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Lazy Bastard	By : Raceysama Category: Bleach > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 2831 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, nor do I make any profit from these works......

Chapter List
- 1-Lazy Bastard
- 1
LAZY BASTARD
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach...
Onwards...
XOXOXOXO
Ichigo loved his university, he loved his major - Political Science - but he especially loved his English class. Why, you ask? In his English class was the most beautiful man to ever walk the Earth...and he wasn't the professor. He was a student, just like Ichigo.
They borrowed pens from one another from time to time, and once they even worked together on a paper. The man was laidback, almost to the point of laziness, and he rarely spoke, but when he did, Ichigo would vibrate like a goddamned tuning fork.
The guy was tall, maybe around 6'2", had shoulder-length, brown, wavy hair and sultry gray eyes. He was built like a swimmer, and had the sexiest smile Ichigo had ever seen that side of Karakura.
His name was Stark Coyote.
And Ichigo had the hugest crush on the man.
It was currently November, well into the school year, and although he and Stark were on pretty friendly terms, he still hadn't gathered the courage to tell the incredibly sexy brunet how he felt about him.
Ichigo stalked into the classroom, returning from a trip to the bathroom, while clutching the strap to his black messenger bag containing his laptop. He glanced out the window and sighed.
It was still snowing. The snow had been coming down steadily since that morning, and he'd thought classes would be cancelled for the day, but nooo. Stupid administrators. Here it was 5:30 in the evening, thick snow completely covering the ground, yet they still kept the university open.
Ah, well, at least he'd be able to see Stark.
Ichigo's schedule was fairly simple for the week. Mondays and Wednesdays he had Computers from 2:00 pm to 3:15 pm, then English from 5:30 pm to 6:45 pm. Tuesdays and Thursdays he had Political Science from 12:00 pm to 1:15 pm, and Math from 2:00 pm to 4:15 pm.
He hated Math with an unnatural passion. The professor was a jerk, the class was completely boring, and for the life of him, he couldn't understand why the hell that damned class was longer than any of his others, especially his majoring class.
The only saving grace in his Math class was the handsome blunet that sat across from him. Grimmjow Jaegerjaques. He was another gorgeous guy. He was tall, maybe 6'1", with bright blue hair and ocean-blue eyes. He was built like a brick wall and had the most blunt personality Ichigo had ever encountered. Most people were afraid of him, but he thought the guy was funny as hell. It didn't hurt that he wasn't bad to look at either.
However, Ichigo preferred Stark's laidback personality to Grimmjow's confrontational one.
Shaking his head, Ichigo settled into his usual seat at the back of the class, slinging the strap of his messenger bag over the back of the chair. He noticed Stark wasn't in his usual spot in front of him and felt disappointment creeping over him.
Maybe Stark wasn't coming to class today. It would be just like him. He'd probably claim traveling in the snow was too troublesome. Inwardly chuckling, Ichigo agreed. He propped his head on his hand, elbow resting on the desk as he glared at the clock. Without Stark in class, he'd be beyond bored. At least with the gorgeous brunet sitting in front of him, he had something - or rather someone - to daydream about.
The professor, a tall blond with a strange fashion sense, ambled into the classroom, glancing at the clock above the door before plunking a large green bag onto the metal desk at the front of the class. Ichigo frowned at Urahara-sensei's outfit, wondering what the hell was on the eccentric older man's mind. It had to be freezing outside, not to mention fucking snowing like it was going out of style, yet the blond wore an olive-green, long-sleeved, v-neck tunic over a beige v-neck shirt, matching green linen pants, and here was the kicker...wooden sandals.
Urahara-sensei pulled the green and beige striped bucket hat he wore from his head, blond hair gleaming under the flourescent lighting of the classroom, placed it carefully on the desk, then withdrew a paper fan from the left sleeve of his tunic. He glanced at the clock again and nodded, a bright, cheerful grin creasing his features.
Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Stark entered the classroom, looking downright edible and making Ichigo's heart leap into his throat. The tall brunet wore a gray pea coat with a black scarf wrapped around his neck, dark-blue jeans and black motorcycle boots. He had a black messenger bag strapped across his chest, and wore a pair of black leather gloves.
