[ If nothing else, the gesture serves as a warning that Things are about to happen again. And happen they do, when Winter finds his world suddenly upended, and all at once he's the one standing over the bed, with Gojo beneath him. He has to brace his hands on the mattress ln either side of Gojo to stop from falling over entirely, raven hair cascading over his shoulders. ]
[ A low chuckle rolls in his throat. There's no way anyone could call sex with him boring, at the very least. And, god, there's a lot to appreciate about Winter from this angle, too, with the way his hair falls forward and frames his face as he catches himself. ]
You might just see even more, if you're good.
[ A subtle incentive, should the opportunity to use his powers further presents itself. For now, though, he is content to let Winter take the lead, reaching for one of his wrists to guide it back to his skin. ]
[ Please, there's nothing subtle about that. Winter cocks his head a little, amused and curious in equal measure. The motion gives Gojo a very nice view of the rapidly darkening mark he's left on pale skin. ]
I'm always good.
[ The words are practically a purr as they leave his mouth. He allows Gojo to guide his hand back to his skin. Just that brief moment apart has left him wanting, even with his tentacles still maintaining contact. He feels like he could bring all eight of them into play and have his hands all over Gojo and it still wouldn't be enough. Just what sort of pesky magic did they weave into that spa?
His hand paints a trail of heat along the other man's torso, from his hip up to his shoulder, skin so, so warm in sharp contrast to the cool touch of the tendrils of blackness making their own lazy way around Gojo's body. Fingers suddenly find their way into the snow-white locks of Gojo's hair, curling tight to give an experimental little tug to one side — testing the waters, with the dual purpose of getting the other to expose their throat more readily. Winter wants his own chance to explore. ]
[ For his efforts, Winter will find Gojo willing and pliant, responding eagerly to his touch, a gentle gust of breath leaving him as Winter tugs on his hair. Surprising no one, he enjoys a twinge of pain with his pleasure — and even more than a twinge, really.
How abundantly clear that becomes during this encounter remains to be seen, but he does exude the aura of someone who is comfortable with and interested in just about anything in bed. Rolling his head back, he offers Winter the swath of his long, pale neck, throat bobbing as he swallows against his anticipation. ]
You know what they say. [ Turning his head just slightly, his teeth graze the knuckle of Winter's thumb as his arms reach up to wind around the other man's shoulders. ] Actions speak louder than words...
[ Oh, but this is a sight, isn't it? Gojo lithe and pale, arching so prettily against the inky dark of the sheets beneath him. He is a gorgeous man, and Winter is more than happy to take a moment to admire him. Or, perhaps he can only divide his attention so much as he guides a pair of tentacles up Gojo's sides to carve their cool trails over the muscles of his chest. To encircle his pecs to undulate and squeeze and tease over his nipples. Either way, he very much enjoys what he sees.
Winter can feel that coolness between them, cutting through the insistent heat of their bodies as he leans in finally to taste that which has been offered to him so readily. His breath fans against Gojo's throat, his lips warm and thorough in their explorations, until the sudden sting of teeth clamp down where his throat begins to slope into his shoulder. He's not gentle about it, encouraged by the other man's reaction to the way he'd tugged on his hair. ]
[ The heat and pressure of Winter's mouth might be about the only thing that could distract Gojo away from the contrast of hot and cold between their bodies, and how good that feels — but Winter's intuition is absolutely correct. As Winter provides his neck the attentions of his lips and tongue and teeth, Gojo's fingers curl into his hair once again, fingernails scratching gentle but steadfast against his scalp to encourage even more of that sharp pleasure.
In his opinion, it's not much of an encounter if they don't leave marks on one another. Shameless as he is, he will gladly wear this mark that Winter leaves on him, turning his head just enough for a heady chuckle to beat against Winter's ear. ]
You can go harder.
[ As hard as he wants, really. His knees snap tight to Winter's waist, to keep him where he is, while his remaining free hand snakes around his partner's waist to the band of his trousers, hooking his thumb just inside at his hip. ]
[ A laugh rumbles up from his chest, a roll of distant thunder that vibrates between them, huffed out warmly against Gojo's skin. Winter's lips part against the crook of Gojo's neck, accompanied by the soft scrape of teeth over already tender flesh. There are legs bracketing his waist, a hand at the band of his trousers, and a gorgeous man telling him to go harder. ]
Harder? Are you saying you want to bleed for me, darling?
[ That escalated quickly, but then this whole encounter has been about escalating to an insane degree. Both of them have brought powers and abilities to bear that they normally wouldn't on the first instance, but they seem to have come to some sort of silent agreement that they can each handle it. Relish it, even. In Winter's long and storied sexual history, this one instance has risen quickly through the ranks for the thrill and unpredictability alone.
