
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2665673.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Zyuden_Sentai_Kyoryuger, Super_Sentai_Series
  Relationship:
      Rippuukan_Souji/Ian_Yorkland
  Character:
      Rippuukan_Souji, Ian_Yorkland
  Additional Tags:
      Plot_What_Plot/Porn_Without_Plot, Voyeurism, Frottage, Oral_Sex, Oral
      Fixation, Anal, Restraints, Teasing, Established_Relationship
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-11-24 Words: 3006
****** Just a Bit Western ******
by indiscriminate_indecision
Summary
     It's not often that Souji gets to have Ian like this.
Notes
     You know when you're sitting there, hungover after a wedding, and you
     think to yourself "I feel like writing some porn right now"?
     Yeah. Enjoy!
Ian's underneath him, skin flushed and shining with sweat. His breath comes in
short pants, and beneath Souji's hand his dick is impossibly hard.
Souji, for his part, is doing quite a good job of maintaining his cool
composure. Having managed to pin Ian quickly this time, his shirt was only
half-unbuttoned and his hair only slightly tousled. The satisfaction of winning
their little tussle hadn't yet left him, and the pleased quirk of his lips had
done astonishing – and obvious things to Ian's libido.
“Boy.” Ian's voice is harsh and deep, tinged with frustration. Souji tries not
to let his smirk widen, he really does, but it's so rare that he gets to have
Ian like this. He'd discovered quite early into their relationship that Ian was
something of an overly considerate lover; the times he'd left Souji breathless
and spent without even a chance to touch him were innumerable, and it had taken
more than a few tries before Souji had been able to have the pleasure of Ian
moaning against his skin. Even now there were times where Souji would have to
manhandle him into letting loose – the only problem with that being that he had
to be quick. Thankfully, his school tie made a rather convenient restraint when
he was able to keep Ian distracted for long enough to actually use it.
He moves his hand slowly and without the pressure he knows Ian likes, enjoying
the frustrated growl more than he probably should. With a teasingly slow place
he leans down, allowing his breath to ghost over the sensitive flesh in his
hand. Ian's annoyance promptly cuts off into a sharp inhalation as Souji wraps
his lips gently around the head, flicking his tongue out to catch the salty
pre-cum that had gathered. Ian's hips buck up immediately, and Souji's smirk is
ridiculously smug as he pulls away.
The look on Ian's face is priceless. Souji's sure he's never been glared at so
fiercely before, even if the effect is somewhat ruined by Ian's parted lips and
and deep breaths and, oh, his body still trying to desperately arch into
Souji's hand.
Souji meets Ian's eyes and slowly, deliberately, runs his tongue over his lips
before grasping the bottom one between his teeth; his fist tightens briefly,
fingers pressing against the pulsing vein that runs along the underside of
Ian's cock, and strokes down firmly. The same actions he usually makes before
delivering a – according to Ian – spectacular blowjob.
Ian's glare ceases only due to thumping his head back against the pillow with a
breathless groan. His hips rock, desperately seeking attention, and finally
Souji obliges. It's a smooth movement that brings him down again to drag his
teeth along the sensitive skin at Ian's hips, eliciting a long moan – and when
he finally bites at the skin, that moan cuts off into a gasping whimper and
Ian's back arches so far Souji's almost surprised to not hear a crack.
“Souji,” Ian's voice is breathless and pleading, a stark contrast to mere
moments ago. Souji chances a glance at Ian's wrists, bound to the headboard by
his own green tie, and isn't surprised in the least to see that Ian's dexterous
fingers making slow progress at undoing the first knot. It's always surprising
how much Ian likes to touch him, and how worked up he gets when it's
impossible. Seeing Ian's reddened wrists twisting and pulling against the
fabric in desperation to touch him makes Souji's already-uncomfortable pants
even tighter, and he can't help the blush beginning to rise. It's embarrassing
how even something like that can get to him; how Ian hasn't even touched him,
and yet he's already on the verge of coming inside his own damn pants.