Ichigo nearly swooned right out of his seat.
"Ah, Stark-san, nice of you to join us!" Urahara-sensei greeted happily.
Stark sighed heavily as he passed the blond, and made his way towards the desk in front of Ichigo, "Snow is so troublesome," his deep baritone echoed through the silent classroom. Ichigo swore he saw a couple of chicks seated at the front of the class go starry-eyed. He wouldn't have been surprised to see little pink hearts floating around them.
Stark eased gracefully into his seat after removing his messenger bag. Ichigo's eyes were riveted to the object of his desire as the taller man took his coat, scarf and gloves off, revealing a black and gray sweater and the tanned skin of his neck and hands.
Could one die of sex appeal overload? If so, he was about to be six feet under, nothing but a mound of dirt and the cliched lily left to remember him by.
Suddenly, Stark turned in his seat to face Ichigo, enticing lips pulled into a lazy smirk, "Yo, Ichigo, ya got a pen I can borrow?"
Ichigo lost himself for a moment in Stark's smoky gray eyes, mouth unconsciously opening slightly. Stark raised a dark, perfectly sculpted brow, smirk deepening as he lifted a large hand and snapped in Ichigo's face.
Huh?
"You said something?" Ichigo asked in horror.
Oh god, please tell him he didn't just make an epic ASS of himself in front of his crush!
The brunet chuckled, the throaty rumble strumming Ichigo's heartstrings like a guitar pick. Stark pushed the same hand he'd used to get Ichigo's attention through his wavy locks and blew out a tired sigh.
"I asked if you had a pen I could borrow. I was in a hurry and forgot to bring one," Stark's voice trailed off, turning into "wahn-wahn-wahn...wahn-wahn-wahn", like Charlie Brown's teacher, as Ichigo stared at those perfectly full, soft-looking lips.
Stark could borrow him. He wouldn't mind that at all.
Coming to his senses, Ichigo shook his head a bit to clear it, then dug through his messenger bag for the extra writing utensil. When he passed the black pen off, Stark's fingers lightly trailed over his, pausing just long enough to lock gazes, before the man turned to face forward again.
What was that? No, no, what the hell was that?
Ichigo's entire body tingled from the contact. Stark's fingers had been marginally rough, but really warm.
Uwaaahh...
The rest of the class ticked by slowly, Ichigo hardly paying attention to anything Urahara-sensei said. His mind was helplessly focused on the brunet seated in front of him, currently smelling like sandalwood and soap.
Absolutely lovely.
He glanced out the window and sighed at the prospect of walking through all of that snow to the train station. Now, of all times, he wished he'd taken his old man's car.
Fuck.
XOXOXOXO
Snow was so troublesome.
He almost hadn't even bothered coming to class, but changed his mind in the end. He had one very intriguing reason to attend class in over a foot of snow, and it sat behind him with bright orange hair and chestnut eyes.
Ichigo Kurosaki.
Ichigo had become a point of curiosity for Stark ever since the beginning of the school year, when the orange-haired youth had openly admired him the entire class. At first, he had found it to be incredibly amusing, maybe even a tiny bit entertaining, until he'd realized the sex appeal Ichigo hid under mountains of nerd-ism.
The kid's smile did strange things to Stark's nether regions. Brown eyes would shimmer and crinkle in the corners whenever Ichigo let loose one of his rare smiles, and he had the softest looking lips.
And he hid that marvelous body under such stiff, preppy clothing, but Stark managed to get a glimpse over summer break, when he'd seen Ichigo at the beach with an older dark-haired man and two younger girls. He assumed they were his family, since he himself had been dragged along by his little sister Lilinette.
Troublesome little sister.
She loved to argue and force him to the most mundane activities. For instance: cooking. Surprisingly, he was really good at it, but it took time that he would rather use to sleep or just laze about.
Oh yes, he was notoriously lazy. He would admit it.
