[ of course, he hasn't been able to anticipate anything jonouchi's done since they decided to go through with this, so it isn't any wonder that he doesn't expect it when he stops to lift himself, and then the return to friction and sensation when he wraps his slick hand around him. he only has the vaguest idea of what he's about, head fuzzy from the feeling of a hand on his cock. his hands slide from jonouchi's hips down to his knees, but not without leaving trails of raised skin behind, tender welts that are sure to fade before the morning comes and jonouchi can see them.
seto's panting is harsh in the otherwise silent room, with only jonouchi's breathing to compete with his volume. he presses his shoulders back into his stacked up pillows, leverage so he can lift his hips into the hand that's gripping him. all he needs is a little more. he should be trying to impress, but what does it matter when he's half naked and gasping for breath? this is the last time they're going to see each other anyway.
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seto's panting is harsh in the otherwise silent room, with only jonouchi's breathing to compete with his volume. he presses his shoulders back into his stacked up pillows, leverage so he can lift his hips into the hand that's gripping him. all he needs is a little more. he should be trying to impress, but what does it matter when he's half naked and gasping for breath? this is the last time they're going to see each other anyway.
it should make him feel better. ]