[It'd be fun someday to see how long Koby could maintain that brief instant of control -- which is a dangerous thought, someday, but Koby is far too caught up in pleasure to care. But the second he has Mihawk's hands on his face, Mihawk's mouth sealed to his, Koby doesn't regret surrendering so quickly. He moans into that deep, hungry kiss, hands going up to grip onto Mihawk's devastatingly broad shoulders for stability. And also maybe because Koby really likes Mihawk's shoulders.
Then those hands are sliding down his back, lighting every nerve ending on fire, gripping his hips and lifting him like he weighs nothing. The loss of Mihawk's cock inside him gets an annoyed whimpering sound, which pitches up suddenly into an almost-scream when it's suddenly driven back in, to the hilt. It's so much, so deep, the angle punishing and amazing and overwhelming.
Koby leans back a bit, expression stunned and delighted, clearly completely in awe of the new feeling. Sometimes his inexperience shows, the reminder that every time they try something new, it's the first time. Still shivering, breathless, Koby manages a shaky smile, eyes bright and hungry.] D-Do that again.
(Koby's reaction is better than the sex itself. Not that it doesn't feel incredible, but the way Koby lights up is far more addictive. Mihawk was a bit of a glutton for making Koby feel good. He can't help the slight smile that grows on his face in response to Koby's gleaming grin. How can he not smile back?)
Anything you want.
(Which he means more sincerely than he even knew. But he's not thinking about that right now. Right now, he's focused on lifting Koby back up and slamming him back down. Up, down, up, down. He moves his hips up to make the impact all that more prominent when he pulls Koby down. It doesn't take long before he's fucking Koby hard and fast, using him not too unlike a full-bodied toy. It's almost relentless, his grip bruisingly tight on Koby's hips, no doubt leaving marks that would last for some time.)
[Koby's not thinking about it either -- not that slight smile that'll live in his mind for probably the rest of his life, not the words and what they might mean. He's only thinking about how Mihawk immediately gives him what he wants, the punishing, bruising, deep thrusts that are rapidly becoming Koby's number one addiction. He'd never thought a lot about sex before, but now the idea of not having it on the near-daily seems foreign.
Specifically, not having it with Mihawk. Another thing to think about later.
Right now he just focuses on hooking his arms around Mihawk's neck, claws dug into his back, leaving more scratches -- he's never left this many before, that's either going to be annoying or something Mihawk likes. Koby definitely likes the marks, the patchwork of them across his throat, the handprints over his hips, anything that helps him feel Mihawk when he's not there.
It's building too fast, prompted by Koby's own teasing, the new position, the way Mihawk can thrust up relentlessly and punishing and so, so deep. It's almost a disappointment when Koby's soft, pleading moans rise up into a choked-off gasping sound, when he comes hard, burying his face against Mihawk's neck and shuddering around him. Because that means it's almost over. He's almost gone.
It comes out soft, possibly inaudible against Mihawk's throat, possibly lost in the sound of the warlord's own climax whenever it comes:] Stay.
(Mihawk had grown spoiled from their exploits as well. And that would only worsen the more often they had it. The more he learned what Koby liked, the more he learned about how to make him smile and laugh, things that really had nothing to do with sex. Yet he would ignore that for now and figure it was just an easy way to keep Koby coming back to him.
That and railing Koby so hard he would feel him for a long while after.
The scratches make his skin crawl pleasantly. Normally any mark on a swordsman's back was an insult, but these marks may as well be badges of honor. Proof of a job well done. He comes soon after Koby, buckling up into him, a breathless groan easing out of him as he pumps Koby full.
He rolls his hips to milk out his orgasm, and it's only then that he realizes how hard he is holding Koby. He pants quietly, processing the command. He nods, squeezing Koby tighter. Then he leans back, pulling Koby with him which winds up with him sliding out of Koby along the way.
Once down, he grabs Koby by the face and brings their lips together. It's a slower kiss, not one to try and initiate another fucking, but just one to feel Koby.)
[The nod could very well be for something else entirely -- Koby will be the first one to admit that he sort of loses all track of linear thought when Mihawk's fucking him. So he rides it out, panting and shuddering and squeezing around the pirate's cock spilling inside him, savoring it as always -- he may be spoiled, but Koby doesn't take anything for granted.
When they move, there's a soft hiss of oversensitivity blended with soreness -- Koby definitely going to feel tonight for a good long while. He leans up into that kiss, breathless and shivering through the aftershocks, one hand sliding to tangle in Mihawk's hair.
And he remembers to ask again, in that hazy, warm moment, before he loses his nerve:] Stay. Just. Just for a little. Just til I'm asleep. [That's not enough, not really, it's not what Koby really wants, but he can't ask for forever, he can't ask to wake up like this, wrapped in Mihawk's arms. But maybe this much is okay. Maybe he's allowed that.
Koby leans back, eyes soft and open and full of that raw, uncomplicated wanting. He twines Mihawk's hair around his fingers, settles warm and pliant against him. Asks one more time:] Please. Stay.
(It had been to agree to stay, but he can hardly fault Koby for asking again. He looks at Koby as their kiss breaks and Koby begs for him to stay. There could be a dozen reasons why Koby might want to stay, but Mihawk doesn't let himself speculate.
He could never say no to that look on Koby's face. He couldn't even feign disinterest. There's something softening the edges of his own face. He settles against the bed, looking back at Koby, silently memorizing the way he looked.)
I'll stay.
(He kisses Koby again, soft, brief. He had nowhere else he needed to be and nowhere else he wanted to be.)
