[ For an angel, Ryousuke knows that he's not particularly conventional, let alone actually angelic. Most of the ones he's known are fairly tame, by comparison, and seem to lovingly cherish their soulmates when they find them in their new lifetimes. Him, he takes great delight in mercilessly teasing his, giving him no quarter regardless of how glad he is to see him again. He's pretty sure he's had a couple of the other angels he and Haruichi have known over the decades call him demonic, rather than angelic, but that's fine. He figures that the affectionate torment is worth the payoff, in the end, for his soulmate.
Besides, if Kuramochi didn't enjoy it, he wouldn't stick around. There hasn't been a lifetime yet where they've been together where he's left - it says something about their relationship. (Besides it being a relief, even if Ryousuke would never admit to it.)
And, anyways, he cherishes him in his own way, contradicting his words with his touch. He's not a complete monster, after all, especially when it feels like it's all buildup to this one moment. Though he's spent a lot of the time making fun of him today - even now, perched in his lap and rocking his hips down to meet the rise of Youichi's - his hands keep betraying him. He runs his fingers through Kuramochi's stupidly styled hair, doesn't pull like he has when he's wanted him down on his level for whatever reason. His hands wander, cradling his face every time he kisses him, running across his shoulders and arms and chest like it's reverent.
He hasn't seen him like this in what feels like it must have been centuries, or seen that wide and almost manic grin, or felt the perfect burn of fullness like this. No matter how he acts, he's missed the hell out of him, out of them, and there's a kind of completeness now that almost leaves him breathless. A rarity, if there ever was one.
There isn't even any thought given to his wings being out right now - they give him better balance right now being spread out, anyways, and he doesn't really have the attention span to tuck them away midfuck - despite the fact this isn't the first time they've reconnected. ]
[ kuramochi has A Thing for ryousuke. this is just kind of one of those facts that has been orbiting around his head since he met the guy. as someone who generally enjoys the company of girls (who don't enjoy the company of him, but, well, maybe that's not the point) it was a little weird at first, but getting to know him, playing with him, spending every day with him--fuck, man, call kuramochi a masochist, because he really, really likes ryousuke. even when he's saying things that are dangerously construed as dirty (especially then) or chopping him between the shoulder blades when he does something that's probably dumb, he is into it. and he has been pretty much since the day they first met.
(he doesn't know it's more than that. not yet, anyway.)
but, anyway. having been into it but also fearing for his life sometimes (50% of the time) kuramochi hadn't acted on it, until one day it presented itself in a perfect package, tied up with a clever little bow and hand delivered by ryousuke himself. kuramochi shouldn't have been surprised, considering how smart ryosan is, but it doesn't change the fact that he's fumbling and embarrassed and a lot more bark than he is bite. how they ended up here is (ryosan's doing) probably a miracle, but, if it is, you can definitely consider kuramochi blessed.
ryousuke is warm as hell, warm and tight and there and everywhere, and it's taking all of his concentration not to jerk his hips up like he's sixteen again, curling his fingers into his hips as he leans into the small hands running into his styled hair. he loves those hands, loves them when they're catching and moving baseballs and loves them when they're hitting him and loves them when they're like this, loves his callouses and his foxlike smile and a lot of other really sappy and embarrassing thoughts that he'd never say out loud.
his own hands tighten on ryo's hips and he tips his head back, hitting a spot just right, and when he does, that's when he sees pink.
it's not a totally abnormal sight considering his hair, but. this is bigger, wider. a cage of feathers backlit by the setting sun outside in the window, casting shadows bigger than life on the walls around them. it's like ryousuke doesn't even know--how does he even know they're there? kuramochi has to be hallucinating. or dead. sex is great. he didn't expect it to be this great. ]
Holy shit. [ he breathes out, and when he leans back to a look a little he ends up falling, catching himself on his lower elbows and accidentally bumping his hips up out of time as he tries to take in the fact that holy fucking shit ryosan has wings is he hallucinating what the hell ]
"potentially nsfw" more like "this post is literally going to be a bunch of wings and porn"
[ There's always something so very satisfying about stealing Kuramochi's attention away from the girls that he tends to chase after. Ryousuke is selfish, there's no two ways around it, and competitive as hell in a lot of things in life. Baseball might win out - especially when you're trying to keep that one step ahead of your little brother, who has followed you from heaven to earth and wants to win just as much as you do - but turning his soulmate's head every lifetime they find each other?
Hook, line, sinker. Ensnaring him further is just an added bonus, because while he's got a sadistic streak a mile wide there's a matching masochist in Kuramochi that he will happily exploit. The fact that he's the one that's usually making the moves hardly bothers him, since it just means that he can gauge just how much his body remembers when his head doesn't, can guide him where he wants him and see where Kuramochi goes from there. A lot of the lead up to dating, and the dating itself, is made up of this.
Sex, sex is a lot more of it, but never really the first time. For as much as he likes things his way, there's always, always something different with their first time in every lifetime. It's about the only time he really loses himself in the moment, and the rest of the world falls away. All it is is heat and hands, and if he winds up with fingerprints along his hips then, well. It'll be well worth it, and he encourages it, the idea of being marked again, of feeling whole and getting to play with Kuramochi again, hearing his cackling laughter and seeing his face heat up to a not-so-dirty comment made dirty.