He was capable of being serious, and had even been MVP of his old high school's wrestling club, but Stark just didn't prefer to be active when he deemed it unnecessary, although, he took his school work seriously. He did have to provide for Lilinette, since their parents died while he was still in high school, and that meant maintaining good grades until he graduated and pursued his career choice of being a high school English teacher. Strange choice, but the English language interested him a lot.
But back to Ichigo's body, yes?
The scowling young man was around 5'9" and had a lithe build. He wasn't bulky, but he was subtly solid. Sleek. Absolutely enticing. His legs seemed to go on forever and Stark could only imagine them wrapped around his wa-
Huhn.
Dangerous thinking in the middle of a class. It would definitely be troublesome sporting a lead pipe in his jeans while being lectured. Not to mention, Urahara-sensei seemed to notice or be aware of EVERYTHING.
Stark couldn't help himself, though. Ichigo was so alluring and he didn't even realize it. He supposed that was better than the kid being an arrogant little prat, but still...how could one be so attractive and not seem to care or even acknowledge it?
He thanked his lucky stars that he didn't have to go through the troublesome process of figuring out whether Ichigo liked men or not, since the younger man stared at him enough to banish any smidgen of doubt. Ichigo would openly gape at him, and whether he did it purposely, Stark didn't know, nor did he really care.
He wanted that tempting strawberry like he wanted sleep.
After arriving to class, he'd taken his usual seat in front of Ichigo, removed his winterwear, retrieved his notebook from his bag, then realized he hadn't even brought a pen. No biggie, he'd just borrow from the orange head. Turning slowly, he had stated his question, and had nearly come undone by the look in Ichigo's eye, which in itself was no mere feat.
The younger man's eyes were absolutely clouded with lust and hooded with desire, a soft pink tinge to his cheeks. Stark had to force himself not to behave other than his usual persona, by leaping over the desk between them and doing all the dirty things he only dreamed about doing to Ichigo.
He'd caught the unfocused strawberry's attention by snapping in his face, effectively bringing him back down to Earth for the time being. Stark had been flattered, but now with his ego stroked, he really wanted to play with Ichigo.
In a daze, Ichigo had handed him a black pen, and Stark had been unable to resist running his fingers over the younger man's just to draw out a reaction. And what a nice reaction it had been. Even as he sat facing forward, taking occasional notes during Urahara-sensei's lecture, he could still feel Ichigo's eyes on him, not to mention, remember that bright red blush the kid wore when their fingers touched.
His groin stirred, making him suck his teeth lowly in annoyance.
Troublesome.
XOXOXOXO
Ichigo absently gathered his notebook and stuffed it back into his messenger bag. Class was over and now he had to rush to the train station in what looked like at least two feet of snow.
Crap.
He'd had his twice a week fix of his brunet crush, although he hated to leave, he really wanted to get home before the snow piled any higher. He rushed from the classroom and had almost made it through the glass doors leading outside, when a large hand grasped his shoulder. It wasn't rough, but it was urgent enough to get Ichigo to turn almost right away.
Stark stood behind him, using his free hand to rub the back of his neck, "Ichigo, you left your pen," he rumbled.
His mouth fell open slightly, as it always did whenever he was in close proximity to Stark, and all he could do was stare stupidly. He'd managed to push the door open a little and a gusty, icy wind swirled inside, wrapping itself around Ichigo's legs, and tousling his hair.
"You didn't have to come all this way for a pen," he numbly answered, eyeing the taller man.
Stark shrugged and gave a lazy smirk, "S'ok. Oi, you need a ride home?"
Ichigo felt his breath leave his lungs without a trace, or as much as a goodbye. S-Stark, his crush, was offering him a ride home? Whatever he'd done to deserve this stroke of awesomely good fortune, he wanted to do it again and again, until the gods grew tired of him.
"U-uh, you sure...you don't mind?" He needed to be one hundred percent positive that his brain hadn't run away from him.
Stark sighed, then pushed the slightly ajar door completely open, "Wouldn't it be more bothersome to make an offer I didn't mean?" he asked, waiting for Ichigo to leave the building.
He stepped outside, the frigid winter winds laced with fat snowflakes whipped across his face, stinging his ears and nose. It was pitch black even though it was only seven in the evening. Of course winter shortened the daylight hours, which sucked in his opinion.