It's a small blessing that Ian's distracted enough to not make fun of him, and
as Souji trails his tongue along the sharp outline of Ian's pelvic bone his
free hand quickly lowers to undo the button and zipper of his pants. There's a
sharp gasp from Ian in tune with the sound of the zipper lowering, and Souji's
blush intensifies at the realisation of how loud that was. Obviously Ian's now
aware of his situation, but – if his increased attempts to outright fuck
Souji's hand are any indication – it doesn't seem like the kind of thing he's
about to tease him for.
“Souji.” The way Ian says his name is different this time. It's still husky,
still low, still carrying that underlying promise to pin Souji against the wall
and make him forget his name next time—but it's also a request. Souji looks up,
tongue paused against Ian's hot skin, and Ian – god. His hair is damp with
sweat and clinging to his flushed face, his eyes are dark with passion and the
way he's looking at Souji is almost predatory. It sends a jolt of unexpected
pleasure straight through Souji, and he can feel himself twitch inside his
underwear.
Ian's tongue slides out, wetting his lips, and he swallows harshly. Souji's
tongue resumes, drawing a slow circle on the skin where Ian's pubic hair would
begin if he weren't so insistent about waxing it away, and he's treated to the
sight of Ian's chin tilting and his teeth closing on his bottom lip in
response. It takes a moment for him to regain himself (he has to swallow hard
again, Souji notices with satisfaction) but Souji is patient, his tongue being
replaced by a drag of his lips. If there's something that Ian wants to say,
then he'll let him say it.
“I want to watch.” Except that. Souji stills, lips still pressed against him,
and they don't need to have the eye contact that they do for Ian to see how
quickly the blush rises on Souji's face. That's—embarrassing, that's so
embarrassing and—dammit, Ian.
In a quick movement, Souji shifts and then his mouth is around Ian's cock,
sucking on him even as his fist tightens and pumps. Ian's choked gasp is a
clear indicator of his surprise, and again his back arches and his hips lift,
automatically trying to press as much of himself into Souji as possible.
It was a bad move on Souji's part, he realises belatedly, because the heady
taste of Ian on his tongue, the feel of his hard erection filling his mouth
just makes him whimper with how hard he is himself. And—well, Ian's never
laughed at him about this sort of thing before, and he said he wanted to watch,
and—fuck, fuck it.
It's almost shameful how quickly Souji's hand, the one not working the part of
Ian that he can't fit into his mouth, gets jammed into his pants to wrap around
his own erection. He can't help but moan around Ian, and there's a whimpered
word in—some language, Souji can't keep them straight at a time like this—and
the creak of the headboard gives away just how harshly Ian's pulling at his
restraints. Souji's quickly losing control of the situation; he wants Ian to
touch him – wants Ian's hands pulling at his hair and Ian's teeth on his neck;
wants Ian's fingers pressing inside of him, fucking him.
He pulls away from Ian's dick, panting, and his fist continues to pump him.
It's immediately obvious from a glance that Ian's lust-dark eyes are focused on
Souji's arm, and the movements it makes as he strokes himself. He really wasn't
lying when he said he wanted to watch, then, and again the blush heats Souji's
face. He doesn't stop, though. A part of him (the same part that imagines Ian
bending him over his school table, and the part that fantasises about sucking
him off from under the teacher's desk) is thrilled by the attention, by the
thought of Ian watching as he gets himself off.
He shifts again, rising to his knees with his hand still working himself inside
his underwear. He's never felt so vulnerable, so ridiculously inappropriate as
he does now, but the twitch of Ian's erection and his subsequent moan are
testament to the truth of his desire. Souji bites his lip hard, but it doesn't
stop his whimper and it feels really too good to be touching both of them at
the same time.
“Take them off.” Ian's voice is a husky croak, and Souji's hips roll in trained
response. That's usually the tone Ian takes when he's sliding into him,
whispering breathy words into his ear, and Souji's body has come to expect
amazing things whenever Ian begins to sound like that.