Letting out a startled groan as Kuramochi bucks his hips up, Ryousuke braces his hands against his chest, wings spreading to keep from wobbling because of him suddenly falling back onto the bed. His feet curl a little and hook on the edge of it, and he takes a moment to breathe before -
Well, before the moment and Kuramochi's reaction register together.
And he drops his head back, laughing openly in a way that leaves him shaking to the tips of his feathers, breathless and kind of giddy from the sex high. There's still that little sadistic streak in it, but it's fondly mocking rather than outright malicious. ]
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ayyy, aaaameeeennn.
Besides, if Kuramochi didn't enjoy it, he wouldn't stick around. There hasn't been a lifetime yet where they've been together where he's left - it says something about their relationship. (Besides it being a relief, even if Ryousuke would never admit to it.)
And, anyways, he cherishes him in his own way, contradicting his words with his touch. He's not a complete monster, after all, especially when it feels like it's all buildup to this one moment. Though he's spent a lot of the time making fun of him today - even now, perched in his lap and rocking his hips down to meet the rise of Youichi's - his hands keep betraying him. He runs his fingers through Kuramochi's stupidly styled hair, doesn't pull like he has when he's wanted him down on his level for whatever reason. His hands wander, cradling his face every time he kisses him, running across his shoulders and arms and chest like it's reverent.
He hasn't seen him like this in what feels like it must have been centuries, or seen that wide and almost manic grin, or felt the perfect burn of fullness like this. No matter how he acts, he's missed the hell out of him, out of them, and there's a kind of completeness now that almost leaves him breathless. A rarity, if there ever was one.
There isn't even any thought given to his wings being out right now - they give him better balance right now being spread out, anyways, and he doesn't really have the attention span to tuck them away midfuck - despite the fact this isn't the first time they've reconnected. ]
good god let me give you my life c:
(he doesn't know it's more than that. not yet, anyway.)
but, anyway. having been into it but also fearing for his life sometimes (50% of the time) kuramochi hadn't acted on it, until one day it presented itself in a perfect package, tied up with a clever little bow and hand delivered by ryousuke himself. kuramochi shouldn't have been surprised, considering how smart ryosan is, but it doesn't change the fact that he's fumbling and embarrassed and a lot more bark than he is bite. how they ended up here is (ryosan's doing) probably a miracle, but, if it is, you can definitely consider kuramochi blessed.
ryousuke is warm as hell, warm and tight and there and everywhere, and it's taking all of his concentration not to jerk his hips up like he's sixteen again, curling his fingers into his hips as he leans into the small hands running into his styled hair. he loves those hands, loves them when they're catching and moving baseballs and loves them when they're hitting him and loves them when they're like this, loves his callouses and his foxlike smile and a lot of other really sappy and embarrassing thoughts that he'd never say out loud.
his own hands tighten on ryo's hips and he tips his head back, hitting a spot just right, and when he does, that's when he sees pink.
it's not a totally abnormal sight considering his hair, but. this is bigger, wider. a cage of feathers backlit by the setting sun outside in the window, casting shadows bigger than life on the walls around them. it's like ryousuke doesn't even know--how does he even know they're there? kuramochi has to be hallucinating. or dead. sex is great. he didn't expect it to be this great. ]
Holy shit. [ he breathes out, and when he leans back to a look a little he ends up falling, catching himself on his lower elbows and accidentally bumping his hips up out of time as he tries to take in the fact that holy fucking shit ryosan has wings is he hallucinating what the hell ]
"potentially nsfw" more like "this post is literally going to be a bunch of wings and porn"
Hook, line, sinker. Ensnaring him further is just an added bonus, because while he's got a sadistic streak a mile wide there's a matching masochist in Kuramochi that he will happily exploit. The fact that he's the one that's usually making the moves hardly bothers him, since it just means that he can gauge just how much his body remembers when his head doesn't, can guide him where he wants him and see where Kuramochi goes from there. A lot of the lead up to dating, and the dating itself, is made up of this.
Sex, sex is a lot more of it, but never really the first time. For as much as he likes things his way, there's always, always something different with their first time in every lifetime. It's about the only time he really loses himself in the moment, and the rest of the world falls away. All it is is heat and hands, and if he winds up with fingerprints along his hips then, well. It'll be well worth it, and he encourages it, the idea of being marked again, of feeling whole and getting to play with Kuramochi again, hearing his cackling laughter and seeing his face heat up to a not-so-dirty comment made dirty.
Letting out a startled groan as Kuramochi bucks his hips up, Ryousuke braces his hands against his chest, wings spreading to keep from wobbling because of him suddenly falling back onto the bed. His feet curl a little and hook on the edge of it, and he takes a moment to breathe before -
Well, before the moment and Kuramochi's reaction register together.
And he drops his head back, laughing openly in a way that leaves him shaking to the tips of his feathers, breathless and kind of giddy from the sex high. There's still that little sadistic streak in it, but it's fondly mocking rather than outright malicious. ]