Something wriggles between them — the tendril coiled tight around Gojo's thigh undulates, moves, and teases in return, that cool slickness brushing against Gojo's length through the fabric of his underwear, no doubt heading for the fastenings of his jeans. ]
[ Yes, he can handle it, as they both seem to be able to, experienced and adventurous to cultivate an understanding between them that will no doubt make this a very memorable first time together. The first time but not the last, if it's up to Gojo; even if the spa might have helped them reach this point sooner, he has little doubt they would have wound up here soon enough anyway. Even if all they've done is foreplay, that alone is enough to tell him the rest will meet his expectations, and that he will eagerly come back for more, in the future.
But he won't let that distract from his present. Mouthing at Winter's ear, he presses the flat of his tongue against his earlobe before his breath huffs right against it — not quite the sensual exhale he intended, but it can't be helped. The touch of Winter's tendril to his length has him writhing, its cool touch stark against the heat of his cock, even with the thin fabric of his underwear separating them. Hah...what would it be like to get a handjob from a tentacle? (A tentacle job??) He's looking forward to finding out. ]
If you'd like to. I can heal myself, so I won't make a mess of your bed...
[ As the tendril reaches for the fastenings of his jeans, so do Gojo's fingers reach for those of Winter's trousers. They've kept their pants on for long enough, he thinks. ]
[ Which is an apparently important distinction. Perhaps it's obvious by now that Winter's own boundaries are quite broad, but knowing his partner will enjoy himself is what makes any endeavor worth it.
He noses along Gojo's throat, breathing in the scent of him, the heat and sweat on his skin, and exhales on a low murmur. ]
A little mess on the sheets is hardly a bother.
[ A mess of whatever kind.
For the moment, though, it seems Gojo has had enough of him being half-dressed, and he could not agree more. He wants to see all of the other man, feel all of him. Those jeans are in the way, so that cool, wriggling pressure continues to travel along Gojo's fly until, with surprising dexterity, it releases the button and eases down the zipper. A small bit of relief from the confines of the denim, no doubt.
Winter rights himself for the moment, leaving the expanse of Gojo's neck unexplored, save the angry red mark he left behind just a bit ago. This, he wants to do with his own hands. To see with his own eyes. Long fingers hook into the waistband of his partner's pants and underthings both and he eases them over Gojo's hips as one. His gaze roams hungrily over every new inch of skin exposed. ]
[ What a gentleman. Fortunately, Gojo is equally eager to make his boundaries clear, such as they are, far off from any point they're likely to reach tonight, or...ever, most likely. ]
Then, please, make a mess of me in any way you see fit.
[ But for now, he's left with a nice, swelling mark on his neck — he'll have to forego his high-collared jacket in favor of something wider to show it off. He wouldn't want Winter's hard work to go unappreciated...but it soon falls to the back of his mind, with Winter's attentions moving further south, with the tendril releasing the front of his trousers that releases some of the pressure. Relief, yes, but it also serves to remind him how little attention his cock has yet been paid; they'll have to fix that, soon enough. Patience isn't his strong suite, but he can employ it when needed, when it serves to heighten their shared pleasure.
So he doesn't intervene, much as his fingers might itch to, as Winter divests him of his jeans and sporty boxer briefs — he uses those fingers instead to grasp instead at the bedding beneath him, watching Winter's expression with keen interest as he unveils his lower half inch by painstaking inch. There's hunger in the other man's eyes, and while he's never one to worry that his partner won't like what they see — of course they will, he knows how beautiful he is — he nevertheless enjoys seeing him so enraptured with his body alone, with his slender hips the dip of his hipbones and the girth of his cock, thighs all muscle. What's not to like, not to want?
Yet he can't help a playful: ]
Enjoying what you see?
[ He teases, even as he angles up his knee and calf to press between Winter's legs, where his own arousal swells beneath his trousers. ]
[ Oh, that please is so very sweet. A treasure he's going to keep tucked away for those moments he chooses to think back on this encounter. He grins, a sharp flash of teeth in acknowledgement, a promise of what's to come once they're both free of their troublesome clothes.
Enjoying what you see? ]
You know the answer to that.
[ Gojo is nothing short of gorgeous, but even more so when he's naked and flushed and wanting, and this is a fact he is clearly abundantly aware of. Winter will only feed his ego so much in this encounter.
That leg comes up to press against where he's most wanting, and he looses a low groan, angling his hips for just a bit of friction. ]
[ Perhaps it was a little too greedy of him, to want to hear Winter tell him how good he looks in voice gone rough with desire, but his gaze says enough as it travels over every inch of Gojo's bare body. There are few things as thrilling as looking in another's eyes and seeing how much they want him written in their gaze alone. ]
Your turn.
