( It's unfortunate, that these reactions are cute, that the ripping of the seat is a little sexy, that any of these things could have been a little more fun if it weren't Toma here beneath him. Being called annoying is laughable, when he's squirming like he is, when he's clearly holding back his sounds, but it still manages to get under his skin.
So in a way, this is still fun. He enjoys watching Toma struggle, staying calm above him, stroking him in a way that increases that tension only to slow his hand and pause, finger pressed over the slit of his head, like he has to consider even continuing. He's toying with him, of course. )
Annoying? ( His mouth closes over a nipple again, teeth just barely grazing sensitive skin before dragging the flat of his tongue over it. He pulls back after that, so he can truly look down at the other, wiggling his finger to drive that building pressure to unbearable levels.
His eyes narrow, because he's trying not to get too into this himself. The goal here is to give a handjob, but there's still a little pleasure to be gained just from watching this. )
So are you. So should I stop, then? ( The smallest pinch at his throbbing tip. Really... what makes him want to tease someone who just gripped a hole into the seat? ) Right here?
[Keeping quiet is getting increasingly, infuriatingly difficult as Esikko goes - and it may be just through sheer force of spite that Toma feels almost triumphant when Esikko suddenly stops, frustrating as his body may find the sudden drop in stimulation.
Granted, that bit of unearned smugness is a little tough to maintain when Esikko - of course - continues to tease him. Dammit. Toma presses his hand tighter to his mouth, the muscles of his stomach tense as he tries to keep his breathing under control, to keep from gasping.]
F-feel free-- [A soft sound, despite himself, at the sudden pinch. Worse still, he can feel the too-familiar sting of tears building. For fuck's sake. Well, it still won't stop him from scoffing at Esikko's threat.] --Feel free, if you're alright just staying here.
( He squeezes a little more, like he's fully prepared to give Toma blueballs in the middle of this ferris wheel attraction. His body leans closer, eyes narrowing like it's a challenge, and his other hand moves to splay flat across Toma's chest. His other hand teases a little, a small stroke cut off by another squeeze. )
This is fine, then? You're that stubborn?
( He is absolutely watching those eyes get watery. )
[Prideful though he may be, Toma is not above discarding that pride if the situation calls for it - be that feigning acquiescence to appease a so-called comrade, or slicing off his hair to beg a swordsman he can't stand to train him.
This, however, is not one of those situations. Absolutely not, no way, he refuses.
So, despite those tears, and a small, involuntary twitch as Esikko squeezes him again:] Try me.
[This is fine and not ridiculous at all. If Esikko insists on keeping this up, he'll just be wasting his own time too, anyway.]
( ...Huh. The tears are kind of nice to witness, even if his attitude is annoying as hell. He wants to break him for it, if only to show he can, if only as some sort of payback, for making Dabi hurt himself like he did.
So his hand moves again, but in tortuous little strokes, at first. )
That would be boring. So I'll draw it out, then. Since you don't mind waiting.
( Since he won't beg for it, in other words, he's absolutely going to edge him like crazy. His hand strokes, faster, harder, uneven and unpredictable, and each time he feels him getting close to climax, he squeezes to stop it, fingers wrapping tight, watching his expression. His opposite hand stays flat on Toma's chest, as if it could help keep him in place, as if he's not voluntarily holding back. )
[Absolute pain in the ass-- well. Pain in the dick, more accurately.
The point is: This absolutely sucks, but there is no way Toma is conceding here. He's held out through worse things than bad sex, after all.
So he stays as stubbornly still and quiet as he can - which, granted, is a diminishing quantity, but he's sure still trying. He focuses in, as much as he can, on his breathing - keeping it as steady as possible. It's like a Taisoku training exercise. Kind of.
Treating it as a particularly difficult breathing exercise, though, only helps so much; Toma may be stubborn as hell, may be determinedly pouring concentration into each individual breath, but his body is not interested in ignoring Esikko's agonizingly inconsistent touch. Despite his own will, his hips jerk under Esikko's hand, at the painful throb each time he starts and stops.
A shudder verging on a sob interrupts his carefully-measured breaths. He presses his hands, fingers laced together, over his eyes, his cheeks too warm under his palms. This is fine!! He'll get bored eventually!!!]
( ...This was supposed to be fun, and there is something nice about seeing Toma cry and jerk and gasp from his own actions.
But it only goes so far. Esikko sighs, and the sigh is heavy enough to make his next actions clearly pointed. He slides his palm away from Toma's chest, withdrawing it as his other hand works harder. Faster, and this time without stopping, he urges him to chase that rising feeling without preventing him this time. And whenever he comes, so long as he does, Esikko continues his strokes afterwards, slowing only to be sure that he doesn't overstimulate in the sensitive afterglow, smearing mess without a care.
That care immediately vanishes the moment things are calm, and when he pulls his hand back, he wipes it with a huff across Toma's kimono. He is absolutely not giving him any credit for his stubbornness!! Not a word!! )
[There is no reason to be as smug as Toma is, even past the tears and shuddering and aggressive focus, at that sigh.
Not long to think about that, though, when Esikko's hand starts moving faster - and, as Toma realizes with a faint thrill despite himself, doesn't stop this time. The fact that he's still halfway braced for Esikko to stop short again anyway, despite all signs to the contrary, only means the orgasm itself hits harder; even having worked to keep quiet all this time, he cries out unsteadily when he comes, shuddering as Esikko strokes through it.