Ichigo stepped aside on the narrow cement path trailing towards the student parking lot, to allow Stark to lead the way to his car. He smiled inwardly.
Perhaps this was a sign? Was this fate's way of kicking his ass into motion? And if so, should he take advantage of it?
Ichigo was afraid of rejection, of course, but if there was even a sliver of a chance that the brunet wouldn't shun him or sneer at him, then he would swallow his damned pride and go for broke. He followed Stark to the third row of the six row parking lot, where the taller man stopped at a gun-metal gray, 2004 Honda Accord, and unlocked the doors. As soon as Ichigo heard the soft "snick" of the locks releasing, he jumped in the car, rubbing his hands together, eager for some warmth.
Just that small trek had been enough to chill him to the bone, and he was silently cursing himself for not bringing his gloves. Stark dumped his messenger bag in the back seat and slid gracefully into the driver's seat. Ichigo turned his head to the right a bit, eyeing Stark as the man snapped his seatbelt into place, started the car, and cranked the heat. Cold air blasted them in the face, making Ichigo shiver like a wet cat.
"Sh-sh-sh-shit! Th-that's f-fucking f-freezing!" he stuttered, teeth chattering.
Stark chuckled, "Sorry 'bout that. It does help the car warm up faster though."
"O-oh."
Ichigo hugged his arms close to his chest, wishing he'd worn more than his light-gray, pullover hoodie with the school's name across the front, and the matching gray sweats. His high-top, black Nike Air Force One sneakers and long, thick, white socks managed to keep the cold from seeping to his feet, but everything else was a lost cause.
Gradually, heat began filling the interior of the car, turning it warm and toasty within the space of two minutes. Ichigo was unable to suppress a groan of delight at the slow thawing of his extremities. He didn't notice the heated look Stark shot his way as a result of said groan.
"So, Ichigo, where am I goin'?" the brunet's deep voice interrupted his sheer joy at finally being warm.
He swung his head around to gaze at his crush, "You know where the Kurosaki Clinic is?" Stark quirked his lips in thought, then nodded. "I live in the connecting house."
"Ahh, family practice. Your parents run it then?"
Ichigo sighed almost inaudibly. He didn't blame Stark for assuming. Most people assumed that he still had both of his parents. "My old man does. My mom passed away when I was eight."
Stark whistled lowly, "Sorry, didn't mean to pry, ya know?"
"It's ok. I've come to terms with it. I still miss her but it's not as bad as it used to be," Ichigo muttered, glancing away from Stark to stare out the window.
"My parents are gone too," the brunet said quietly, a strange tone in his voice, "just me and Lilinette now."
"L-Lilinette?"
"My little sister. She's a terror. So troublesome," Stark sighed wearily as he pulled out of the student lot.
"She can't be that bad," Ichigo laughed, but Stark shot him a quick disdainful glare. "Or...I could be wrong."
"You have no idea."
"I've got two little sisters. They're fraternal twins; Yuzu and Karin."
"Are they monsters too?" Stark inquired.
Ichigo thought about it and shook his head, "Nah, I can't say that they are. My dad is, though."
Stark let loose a loud rumbling laugh, extremely abnormal for the normally laidback older man. Ichigo sat in awe, thoroughly enjoying the way the brunet's smile dimpled and expanded.
Good Lord, he really was gorgeous.
"Your dad, huh?"
"Yeah, the man's insane. He greets me with random flying roundhouse kicks and shit," Ichigo stated through an incredulous chortle.
Stark glanced at him uncertainly, "You serious?"
"Unfortunately."
"Wow."
The next few minutes were filled with silence, the sound of the wipers clearing the windshield of the falling snow the only other sound echoing through the car. Ichigo didn't want to leave. Not surprisingly, Stark was really easy to get along with, easy to talk to and just easy to be around in general.
He found himself not for the first time wondering what the laidback brunet's sexual preference was. Was he straight? If so, he kept it well-hidden because Ichigo had never seen him with any females. So did that make him gay?
Wishful thinking, ne?