It's more difficult than it should be, to release himself and Ian for long
enough to push the fabric of his pants and underwear down off his hips. A gasp
escapes him as his erection is freed from the tight confines, and the way Ian's
gaze is almost intimidating with how intently he zeroes in on it. It's obvious
where his mind is; his lips parting and tongue quickly wetting them leave no
room for doubt, and somehow that action soothes some of Souji's self-conscious
doubt.
He has to stand, rising from Ian's bed to remove the clothing entirely, and
it's testament to how far gone he is that he just leaves them in a heap. He
wastes no time before he's back on the bed, straddling Ian's hips with his
hands gripping the sheets either side of him now rather than resting between
his knees. Ian jerks at the contact, and with a strangled moan he presses up.
Souji can feel his hard length pressing against his backside, and he's not even
aware of the quiet moan that he makes as he presses back against Ian. He slides
himself carefully down a few inches, until his cock is pressed against Ian's,
and his head instantly drops with a whimper at the pleasure of it. Their hips
roll in sync, and it's not long before one of Souji's trembling hands lifts
from the sheets to wrap around himself again. Ian said he wanted to watch,
so...
Souji's knuckles brush against Ian's cock with every stroke of himself, and he
knows that if Ian's mind weren't being unravelled by the teasing, that there
would be another frustrated glare in his direction. As it is Ian's head is
pressed back firmly against the pillow; his eyes are clenched shut and Souji
can tell, from the way the muscle in Ian's jaw is working, that he's trying
hard to not come from this.
It takes more willpower than he'll admit to still his hand, but Souji does it
anyway. He can only imagine how he looks right now; his shirt's still on, and
it's long enough that it brushes against his thighs with every movement. Ian
hasn't been able to touch his hair since they started, but Souji's sure it's
still ruffled and dishevelled, and he knows for a fact that last week's hickey
is still a vibrant bruise against his collarbone. With an appearance like that,
coupled with the fact that he was straddling Ian with his dick in his hand--
“I thought you said you wanted to watch.” His own throat is dry, and when Souji
swallows he can still taste Ian's semen on his tongue. It does nothing to help
his situation, but thankfully for once it seems Ian's much closer to the edge
than he is. It doesn't even take a second before Ian's eyes have snapped open,
and a second after that there's a hand on his hip – and Souji realises,
belatedly, that he'd forgotten to keep an eye on the progress Ian was making
with his tie.
A second after that and Ian's other hand is on him, the tie still wrapped
around it. Clearly Ian didn't care enough at that moment to remove it properly,
and in the next instant Souji feels the firm pressure of Ian's hands lifting
him and the world spins—and then the mattress is pressing against his back, and
Ian's mouth is on his, his tongue pressing in, and Souji doesn't know when he
got it but there's the unmistakable sound of the lube being opened. His legs
spread instantly and he moans around Ian's tongue, and Souji doesn't have it
within himself to be embarrassed about making noises before he's even touched.
Ian's mouth is like fire and his lips are like electricity, sending sparks
through Souji. His own tongue presses against Ian's firmly, sliding along it
and pressing it back in a bid for dominance. Ian is having none of it, though –
his teeth close sharply against Souji's tongue, admonishing him, and the
desperate moan that Souji gives when Ian's teeth scrape along his tongue is
nothing compared to the noise he makes when Ian's fingers, slick with lube,
suddenly press against him.
Souji's not sure if it's him pressing back against Ian's fingers so firmly that
does it, but there's no time wasted before he feels the first finger sliding
into him. He whimpers Ian's name against his mouth, rolling his hips and then
there's the second finger, stretching him, and Souji's back arches instantly
with a gasp. Ian's free hand rises, tangling in Souji's hair and pulling to
force him to turn his head to the side. His lips leave his to kiss hungrily
along his jaw, to his neck where he bites hard at the same time his fingers
curl inside of him, and Souji's cry of his name is as involuntary as it is
satisfying.
