeing that before, blooming between them as well that night in that alternate reality of his world they'd been trapped in but had forgotten about with everything else that was happening. It's beautiful. He's beautiful, head thrown back in the moment, the most beautiful thing he thinks he's ever seen, and Allen stares in awe.
For a moment he almost thinks he's orgasmed too just from feeling himself emotionally tip over, and with the safer temperature he surges forward then. Mouth hot and sealing over Shouto's throat like a starving man feasting at a banquet, or the worship of the pious, and the bladed fingers at his back continue to hold him up tenderly while the firm but loving grasp of his other hand wrings the last of his orgasm from him with sweet and thorough attention. ]
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You make me feel...
Too much. Fraying at the edges, he clings to him with every part of his being between frantic breaths. Squirming desperately in his arms when he attacks his ear, whispering words he's too far gone to understand. This time, he's the one squeezing his thighs around him, thrusting into his hand wrapped in the most delicate material he's ever known until something in him snaps, and he lets go.
Riding high on arousal, he draws on powers beyond his understanding and starts to tunnel a path straight for the stone made from his blood, unaware if he makes the connection before he implodes. A burst of cold fire ignites from his chest in two distinct lines. Burning fiercely against his cloak, Shouto engulfs Allen in a desperate yet tender embrace. Ardent and serene all at once.
Allen's attention prolongs the steady thrust of his hips, drawing out his orgasm until his head's abuzz with too many sensations. The heated mouth on his throat and bladed fingers at his back drag a breathy whine that expands the trail of flames dancing across his chest. Hungry lips seek his, urged on by a foreign craving surging through his veins. His fingers find him between cloak and fire. Slick and far too hard against his palm. ]
Your turn.
[ He whispers, still half-dazed and growing soft in his hands. No longer overstimulated, Shouto turns his attention back to Allen. Ever so gently, he pumps his cock in his hand. Slow and steady, skin slides against skin, matching the pace of his muddled mind. His lips find Allen's, kissing him delicately. Whispering his name over, and over, and over again, like a hymn of adoration. ]
Let go.
[ He whispers against his lips, engulfing him in white and red flames that burn lovingly against his Innocence. ]
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Somewhere, dimly in the back of his mind Allen is aware of the shift in Crown Clown. Aware even more starkly when for a moment it feels like his mind connects with what he sees in Shouto and that takes his breath away, not understanding it or the role of the earring in the moment. He's also just far too gone for it to really register, and he whines with force when Shouto's hand slips between them to grasp him directly this time. Mind going blank from an explosion of foreign pleasure as the claws at his back twitch for a moment, pressing hard thin lines against his skin that threaten that fine line between drawing blood or not, and the cloak rustles around them both. He'd let go of him with his other hand when his hips finally slowed, wondering in a disoriented moment if and how maybe he should clean his hand, forgot what he was doing when embraced and kissed as all he wanted to do was fall into him and kiss him back, and forgets everything all over again when he begins to pump his cock so lovingly. So maddeningly slowly. ]
Shouto— [ Allen gasps. Moans as Shouto squeezes him so gently in a way that has his eyes rolling back into his head. Slings his still-human arm around his shoulders somewhat clumsily to balance, and tries to kiss him back like he so dearly wants to but entirely lacks the coordination for it right now. Instead his stomach tight as he tries so hard not to strain against him in search for a firmer touch, but can't help but roll his hips in time with his hand. Chasing after the feeling.
I feel... like I'm splintering. But like I could keep splintering like this forever. Feeling almost suffocated by the welling of affection he feels at how gentle he's being, murmuring his name like it's a prayer and slowly working him over with such a loving and delicate touch that leaves him writhing for more and stuck just shy of a precipice. Breathless. Finding pace with his hand and thrusting into it as they both find a pace that's both far too slow for him and yet all he wants, and clumsily he tries to kiss him back without losing his coordination. Pants and whines with tiny jolts from his gentle attentions that he has no idea what to do with except ride on instinct.
I love you.
"Let go."
Allen blinks. Shudders. His breath coming out in a shaky whine as he holds on tighter, hips bucking harder into his hand with sudden uncoordination as what little pretense of restraint he had frays. ]
I— [ His voice cracks, muscles trembling and starting to unravel -- and fighting it. But if I do, I—
He chokes as his hand finds a way to grip him that has him scrabbling at his shoulders with a ragged cry. A breathy plea, finally, panting against his lips as his hips begin to work into his hand with more desperation and Crown Clown tightens up, spreading out behind him and squeezing them tighter in its embrace. ]
Harder...