Suddenly, the car pulled to a stop a few meters from the front of his house. Stark threw the vehicle into park, and turned to face him, an intense gleam in his sultry gray eyes. Ichigo shifted nervously.
Why was Stark looking at him like that?
"Thanks for the ride, Stark," he said quickly, feeling like such an epic failure for not telling the man how he felt like he'd intended to.
The sexy man nodded, "No problem, Ichigo."
Ichigo had his hand on the door handle, poised to pull it and let himself out, when suddenly, the rational side of him abruptly lost its mind. He twisted his body around in the soft seat, until he was once again facing the object of his nearly uncontrollable lust. Stark raised a dark brown eyebrow as Ichigo bit his lip in hesitation.
Oh, fuck it.
He quickly leaned forward and pressed his lips against the startled brunet's, not giving himself a chance to change his mind. The pit of his stomach flared with heat, and Ichigo was tempted to run his fingers through the man's wavy, brown locks, just to see if the hair was as soft as it looked.
Deciding he'd played with fire long enough, he started to pull back so he could face the consequences of his actions, when a large, warm hand lifted and cupped the back of his head, holding it in place.
What?
Stark sighed and threaded his fingers through Ichigo's hair, while quickly sweeping his tongue across his bottom lip. Fighting the urge to whine like a wounded dog, Ichigo's right hand came up to rest on Stark's cheek, while his left settled on the man's hip.
And just like that, he promptly died.
He had opened his mouth slightly and Stark wasted no time slipping his tongue inside. The hand resting on the taller man's hip fisted, pulling him closer.
Uwaahh, Stark tasted like spicy vanilla, if that made any sense. It was a mellow flavor with a bit of a bite in the aftertaste.
Delicious.
Ichigo squirmed in his seat as Stark lazily explored the depths of his mouth, tongue caressing and petting, rubbing and stroking.
Heaven help him.
Stark broke the kiss, leaning back to gaze into Ichigo's eyes with his head cocked to the side, "Troublesome," he muttered. Ichigo's brow furrowed deeply.
Did that mean he didn't like it? But if not, why would he kiss him back?
"What do you mean 'troublesome'?" He decided to just ask instead of trying to figure it out on his own.
"I've waited a long time for you to do that."
Ichigo's mouth fell open in shock. He...what? So, that meant...
He attacked Stark's mouth like it was a necessary requirement for him to breathe. The sinfully lazy man chuckled deep in his throat, chest vibrating from the low timbre, as he pulled Ichigo across the gear shift, then shut off the car.
Ichigo clawed at Stark's soft brown hair almost desperately. He'd wanted this for so long, and now that he finally had it, the word "control" no longer existed in his lust-hazed mind. He was nearly frantic with want and all they were doing was kissing.
Such arousing kissing.
XOXOXOXO
Inwardly, Stark couldn't stop laughing at Ichigo's haste, while outwardly, he couldn't get his hands on enough of the smaller man's skin. His right hand was buried underneath the orange head's thick, gray hoodie, sliding over slightly rippled abs and smooth, nearly flawless skin.
Ichigo smelled like exotic fruits. Mango, kiwi, coconut. All a tantalizing mixture that turned him on more than he'd realized. Then there was his taste. He tasted like bubble gum with a hint of peppermint and Stark was quickly becoming addicted.
In a spurt of random wildness, he aggressively tugged Ichigo's hoodie over his head, severing the kiss momentarily, then carelessly tossed the article in the back seat. He sucked his teeth in annoyance upon seeing the form-fitting, white t-shirt the youth wore underneath the hoodie. Yanking that off as well, his lips descended to the smaller man's seemingly sensitive neck.
Ichigo mewled and sighed, writhing and twisting in his arms, sending Stark's dormant aggressor into action. His coat was soon discarded, as well as his sweater, until both men were completely topless, Ichigo's hands roaming over his back and making him growl softly.
Pulling away from the younger man's delectable neck, he paused long enough to ask a question, "You do know if this keeps up, we'll be havin' sex in this car, right?"
Ichigo hummed unintelligibly and buried his face in Stark's neck, gently suckling his adam's apple.
He would take that as a "yes".