[ His voice is low, but there's a sharpness to his words, as his shoulder blades peel away from the bedding while his hands grasp onto Winter's biceps. Rather than rely on his jujutsu this time to reverse their positions, Gojo allows himself the distinct privilege of urging Winter back with just his hands alone. Even if the other is fluid and responsive, there is still something forceful about his movements, a casual show of strength and urgency. He doesn't press Winter fully back against the sheets, but he does urge him back enough that Gojo can more easily snag the waistband of his trousers and tug them over his hips and away. As Winter had done for him, he tugs his underclothes off too, far too impatient now to wait to take those off separately.
He can still feel the heat from Winter's cock, from where it had pressed to his thigh; he can't deny himself the pleasure of seeing all of him any longer.
Both fully divested of their clothing now, he crawls forward once again, between Winter's knees, his palms alighting over the other man's knees and gliding slow and measure up his thighs. ]
[ Winter has no reason to resist, nothing to prove, so he remains pliant under Gojo's touch, going where urged with ease. There's still an edge to the way the other man treats him, something sharp and unforgiving that presents itself every now and then, the flash of a blade at his throat that thrills rather than terrifies.
He half wonders if Gojo will tear him out of his trousers like he did his shirt. In the next second he decides he doesn't care, so long as that stifling fabric is away from too-warm skin. He longs to be free of it, to be seen. Admired. Gojo eases his trousers over his hips, and Winter arches a little to ease their passage, all lean, lithe muscle sprawled across the bedding, his hair an ebony cascade on the blankets. ]
I know.
[ A cheeky response, or it would be, if it didn't come out of his mouth more breath than sound. He arches further into Gojo's touch with a soft groan, something steeped in want as the other's hands glide over his thighs. ]
Mm. Now that you have me, what are you going to do with me?
[ That's the question, isn't it? And Gojo isn't meek — instead, he's greedy, voracious, struck by all the lovely, beautiful ways he could fuck the man beneath him, or be fucked by him. He wouldn't care either way, as he's certain by now that Winter wouldn't, either. And no doubt, they have plenty of time to enjoy one another's company, so it's not as though they will only have this once.
So, what is he going to do with him?
His gaze sharpens with need as he swallows against the tension in his throat, which soon gives way to an unfettered groan. With the hands that glide over Winter's thighs, Gojo's fingertips stop at the creases of his hipbones, drawing inward with his index fingers. ]
Take you apart with my hands.
[ That's where he'd like to start, and he is, of course, very good with his hands — almost as good as he is with his mouth. With a dexterous swipe of his finger, he draws his touch along the underside of Winter's cock from root to tip, thumbing over his slit. ]
[ The nature of that look, the hunger and the way all the possibilities are no doubt playing behind those darkened, crystalline eyes, is enticing. Searing. Winter’s tongue darts from his mouth, drawing across his lips in anticipation. His makeup has long since smeared, and his attention can’t help but be drawn to the dark smudge painted over Gojo’s lips. Gorgeous.
Ah, but those lips will only hold his attention for so long when deft fingers are painting lines of fire across his skin. The slide of Gojo’s hands pulls a groan from him, hips lifting into that touch. That’s what got them here in the first place, isn’t it? The desire to touch and be touched, how simple closeness was not enough to sate that urge. ]
Hah, gods…
[ Breathed out, voice tight with barely leashed desire. Gojo teases him with his fingers, his cock twitching under that touch as the muscles in his abdomen go tense. The tentacles still slithering their way around the other man’s body tighten and undulate, reacting just as surely as the rest of Winter’s body does. ]
[ Gojo has always been one to savor the pleasure of others, when he himself is the source, and oh, how wonderfully responsive Winter is, with his body and his tentacles, offering him a brand of appreciation he hasn't had the opportunity to indulge in before. He could roll right over and let the sensation of all that touch wash over him utterly, but his greed takes a different color for now.
Why hand over the reins when he can touch Winter like this and still enjoy the attentions of his multifaceted touch? ]
Then allow me to unmake you.
[ His gaze, hooded and wanting beneath the heavy veil of his eyelashes, flickers down along the length of Winter's body once more as his fingers pump skillfully over the other man's cock, before flitting back to his face to watch the way pleasure spills over his features, eager to soak up every sight and sound that passes from him. His attentions are slow and languid at first, exploratory as he learns Winter's shape, the silky weight of his skin, but soon the pulls of his fingers grows more insistent, the calloused edge of his thumb dragging across his slit.
Idly, almost nonchalant, despite the flush in his cheeks and his breathless purr: ]
Lube?
[ Hopefully he has something on hand...it's not as though Gojo planned ahead for this. ]
[ Not one to disappoint, Winter wears his pleasure for Gojo to plainly see. His body arcs and writhes with the pass of those fingers over his length, lithe muscle coiling tight. It ripples through him, a wave of heat that exits parted lips in a breathless moan. ]
Haah, fuck.
