[Rin's always been a passionate person. Passionate about his goals, his dreams, the people he loves. Most would say he's the most passionate idiot they've ever met. But he swears when he stands beside Sousuke sometimes, there's no sense in trying to compete. His best friend knows what he wants and how to reach it. He charges through, solid focus and determination, racing ahead in one straight line with no chance of looking back. Admirable, maybe. Dangerous, sure. It's not the best idea to rely on tunnel vision for so long. But at a moment like this when the two of them share the same goal, when all they can see at the end of their respective tunnels is each other, Rin can't bring himself to complain. It's selfish. There's no way it can't be. But Sousuke's never looked at him this way before. He's never touched him, memorized him, devoured him... Begging to swim with him again was one thing, but to see and feel the extent of his best friend's desire for everything else leaves Rin's mind spinning.
Twice he almost tells his shinki to slow down, take a moment to breathe, or move his mouth somewhere else. Almost. Because ultimately he knows there's no point when they've made it this far. When Sousuke's worked so hard and fast he's left his damn nipples feeling like they could accidentally cut the inside of his cheek.
Apparently his nipples are erogenous zones... Not sure if he should regret this discovery or not.
No time for that. He's growing more and more impatient by the millisecond, every last inch of skin a screaming, boiling hot bundle of tender nerves beneath his best friend's mouth and hands. If they don't finish this soon, if he can't undo this damn zipper before he loses all feeling in his thighs-- His body gives off a sudden, violent jerk, pitching forward with a yelp once he finally notices his fly coming undone. From there he's frozen, only managing a tremble or two from the contrast of cold air against his newly exposed, damp patch of skin. If he lowers his knees just enough, if Sousuke dares to grind the heel of his palm forward another inch, if he thrusts his hips to toss them off balance and back onto the sheets... Rin knows what he wants. And he craves it now more than anything. But he can't go chasing it while leaving Sousuke behind. Not again... Not ever again.
It comes to him far too naturally. Circling his hips backwards, arching upward in slow, sensual stretches to help guide those now semi-sticky fingers from his fly to the loosened hem of his waistband. Or maybe these clothes never fit quite right in the first place. If they're falling away this easily... Whatever's to blame, Rin ends up with his legs stretched out long and uncurled on either side of Sousuke's waist, his bottom lifted up high enough off the bed so he can shimmy his pants well below his thighs. Of course, being as flexible as he is, each movement seems effortless, highlighted and glowing beneath the glow of the moon. Shadows help accentuate each divot and slope, one row of tight stomach muscle clenching after the other before he eventually loses some strength in his wrists and plops back down between Sousuke's calves, knees still bent, pants nearly off but stretching awkwardly above the knees. Shouldn't be an issue to slip them off this way though.]
Yours too.
[he pants out as he completely rests his back flat on the mattress, hair fanning out around him like a red halo, feet somewhat struggling to kick and wriggle out of each of his pant legs.]
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Twice he almost tells his shinki to slow down, take a moment to breathe, or move his mouth somewhere else. Almost. Because ultimately he knows there's no point when they've made it this far. When Sousuke's worked so hard and fast he's left his damn nipples feeling like they could accidentally cut the inside of his cheek.
Apparently his nipples are erogenous zones... Not sure if he should regret this discovery or not.
No time for that. He's growing more and more impatient by the millisecond, every last inch of skin a screaming, boiling hot bundle of tender nerves beneath his best friend's mouth and hands. If they don't finish this soon, if he can't undo this damn zipper before he loses all feeling in his thighs-- His body gives off a sudden, violent jerk, pitching forward with a yelp once he finally notices his fly coming undone. From there he's frozen, only managing a tremble or two from the contrast of cold air against his newly exposed, damp patch of skin. If he lowers his knees just enough, if Sousuke dares to grind the heel of his palm forward another inch, if he thrusts his hips to toss them off balance and back onto the sheets... Rin knows what he wants. And he craves it now more than anything. But he can't go chasing it while leaving Sousuke behind. Not again... Not ever again.
It comes to him far too naturally. Circling his hips backwards, arching upward in slow, sensual stretches to help guide those now semi-sticky fingers from his fly to the loosened hem of his waistband. Or maybe these clothes never fit quite right in the first place. If they're falling away this easily... Whatever's to blame, Rin ends up with his legs stretched out long and uncurled on either side of Sousuke's waist, his bottom lifted up high enough off the bed so he can shimmy his pants well below his thighs. Of course, being as flexible as he is, each movement seems effortless, highlighted and glowing beneath the glow of the moon. Shadows help accentuate each divot and slope, one row of tight stomach muscle clenching after the other before he eventually loses some strength in his wrists and plops back down between Sousuke's calves, knees still bent, pants nearly off but stretching awkwardly above the knees. Shouldn't be an issue to slip them off this way though.]
Yours too.
[he pants out as he completely rests his back flat on the mattress, hair fanning out around him like a red halo, feet somewhat struggling to kick and wriggle out of each of his pant legs.]