He kicked his boots off, and using his upper body strength, hauled Ichigo into the back seat, tossing his messenger bag to the front. Ichigo landed in his lap with a soft "oomph", but immediately lowered his head to capture Stark's left nipple between his lips.
Stark was indeed a lazy man, but there were rare moments when he transformed into a totally different person if the need moved him. When Ichigo sucked his nipple into his hot, wet mouth, it immediately became one of those moments.
He grasped a handful of that bright orange hair and pulled the smaller man into a soul-searing kiss. Every fiber of Stark's being screamed for him to dominate the strawberry, bend him over the middle compartment and fuck him 'til his nose bled.
He could certainly be a beast when he wanted to.
Ichigo's long fingers fumbled with Stark's belt and jeans before the youth became impatient, huffing his annoyance, "A little help, Stark."
He chuckled at the disgruntled state the orange head was in, but undid the belt and jeans swiftly, sliding the denim pants over his hips and past his thighs, settling around his ankles. His eyes darkened as he watched Ichigo lick his lips in anticipation while he tugged on Stark's green boxer briefs.
Once his erection was freed, the kid descended on it, without warning, taking the head into his mouth and eagerly suckling. He again grasped a handful of Ichigo's hair, this time hissing in the process.
Oh god.
The orange-haired male seemed almost desperate, and even though Stark didn't want to rush through things, he couldn't bring himself to complain.
It felt too damned good.
"Ichigo," he murmured.
Ichigo glanced up at him, a wolfish grin tugging at the corner of his lips, "Hmm?"
The vibration from that simple word nearly sent him over the edge, not to mention, the way Ichigo was trying to swallow him whole, bobbing his head feverishly, his slick tongue swirling circles around Stark's shaft.
Shit, his toes were curling.
Suddenly, Ichigo stopped, climbed onto the seat beside him and kissed him like his very life depended on it. Stark could taste himself on the strawberry's tongue, and it turned him on, making his dick twitch. That sense of needing to dominate the other man erupted in full force.
Stark barely waited until Ichigo kicked his shoes off before stripping him of his light-gray sweats and blue boxers. Both men were fairly naked, considering Stark's jeans still pooled around his ankles, but other than that, all skin was exposed for his heavy-lidded gaze to feast upon.
He wrapped his arms around Ichigo's waist, pulling him onto his lap, chest to back, where he nibbled the younger man's ear, before leaving kisses down the back of his neck and between his shoulder blades.
God, Ichigo's skin was so soft.
XOXOXOXO
He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think and his body was absolutely on fire. Everywhere Stark touched, a trail of flames was left in his wake.
Fucking hell.
Ichigo rolled his hips, pressing his rear against Stark's rock-hard length and loving the way the bigger male moaned as he peppered Ichigo's back with open-mouthed kisses.
God, he couldn't believe he was about to fuck his crush in the man's car, a short distance from the front of his own home.
Thankfully, the car windows were fogged, hiding their activities from any on-lookers, though Ichigo doubted there would be any due to the weather. Returning to the situation at hand, he arched his back when Stark's large hand wrapped around his dick and started languidly stroking.
"Nnngh, Stark," he moaned.
The brunet licked and sucked the side of Ichigo's neck, and he just knew there would be a noticeable mark left from the increasing pressure Stark exerted. At that moment, Stark's right hand traveled up his torso, sliding up his neck, only to pause at his mouth. Three fingers tapped his lips, silently requesting admittance, and Ichigo eagerly complied, sucking the digits into his mouth. His crush grunted, but continued laving his neck and stroking his leaking arousal, while slowly rotating his hips, grinding his impressive member against his ass.
Jesus Christ. Sensory overload. Or so he'd thought.
Stark withdrew his fingers, now shiny and slick with saliva, "Lift up, Ichigo, and grab that headrest," he rumbled, deep voice downright husky and throaty.
Ichigo obeyed, then instantly threw his head back with a loud moan as Stark probed his entrance teasingly before inserting a long finger. As the digit moved in and out, gently stroking his insides, the brunet leaned forward and placed little kisses at the small of Ichigo's back.