[ Is there something about the effects of the spa that makes this feel better than usual? It would be worth considering, were he not so distracted by the slow, torturous way the other man explores him. Even his tentacles seem to be reacting more than actively exploring, circling Gojo's waist and limbs with stilted, rippling movements. That contact is still precious, still desired, even if Winter seems to be quite happy to be unmade and let Gojo wait his turn.
He's not so lost as to miss the question, though. A very important question, at that. He angles his head to indicate the little table next to the bed. ]
Top drawer.
[ Let it never be said that Winter was not abundantly prepared for such things. There's all sorts of goodies in there, but namely lube, which is what they're after. ]
[ Given how comfortable and willing Winter has been with the whole arrangement, Gojo isn't surprised in the least that he's prepared for something like this. Leaning over and reaching his long arm to snag open the drawer of the nightstand, he notes that lube is far from the only thing in there, too, a fact which he will...bear in mind. How fortunate he is, to have found someone willing to be so adventurous in bed. He doesn't need that to enjoy himself, but still, it whets his appetite for possible future encounters.
For now, though, all he needs is this small bottle of lube, and deftly, he flips open the lid to tip a portion into his opposite palm, before returning the bottle to the nightstand. ]
You've got quite the stash in your drawer there.
[ He muses, watching the other man's face closely, pupils wide and dark in astral blue, as he starts to coat Winter's cock in oil, easing the way of his fingers as he touches him. Feeling him this way is so much better, too — his hand glides with all the filthy ease in the world now, as Gojo strokes him from root to tip and back again with a quickened pace. ]
[ While his ego might not be quite as… in your face as Gojo’s often is, he’s certainly not one to shy away from a bit of praise, and the words elicit a low, rumbling purr in response. He is, as ever, happy to serve. ]
Hah, what can I say? I know what I enjoy.
[ He’s no adventurer in the traditional sense of the word, but all bets are off in the bedroom, even before the tentacles get involved. He and Gojo seemed to have skipped several introductory steps, but that also feels right. He can’t imagine this encounter any other way, with powers and extra limbs all in play.
His eyes track the bottle in Gojo’s hands, hungry and eager, as he tips the contents onto his fingers The anticipatory breath caught in his lungs leaves him in a sound that’s half sigh, half groan, pulled out of him by slicked fingers and quick motions. He already feels too hot, and Gojo just stokes that heat, making something red hot coil in his belly with every stroke. ]
[ A low chuckle rolls in his throat, gaze raking up and down the length of Winter's frame to soak in every bit of lovely feedback he gives him, every little shudder and gasp a testament to just how much he's enjoying himself. As if his words didn't already manage that well enough, but Gojo is a greedy man, eager to lap up every drop of his partner's pleasure. Especially with a partner so undiscovered, in this place he is still growing acquainted with. He may be no stranger to casual sex, but Winter is the first person who's gone to bed with him since his arrival. It's a special occasion.
With his free hand, Gojo reaches for his own heavy, hot girth between his legs to stroke himself, to provide himself with the sweet friction he craves as he pleasures Winter. ]
That's good?
[ He asks coyly, knowing full well just how fucking good he is, hissing out a groan between his teeth. With his fingers still coated, his touch descends lower between Winter's milky thighs, momentarily leaving his cock cooling so he can draw the tip of his index finger along the seam of his ass. ]
And this?
[ Another coy question, his deft touch pressing in further, dipping just past the tight ring of muscle he finds to enter him. ]
[ Winter is certainly learning just how greedy his partner is. Greedy for praise and looks and touch and pleasure, greedy enough to curl his fingers around himself and seek some small bit of relief. Winter finds himself abruptly jealous of those fingers, wondering what the heat of Gojo’s cock would feel like in his hand, or heavy on his tongue.
There’s plenty of time to find out, isn’t there? This is surely the start of something, and they can have each other as many ways as they want from here.
He hisses slightly through his teeth when he’s suddenly left unattended, Gojo’s touch drawing elsewhere. He would almost protest, if not for the sudden intrusion of a finger inside him. His whole body tenses, flexing, and then on a breathy exhale, relaxes with well-practiced ease. ]
Mm. Very good. But oh, you poor thing. I’ve left you wanting, haven’t I?
[ This, as the cool, slick touch of a tentacle winds its way around the base of Gojo’s cock, coiling like a snake, like he means to envelop the whole, hot length of him in cool darkness and starlight. ]
It’s only fair, isn’t it? That you get to feel this as you shake me apart.
[ A low chuckle rolls in his throat, a hot flush cascading over his skin from head to toe as Winter relaxes around his touch, and his lips part to offer some more sultry words — but on instinct, his fingers flutter away from his own cock as one of Winter's tentacles coils around it instead, offering him a sensation unlike one he's ever really experienced before.
His eyes squeeze shut tight, head tipping back as his hips arch into that sleek, cool touch, his teeth latching onto his bottom lip, before an unfettered groan slips through anyway. ]
Fuck, that's... [ In place of words, an indulgent mmm slips past his lips. ] More. Give me more.