Ian's fingers leave him, then, and Souji chokes on a plea because no, Ian—keep
going, he needs to feel that but thank god this is not one of the times Ian
suddenly decides to slow down the pace to tease him. Instead, Ian's arm hooks
under Souji's leg, raising it to rest his ankle on his shoulder, and Souji
allows it eagerly. It's not a second later that Ian's finally pressing into
him, and Souji's hands instantly find themselves gripping Ian's hair, pulling
him back to his mouth for another hot, begging kiss.
It feels good, so good to have Ian inside of him. There's the small pull of
discomfort, of course, from being filled, but Souji couldn't care less about
it. Ian's usual considerate disposition seems to be shot, because he doesn't
wait before pulling his hips back and slamming into him. Souji's hands tighten
in his hair and Ian moans so deeply against his mouth that it's almost a growl,
and even that is nothing to compared to Souji's volume. Ian sets a fast pace,
fucking Souji in a way he's never done before. It's brutal, animalistic, and
Souji's going to hurt like hell in the morning but fuck if it doesn't feel
amazing.
He doesn't feel Ian's arm shifting around his thigh, but he sure does feel
Ian's slim fingers wrapping around his cock and it's so impossibly good. Ian's
hand is tight in his hair, fingers firmly entangled in brown strands, and the
pain of it heightens Souji's senses a ridiculous amount. He's pushing back
against Ian in time with his thrusts, practically fucking himself, and Ian's
name is a constant stream spilling from his lips. Every inch of his body is on
fire, and as always he can feel his melody raising in strength, curling and
singing with Ian's until all his soul consists of is them.
It's no surprise when Souji feels that familiar tight warmth running through
him, when his muscles tense and he chokes on Ian's name. His orgasm is almost
blinding with its intensity, his back arching and his entire body tensing as
the pleasure overtakes him. He barely hears Ian's groan of his name, hardly
feels the hot pleasure of Ian releasing inside of him over the incredible waves
of sexual bliss.
It seems to last forever, his orgasm, and when Souji finally rides it out
enough to take a gasping breath he's dizzy from the experience. Ian's barely
doing any better; his forehead is pressed against Souji's shoulder and he's
panting heavily, and it takes Souji a moment to realise he's shaking.
His hands, now limp in Ian's hair, slide down to rest against the back of his
neck. They lay like that for some time, regaining their breath, and it seems
that Ian's just as beyond words as Souji is because after a few minutes he
shifts; he pulls out from Souji carefully (and there's a small moan from Souji
at the sensation of it – god, why does it always feel so good) and lowers his
leg back to the bed without saying a single thing. Ian's still shaking when he
raises himself up enough for his trembling fingers to undo the last remaining
buttons of Souji's shirt, and obediently Souji raises himself enough that Ian
can slide it off of him.
For once, he doesn't complain about how Ian uses his shirt to wipe away the
mess from their stomachs (it's always his shirt. Ian's never once used his own
clothing to clean them up, the bastard) or about how he tosses it carelessly on
the floor. Instead, he wriggles himself to remove the blanket from underneath
their bodies, and when Ian lays on him again he works to cover them both.
It's only due to a year or so of practice that they're able to quickly arrange
themselves into the best position to enjoy their afterglow. Souji's arms wrap
around Ian's shoulders, holding him close just as Ian's arm rests around his
waist. Ian's ankle hooks around Souji's, entwining their legs, and against
Souji's back Ian's fingers lazily draw nonsense pictures.
This is by far one of Souji's favourite parts of sex. The teasing, the pleasure
– of course they were amazing, of course he enjoyed them. But being able to lay
here with Ian, both of them utterly and blissfully relaxed...
There's a small smile on his lips when he presses them to Ian's in a languid
kiss, and Souji knows he's not imagining feeling an answering smile pressing
back.
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