[Perhaps it's a good thing that Koby's too sleepy and fucked out to read anything into that softness. All he cares about is the agreement -- Mihawk says he'll stay, so he will. Koby will second guess and question a lot of things, but by now, Mihawk's word isn't one of them.
So he relaxes, smiling against Mihawk's lips, leaning up for a couple more of those brief, warm kisses, then settling with his head tucked under the warlord's chin. He doesn't know if it's the unusually long talk they'd had, the way he'd opened up to Mihawk, the stupid little messages filling his notebook, but whatever the reason, the man is staying. Even if it's only for an hour, he's there.
Later, Koby will recognize this moment for what it is, the looming danger of the situation coming to a head as he catches his breath in Mihawk's arms. He'll know that's when it was too late for him, when he was well and truly lost.
He'll deal with that when it comes, though. Right now he's safe, he's sore, he's exhausted and held and happy like he hasn't been in years. One hand absently traces over the claw marks he's left around Mihawk's heart -- ironic, in their way.] Thank you.
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Then those hands are sliding down his back, lighting every nerve ending on fire, gripping his hips and lifting him like he weighs nothing. The loss of Mihawk's cock inside him gets an annoyed whimpering sound, which pitches up suddenly into an almost-scream when it's suddenly driven back in, to the hilt. It's so much, so deep, the angle punishing and amazing and overwhelming.
Koby leans back a bit, expression stunned and delighted, clearly completely in awe of the new feeling. Sometimes his inexperience shows, the reminder that every time they try something new, it's the first time. Still shivering, breathless, Koby manages a shaky smile, eyes bright and hungry.] D-Do that again.
no subject
Anything you want.
(Which he means more sincerely than he even knew. But he's not thinking about that right now. Right now, he's focused on lifting Koby back up and slamming him back down. Up, down, up, down. He moves his hips up to make the impact all that more prominent when he pulls Koby down. It doesn't take long before he's fucking Koby hard and fast, using him not too unlike a full-bodied toy. It's almost relentless, his grip bruisingly tight on Koby's hips, no doubt leaving marks that would last for some time.)
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Specifically, not having it with Mihawk. Another thing to think about later.
Right now he just focuses on hooking his arms around Mihawk's neck, claws dug into his back, leaving more scratches -- he's never left this many before, that's either going to be annoying or something Mihawk likes. Koby definitely likes the marks, the patchwork of them across his throat, the handprints over his hips, anything that helps him feel Mihawk when he's not there.
It's building too fast, prompted by Koby's own teasing, the new position, the way Mihawk can thrust up relentlessly and punishing and so, so deep. It's almost a disappointment when Koby's soft, pleading moans rise up into a choked-off gasping sound, when he comes hard, burying his face against Mihawk's neck and shuddering around him. Because that means it's almost over. He's almost gone.
It comes out soft, possibly inaudible against Mihawk's throat, possibly lost in the sound of the warlord's own climax whenever it comes:] Stay.
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That and railing Koby so hard he would feel him for a long while after.
The scratches make his skin crawl pleasantly. Normally any mark on a swordsman's back was an insult, but these marks may as well be badges of honor. Proof of a job well done. He comes soon after Koby, buckling up into him, a breathless groan easing out of him as he pumps Koby full.
He rolls his hips to milk out his orgasm, and it's only then that he realizes how hard he is holding Koby. He pants quietly, processing the command. He nods, squeezing Koby tighter. Then he leans back, pulling Koby with him which winds up with him sliding out of Koby along the way.
Once down, he grabs Koby by the face and brings their lips together. It's a slower kiss, not one to try and initiate another fucking, but just one to feel Koby.)
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When they move, there's a soft hiss of oversensitivity blended with soreness -- Koby definitely going to feel tonight for a good long while. He leans up into that kiss, breathless and shivering through the aftershocks, one hand sliding to tangle in Mihawk's hair.
And he remembers to ask again, in that hazy, warm moment, before he loses his nerve:] Stay. Just. Just for a little. Just til I'm asleep. [That's not enough, not really, it's not what Koby really wants, but he can't ask for forever, he can't ask to wake up like this, wrapped in Mihawk's arms. But maybe this much is okay. Maybe he's allowed that.
Koby leans back, eyes soft and open and full of that raw, uncomplicated wanting. He twines Mihawk's hair around his fingers, settles warm and pliant against him. Asks one more time:] Please. Stay.
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He could never say no to that look on Koby's face. He couldn't even feign disinterest. There's something softening the edges of his own face. He settles against the bed, looking back at Koby, silently memorizing the way he looked.)
I'll stay.
(He kisses Koby again, soft, brief. He had nowhere else he needed to be and nowhere else he wanted to be.)
As long as you allow.
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So he relaxes, smiling against Mihawk's lips, leaning up for a couple more of those brief, warm kisses, then settling with his head tucked under the warlord's chin. He doesn't know if it's the unusually long talk they'd had, the way he'd opened up to Mihawk, the stupid little messages filling his notebook, but whatever the reason, the man is staying. Even if it's only for an hour, he's there.
Later, Koby will recognize this moment for what it is, the looming danger of the situation coming to a head as he catches his breath in Mihawk's arms. He'll know that's when it was too late for him, when he was well and truly lost.
He'll deal with that when it comes, though. Right now he's safe, he's sore, he's exhausted and held and happy like he hasn't been in years. One hand absently traces over the claw marks he's left around Mihawk's heart -- ironic, in their way.] Thank you.