[ The request is firm but not forceful as it slips easily from his tongue, and gathering himself, he flattens the palm of his now-free hand against one of Winter's thighs as the finger within him delves in further, filling up that narrow space with his dexterous touch until he can draw the pad of his finger against that sensitive, delicate bud he finds with. ]
[ The smile that cuts Winter’s features is sharp and satisfied and smug, saying with pleasure in answer to Gojo’s plea for more.
That tentacle winds its way around Gojo’s cock, spiraling from base to tip until he is all but fully enveloped in it. It undulates, a ripple of squeezing pressure and slight movement, and soft, filthy sounds. Winter can feel the heat of him, stark against the tentacle’s cool touch, and while it might not be quite like touching him with his own fingers, he is more than delighted with this, too.
That slick, writhing grip vibrates with the low, gravelly moan that slips out of him, ushered by Gojo exploring him further, filling him with his touch. He certainly knows what he’s doing, and touches him just so, finding that sweet, sensitive spot within him that sends a bolt of pleasure through every nerve where it hums like electricity under his skin. That current whips through his limbs, not least of which the tendril coiled around Gojo’s length, its squeezing and writhing turning erratic for the space of a breath. ]
Again. [ Breathless, rough. The word practically punched from his lungs. ] Please.
[ It really doesn't matter which of them is on top and which one is on bottom, when they're both more than eager to voice their desire for more, and equally willing to give it. Maybe during their build-up, he had been a bit coy about taking the lead, but now that they actually have their hands — and tentacles — on and within one another, he's not worried about that. All that he can think about is how damn good the light, coiled touch of Winter's tentacle feels around his cock when he pulls it against him, dragging another groan from his lips.
It's not quite like anything he's experienced before, and that's what thrills him before. Something new, undiscovered, that feels so incredible.
Teeth barred, he presses a hiss of pleasure between them with his tongue, as he does just as Winter requests, curling his touch once more to his prostate. He doesn't need to tell Winter how fucking beautiful he looks enraptured in bliss like that, but it passes through his mind, a wisp of coherent thought where there is so little. ]
Hah...haha... [ A sharp exhale of a laugh. ] You can take more than that, can't you, gorgeous?
[ He withdraws his index finger from Winter, but only so he can add a second finger, before pressing his touch within him once more. ]
[ With those skillful fingers, Gojo plays him like an instrument, touching him where he most wants to be touched and sending another burst of pleasure through him like a firecracker. It pulls another groan out of him, head tipped back against the sheets and eyes screwed shut in ecstacy.
It’s instinct more than anything that drives him to keep a sliver of his attention on the tentacle enveloping Gojo’s cock, the desire for contact still burning like an ember in his ribcage. He’s so hot and hard and good in his grip, and all he wants to do is pull more of those noises out of him with that writhing, squeezing pressure. ]
I can take as much as you want me to.
[ Even knowing what’s coming on the heels of those words, the sudden absence of the sweet intrusion of Gojo’s finger strikes him all-too soon, and it’s only by the grace of experience that he doesn’t whine about it. He’s not left wanting for long, anyway, and like before his body eases, relishing in the stretch. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Hah.
[ Breathless, surprised, but ultimately amused. ]
You're just full of surprises, aren't you?
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You might just see even more, if you're good.
[ A subtle incentive, should the opportunity to use his powers further presents itself. For now, though, he is content to let Winter take the lead, reaching for one of his wrists to guide it back to his skin. ]
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I'm always good.
[ The words are practically a purr as they leave his mouth. He allows Gojo to guide his hand back to his skin. Just that brief moment apart has left him wanting, even with his tentacles still maintaining contact. He feels like he could bring all eight of them into play and have his hands all over Gojo and it still wouldn't be enough. Just what sort of pesky magic did they weave into that spa?
His hand paints a trail of heat along the other man's torso, from his hip up to his shoulder, skin so, so warm in sharp contrast to the cool touch of the tendrils of blackness making their own lazy way around Gojo's body. Fingers suddenly find their way into the snow-white locks of Gojo's hair, curling tight to give an experimental little tug to one side — testing the waters, with the dual purpose of getting the other to expose their throat more readily. Winter wants his own chance to explore. ]
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How abundantly clear that becomes during this encounter remains to be seen, but he does exude the aura of someone who is comfortable with and interested in just about anything in bed. Rolling his head back, he offers Winter the swath of his long, pale neck, throat bobbing as he swallows against his anticipation. ]
You know what they say. [ Turning his head just slightly, his teeth graze the knuckle of Winter's thumb as his arms reach up to wind around the other man's shoulders. ] Actions speak louder than words...