"Oh my gaah-ffff," Ichigo trailed of nonsensically when his crush inserted another finger, moving them back and forth, then scissoring them.
Stark used his free hand to reach under Ichigo's legs and palm and massage the younger man's balls.
He couldn't take it anymore. He wanted Stark inside him like months ago.
"Stark, please," he whimpered, arching his back when a third finger slipped inside him, "just fuck me already!"
The taller man chuckled softly, moving his fingers deeper and simultaneously brushing Ichigo's prostate.
"Ohhh! Shit!"
Ichigo couldn't breathe properly, and the lack of oxygen must've killed his brain, because nothing made sense anymore. Little white spots danced across his vision and blood pooled in his balls.
Fuck this.
Ichigo reached back, grabbing hold of Stark's wrist, and snatched those dangerously long fingers out of him. Once the fingers were gone, he let go of the man's wrist and growled, "Fuck. Me. Now."
Stark was silent, but Ichigo could see, over his shoulder, the brunet's half-lidded, smoky gray eyes twinkling with mischief as his lips turned up into a small smirk.
"As you wish," he murmured.
Stark gripped his hip with one hand and using the other held his length steady as he lowered Ichigo onto it. Ichigo opened his mouth in a silent scream. He felt like Stark was splitting him down the middle, tearing his body in two.
Shit, he was big.
His brown-haired crush didn't stop until Ichigo was filled to the brim and once he was, he wrapped his arms around his waist, allowing the smaller man to adjust to that incredible girth. Ichigo could feel Stark's dick twitching inside of him, as if begging to move.
"Ichigo," Stark husked in his ear.
Nothing else needed to be said.
Ichigo slowly rose, leaning forward again to clutch the headrest, then squeezed his eyes shut as he lowered himself much faster than before. Intense pleasure with a small tinge of pain rocketed through him.
"Fuck!" he yelped as he did it again.
"Mmm, Ichigo," Stark groaned, and lifted his hips to meet Ichigo's falls, his large hands now gripping that slender waist.
They settled into a slow, steady rhythm, each thrust deep and satisfying. Ichigo could only concentrate on trying to breathe, while enjoying the way Stark roamed his hands over his stomach, then up to pinch his already hardened nipples.
More. He needed more.
"Stark, faster!" he moaned, rolling his hips in an effort to increase the friction.
Stark grunted, but using one muscular arm to hold them together, he got to his knees as best as he could in the small space, and pushed Ichigo over the middle compartment of the car.
Fucking YES.
The brunet started slowly, adjusting his position and making himself comfortable, Ichigo assumed, then gradually picked up speed. Stark's narrow hips connected with Ichigo's ass repeatedly, creating sharp slapping sounds that filled the silence.
"Oh my god. Ohhh myyy gaahhd," Ichigo moaned almost deliriously.
Stark ran his hands up the middle of his back, tracing his spine, then back down to his hips, where he gripped bruisingly and began pounding into Ichigo with abandon, grunting softly, as the car rocked slightly.
Ichigo felt so high, he was dizzy. His vision was speckled with white, and his mouth was dry as the Serengeti. Stark was ruthlessly stabbing his prostate, and the slowly twining coil in his pelvis was at its limit. Then his crush reached around and grasped his dick, stroking in time to each merciless thrust, and the coil snapped viciously.
"FUUUUCK!" he screamed, tears springing to his eyes from the intensity of his orgasm.
Stark growled loudly, pushing into Ichigo only a few more times, before leaning forward and kissing his shoulder. Meanwhile, Ichigo was thoroughly spent. His breathing was harsh and he probably couldn't move even if someone paid him.
His crush slowly rose from his knees and collapsed against the back seat, taking Ichigo with him. Now that everything was said and done, and their libidos were sated for the time being, the winter chill was starting to seep back into the car, although the windows were still heavily fogged.
Ichigo snuggled closer to the tall brunet in hopes of stealing some body heat. He still couldn't believe what they'd just done.
Christ, he hoped no one had noticed their very obvious moment of passion.
Suddenly, a soft snore broke the silence and Ichigo glanced up at a now sleeping Stark. He snorted in amusement.
Lazy bastard.
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Lazy Bastard