[ whatever unsteady footing he was beginning to gain is tugged out from underneath him when jonouchi sits in his lap. the sensation of tight heat on all sides tugs a humiliating sound unmercifully from his still exposed throat, and his twitching fingers dig in deep again, leaving more purpling crescent-shaped marks. at least they're in places where nobody will see them. he doesn't know if jonouchi left any visible evidence of himself across his collarbone, but he'll find out in the morning. it doesn't matter. he has clothes he can cover up with, anyway.
his breath comes in heavy gasps, aided by the suffocating feeling of jonouchi pressed warmly flush against him once he wraps his arms around his shoulders again, collarbone digging against his cheekbone, chest nudging against his when he breathes in. he has half a mind to push him off but can't go through with it, tells himself it'll just make things take longer when this was never meant to be drawn out. jonouchi's hair is tickling his chin. he grimaces at himself, at jonouchi, at this situation, and at the excuses he made to get here.
and then he makes more of them; reminds himself this is nothing more than a transaction, reminds himself that he has to move, although when he does his whole body curls with it. it's too much so soon after the first time.
his head hits the headboard again, tilted back, teeth sunk into his lower lip. he takes his hands off of his legs and grabs at his hips instead, fingers scrabbling at his lower back, the flat expanse above his tailbone as he tries to push him down even harder. if he lifts with his hips he can almost raise them both off the bed, but jonouchi is too heavy. ]
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his breath comes in heavy gasps, aided by the suffocating feeling of jonouchi pressed warmly flush against him once he wraps his arms around his shoulders again, collarbone digging against his cheekbone, chest nudging against his when he breathes in. he has half a mind to push him off but can't go through with it, tells himself it'll just make things take longer when this was never meant to be drawn out. jonouchi's hair is tickling his chin. he grimaces at himself, at jonouchi, at this situation, and at the excuses he made to get here.
and then he makes more of them; reminds himself this is nothing more than a transaction, reminds himself that he has to move, although when he does his whole body curls with it. it's too much so soon after the first time.
his head hits the headboard again, tilted back, teeth sunk into his lower lip. he takes his hands off of his legs and grabs at his hips instead, fingers scrabbling at his lower back, the flat expanse above his tailbone as he tries to push him down even harder. if he lifts with his hips he can almost raise them both off the bed, but jonouchi is too heavy. ]