[ And he, for one, prefers to be very loud. ]
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Winter can feel that coolness between them, cutting through the insistent heat of their bodies as he leans in finally to taste that which has been offered to him so readily. His breath fans against Gojo's throat, his lips warm and thorough in their explorations, until the sudden sting of teeth clamp down where his throat begins to slope into his shoulder. He's not gentle about it, encouraged by the other man's reaction to the way he'd tugged on his hair. ]
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In his opinion, it's not much of an encounter if they don't leave marks on one another. Shameless as he is, he will gladly wear this mark that Winter leaves on him, turning his head just enough for a heady chuckle to beat against Winter's ear. ]
You can go harder.
[ As hard as he wants, really. His knees snap tight to Winter's waist, to keep him where he is, while his remaining free hand snakes around his partner's waist to the band of his trousers, hooking his thumb just inside at his hip. ]
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Harder? Are you saying you want to bleed for me, darling?
[ That escalated quickly, but then this whole encounter has been about escalating to an insane degree. Both of them have brought powers and abilities to bear that they normally wouldn't on the first instance, but they seem to have come to some sort of silent agreement that they can each handle it. Relish it, even. In Winter's long and storied sexual history, this one instance has risen quickly through the ranks for the thrill and unpredictability alone.
Something wriggles between them — the tendril coiled tight around Gojo's thigh undulates, moves, and teases in return, that cool slickness brushing against Gojo's length through the fabric of his underwear, no doubt heading for the fastenings of his jeans. ]
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But he won't let that distract from his present. Mouthing at Winter's ear, he presses the flat of his tongue against his earlobe before his breath huffs right against it — not quite the sensual exhale he intended, but it can't be helped. The touch of Winter's tendril to his length has him writhing, its cool touch stark against the heat of his cock, even with the thin fabric of his underwear separating them. Hah...what would it be like to get a handjob from a tentacle? (A tentacle job??) He's looking forward to finding out. ]
If you'd like to. I can heal myself, so I won't make a mess of your bed...
[ As the tendril reaches for the fastenings of his jeans, so do Gojo's fingers reach for those of Winter's trousers. They've kept their pants on for long enough, he thinks. ]
Not by bleeding, anyway.
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[ Which is an apparently important distinction. Perhaps it's obvious by now that Winter's own boundaries are quite broad, but knowing his partner will enjoy himself is what makes any endeavor worth it.
He noses along Gojo's throat, breathing in the scent of him, the heat and sweat on his skin, and exhales on a low murmur. ]
A little mess on the sheets is hardly a bother.
[ A mess of whatever kind.
For the moment, though, it seems Gojo has had enough of him being half-dressed, and he could not agree more. He wants to see all of the other man, feel all of him. Those jeans are in the way, so that cool, wriggling pressure continues to travel along Gojo's fly until, with surprising dexterity, it releases the button and eases down the zipper. A small bit of relief from the confines of the denim, no doubt.
Winter rights himself for the moment, leaving the expanse of Gojo's neck unexplored, save the angry red mark he left behind just a bit ago. This, he wants to do with his own hands. To see with his own eyes. Long fingers hook into the waistband of his partner's pants and underthings both and he eases them over Gojo's hips as one. His gaze roams hungrily over every new inch of skin exposed. ]
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Then, please, make a mess of me in any way you see fit.
[ But for now, he's left with a nice, swelling mark on his neck — he'll have to forego his high-collared jacket in favor of something wider to show it off. He wouldn't want Winter's hard work to go unappreciated...but it soon falls to the back of his mind, with Winter's attentions moving further south, with the tendril releasing the front of his trousers that releases some of the pressure. Relief, yes, but it also serves to remind him how little attention his cock has yet been paid; they'll have to fix that, soon enough. Patience isn't his strong suite, but he can employ it when needed, when it serves to heighten their shared pleasure.
So he doesn't intervene, much as his fingers might itch to, as Winter divests him of his jeans and sporty boxer briefs — he uses those fingers instead to grasp instead at the bedding beneath him, watching Winter's expression with keen interest as he unveils his lower half inch by painstaking inch. There's hunger in the other man's eyes, and while he's never one to worry that his partner won't like what they see — of course they will, he knows how beautiful he is — he nevertheless enjoys seeing him so enraptured with his body alone, with his slender hips the dip of his hipbones and the girth of his cock, thighs all muscle. What's not to like, not to want?
Yet he can't help a playful: ]
Enjoying what you see?
[ He teases, even as he angles up his knee and calf to press between Winter's legs, where his own arousal swells beneath his trousers. ]
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Enjoying what you see? ]
You know the answer to that.
[ Gojo is nothing short of gorgeous, but even more so when he's naked and flushed and wanting, and this is a fact he is clearly abundantly aware of. Winter will only feed his ego so much in this encounter.
That leg comes up to press against where he's most wanting, and he looses a low groan, angling his hips for just a bit of friction. ]
My turn now, hm?
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Your turn.