There are a few moments of quiet, except for the click of the lock and Toma's unsteady breathing. Then he pulls in a deeper breath and mumbles:] Asshole.
[Whether that was about the edging or the jizz smeared deliberately on his clothes, he will not be elaborating. He scrubs away the tears drying on his cheeks and sits up with some effort, peering out the window - checking how high up they are, and how long he has to put himself back together before they reach the platform and get the hell out.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
just put it in his namefield at this point
So in a way, this is still fun. He enjoys watching Toma struggle, staying calm above him, stroking him in a way that increases that tension only to slow his hand and pause, finger pressed over the slit of his head, like he has to consider even continuing. He's toying with him, of course. )
Annoying? ( His mouth closes over a nipple again, teeth just barely grazing sensitive skin before dragging the flat of his tongue over it. He pulls back after that, so he can truly look down at the other, wiggling his finger to drive that building pressure to unbearable levels.
His eyes narrow, because he's trying not to get too into this himself. The goal here is to give a handjob, but there's still a little pleasure to be gained just from watching this. )
So are you. So should I stop, then? ( The smallest pinch at his throbbing tip. Really... what makes him want to tease someone who just gripped a hole into the seat? ) Right here?
no subject
Granted, that bit of unearned smugness is a little tough to maintain when Esikko - of course - continues to tease him. Dammit. Toma presses his hand tighter to his mouth, the muscles of his stomach tense as he tries to keep his breathing under control, to keep from gasping.]
F-feel free-- [A soft sound, despite himself, at the sudden pinch. Worse still, he can feel the too-familiar sting of tears building. For fuck's sake. Well, it still won't stop him from scoffing at Esikko's threat.] --Feel free, if you're alright just staying here.
no subject
( He squeezes a little more, like he's fully prepared to give Toma blueballs in the middle of this ferris wheel attraction. His body leans closer, eyes narrowing like it's a challenge, and his other hand moves to splay flat across Toma's chest. His other hand teases a little, a small stroke cut off by another squeeze. )
This is fine, then? You're that stubborn?
( He is absolutely watching those eyes get watery. )
no subject
This, however, is not one of those situations. Absolutely not, no way, he refuses.
So, despite those tears, and a small, involuntary twitch as Esikko squeezes him again:] Try me.
[This is fine and not ridiculous at all. If Esikko insists on keeping this up, he'll just be wasting his own time too, anyway.]
no subject
So his hand moves again, but in tortuous little strokes, at first. )
That would be boring. So I'll draw it out, then. Since you don't mind waiting.
( Since he won't beg for it, in other words, he's absolutely going to edge him like crazy. His hand strokes, faster, harder, uneven and unpredictable, and each time he feels him getting close to climax, he squeezes to stop it, fingers wrapping tight, watching his expression. His opposite hand stays flat on Toma's chest, as if it could help keep him in place, as if he's not voluntarily holding back. )
no subject
The point is: This absolutely sucks, but there is no way Toma is conceding here. He's held out through worse things than bad sex, after all.
So he stays as stubbornly still and quiet as he can - which, granted, is a diminishing quantity, but he's sure still trying. He focuses in, as much as he can, on his breathing - keeping it as steady as possible. It's like a Taisoku training exercise. Kind of.
Treating it as a particularly difficult breathing exercise, though, only helps so much; Toma may be stubborn as hell, may be determinedly pouring concentration into each individual breath, but his body is not interested in ignoring Esikko's agonizingly inconsistent touch. Despite his own will, his hips jerk under Esikko's hand, at the painful throb each time he starts and stops.
A shudder verging on a sob interrupts his carefully-measured breaths. He presses his hands, fingers laced together, over his eyes, his cheeks too warm under his palms. This is fine!! He'll get bored eventually!!!]
no subject
But it only goes so far. Esikko sighs, and the sigh is heavy enough to make his next actions clearly pointed. He slides his palm away from Toma's chest, withdrawing it as his other hand works harder. Faster, and this time without stopping, he urges him to chase that rising feeling without preventing him this time. And whenever he comes, so long as he does, Esikko continues his strokes afterwards, slowing only to be sure that he doesn't overstimulate in the sensitive afterglow, smearing mess without a care.
That care immediately vanishes the moment things are calm, and when he pulls his hand back, he wipes it with a huff across Toma's kimono. He is absolutely not giving him any credit for his stubbornness!! Not a word!! )
no subject
Not long to think about that, though, when Esikko's hand starts moving faster - and, as Toma realizes with a faint thrill despite himself, doesn't stop this time. The fact that he's still halfway braced for Esikko to stop short again anyway, despite all signs to the contrary, only means the orgasm itself hits harder; even having worked to keep quiet all this time, he cries out unsteadily when he comes, shuddering as Esikko strokes through it.
There are a few moments of quiet, except for the click of the lock and Toma's unsteady breathing. Then he pulls in a deeper breath and mumbles:] Asshole.
[Whether that was about the edging or the jizz smeared deliberately on his clothes, he will not be elaborating. He scrubs away the tears drying on his cheeks and sits up with some effort, peering out the window - checking how high up they are, and how long he has to put himself back together before they reach the platform and get the hell out.]