[ His voice is low, but there's a sharpness to his words, as his shoulder blades peel away from the bedding while his hands grasp onto Winter's biceps. Rather than rely on his jujutsu this time to reverse their positions, Gojo allows himself the distinct privilege of urging Winter back with just his hands alone. Even if the other is fluid and responsive, there is still something forceful about his movements, a casual show of strength and urgency. He doesn't press Winter fully back against the sheets, but he does urge him back enough that Gojo can more easily snag the waistband of his trousers and tug them over his hips and away. As Winter had done for him, he tugs his underclothes off too, far too impatient now to wait to take those off separately.
He can still feel the heat from Winter's cock, from where it had pressed to his thigh; he can't deny himself the pleasure of seeing all of him any longer.
Both fully divested of their clothing now, he crawls forward once again, between Winter's knees, his palms alighting over the other man's knees and gliding slow and measure up his thighs. ]
God...you're beautiful.
[ Pale skin and ink-black tattoos and all. ]
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He half wonders if Gojo will tear him out of his trousers like he did his shirt. In the next second he decides he doesn't care, so long as that stifling fabric is away from too-warm skin. He longs to be free of it, to be seen. Admired. Gojo eases his trousers over his hips, and Winter arches a little to ease their passage, all lean, lithe muscle sprawled across the bedding, his hair an ebony cascade on the blankets. ]
I know.
[ A cheeky response, or it would be, if it didn't come out of his mouth more breath than sound. He arches further into Gojo's touch with a soft groan, something steeped in want as the other's hands glide over his thighs. ]
Mm. Now that you have me, what are you going to do with me?
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So, what is he going to do with him?
His gaze sharpens with need as he swallows against the tension in his throat, which soon gives way to an unfettered groan. With the hands that glide over Winter's thighs, Gojo's fingertips stop at the creases of his hipbones, drawing inward with his index fingers. ]
Take you apart with my hands.
[ That's where he'd like to start, and he is, of course, very good with his hands — almost as good as he is with his mouth. With a dexterous swipe of his finger, he draws his touch along the underside of Winter's cock from root to tip, thumbing over his slit. ]
Would you like that?
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Ah, but those lips will only hold his attention for so long when deft fingers are painting lines of fire across his skin. The slide of Gojo’s hands pulls a groan from him, hips lifting into that touch. That’s what got them here in the first place, isn’t it? The desire to touch and be touched, how simple closeness was not enough to sate that urge. ]
Hah, gods…
[ Breathed out, voice tight with barely leashed desire. Gojo teases him with his fingers, his cock twitching under that touch as the muscles in his abdomen go tense. The tentacles still slithering their way around the other man’s body tighten and undulate, reacting just as surely as the rest of Winter’s body does. ]
I’d like nothing more.
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Why hand over the reins when he can touch Winter like this and still enjoy the attentions of his multifaceted touch? ]
Then allow me to unmake you.
[ His gaze, hooded and wanting beneath the heavy veil of his eyelashes, flickers down along the length of Winter's body once more as his fingers pump skillfully over the other man's cock, before flitting back to his face to watch the way pleasure spills over his features, eager to soak up every sight and sound that passes from him. His attentions are slow and languid at first, exploratory as he learns Winter's shape, the silky weight of his skin, but soon the pulls of his fingers grows more insistent, the calloused edge of his thumb dragging across his slit.
Idly, almost nonchalant, despite the flush in his cheeks and his breathless purr: ]
Lube?
[ Hopefully he has something on hand...it's not as though Gojo planned ahead for this. ]
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Haah, fuck.
[ Is there something about the effects of the spa that makes this feel better than usual? It would be worth considering, were he not so distracted by the slow, torturous way the other man explores him. Even his tentacles seem to be reacting more than actively exploring, circling Gojo's waist and limbs with stilted, rippling movements. That contact is still precious, still desired, even if Winter seems to be quite happy to be unmade and let Gojo wait his turn.
He's not so lost as to miss the question, though. A very important question, at that. He angles his head to indicate the little table next to the bed. ]
Top drawer.
[ Let it never be said that Winter was not abundantly prepared for such things. There's all sorts of goodies in there, but namely lube, which is what they're after. ]
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Good boy.
[ Given how comfortable and willing Winter has been with the whole arrangement, Gojo isn't surprised in the least that he's prepared for something like this. Leaning over and reaching his long arm to snag open the drawer of the nightstand, he notes that lube is far from the only thing in there, too, a fact which he will...bear in mind. How fortunate he is, to have found someone willing to be so adventurous in bed. He doesn't need that to enjoy himself, but still, it whets his appetite for possible future encounters.
For now, though, all he needs is this small bottle of lube, and deftly, he flips open the lid to tip a portion into his opposite palm, before returning the bottle to the nightstand. ]
You've got quite the stash in your drawer there.
[ He muses, watching the other man's face closely, pupils wide and dark in astral blue, as he starts to coat Winter's cock in oil, easing the way of his fingers as he touches him. Feeling him this way is so much better, too — his hand glides with all the filthy ease in the world now, as Gojo strokes him from root to tip and back again with a quickened pace. ]
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Hah, what can I say? I know what I enjoy.
[ He’s no adventurer in the traditional sense of the word, but all bets are off in the bedroom, even before the tentacles get involved. He and Gojo seemed to have skipped several introductory steps, but that also feels right. He can’t imagine this encounter any other way, with powers and extra limbs all in play.
His eyes track the bottle in Gojo’s hands, hungry and eager, as he tips the contents onto his fingers The anticipatory breath caught in his lungs leaves him in a sound that’s half sigh, half groan, pulled out of him by slicked fingers and quick motions. He already feels too hot, and Gojo just stokes that heat, making something red hot coil in his belly with every stroke. ]
Hells. Fuck. Just like that.
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With his free hand, Gojo reaches for his own heavy, hot girth between his legs to stroke himself, to provide himself with the sweet friction he craves as he pleasures Winter. ]
That's good?
[ He asks coyly, knowing full well just how fucking good he is, hissing out a groan between his teeth. With his fingers still coated, his touch descends lower between Winter's milky thighs, momentarily leaving his cock cooling so he can draw the tip of his index finger along the seam of his ass. ]
And this?
[ Another coy question, his deft touch pressing in further, dipping just past the tight ring of muscle he finds to enter him. ]
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There’s plenty of time to find out, isn’t there? This is surely the start of something, and they can have each other as many ways as they want from here.
He hisses slightly through his teeth when he’s suddenly left unattended, Gojo’s touch drawing elsewhere. He would almost protest, if not for the sudden intrusion of a finger inside him. His whole body tenses, flexing, and then on a breathy exhale, relaxes with well-practiced ease. ]
Mm. Very good. But oh, you poor thing. I’ve left you wanting, haven’t I?
[ This, as the cool, slick touch of a tentacle winds its way around the base of Gojo’s cock, coiling like a snake, like he means to envelop the whole, hot length of him in cool darkness and starlight. ]
It’s only fair, isn’t it? That you get to feel this as you shake me apart.
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His eyes squeeze shut tight, head tipping back as his hips arch into that sleek, cool touch, his teeth latching onto his bottom lip, before an unfettered groan slips through anyway. ]
Fuck, that's... [ In place of words, an indulgent mmm slips past his lips. ] More. Give me more.
[ The request is firm but not forceful as it slips easily from his tongue, and gathering himself, he flattens the palm of his now-free hand against one of Winter's thighs as the finger within him delves in further, filling up that narrow space with his dexterous touch until he can draw the pad of his finger against that sensitive, delicate bud he finds with. ]
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That tentacle winds its way around Gojo’s cock, spiraling from base to tip until he is all but fully enveloped in it. It undulates, a ripple of squeezing pressure and slight movement, and soft, filthy sounds. Winter can feel the heat of him, stark against the tentacle’s cool touch, and while it might not be quite like touching him with his own fingers, he is more than delighted with this, too.
That slick, writhing grip vibrates with the low, gravelly moan that slips out of him, ushered by Gojo exploring him further, filling him with his touch. He certainly knows what he’s doing, and touches him just so, finding that sweet, sensitive spot within him that sends a bolt of pleasure through every nerve where it hums like electricity under his skin. That current whips through his limbs, not least of which the tendril coiled around Gojo’s length, its squeezing and writhing turning erratic for the space of a breath. ]
Again. [ Breathless, rough. The word practically punched from his lungs. ] Please.
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It's not quite like anything he's experienced before, and that's what thrills him before. Something new, undiscovered, that feels so incredible.
Teeth barred, he presses a hiss of pleasure between them with his tongue, as he does just as Winter requests, curling his touch once more to his prostate. He doesn't need to tell Winter how fucking beautiful he looks enraptured in bliss like that, but it passes through his mind, a wisp of coherent thought where there is so little. ]
Hah...haha... [ A sharp exhale of a laugh. ] You can take more than that, can't you, gorgeous?
[ He withdraws his index finger from Winter, but only so he can add a second finger, before pressing his touch within him once more. ]
Still a little tight...heh.
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It’s instinct more than anything that drives him to keep a sliver of his attention on the tentacle enveloping Gojo’s cock, the desire for contact still burning like an ember in his ribcage. He’s so hot and hard and good in his grip, and all he wants to do is pull more of those noises out of him with that writhing, squeezing pressure. ]
I can take as much as you want me to.
[ Even knowing what’s coming on the heels of those words, the sudden absence of the sweet intrusion of Gojo’s finger strikes him all-too soon, and it’s only by the grace of experience that he doesn’t whine about it. He’s not left wanting for long, anyway, and like before his body eases, relishing in the stretch. ]
Haah, well… we’ve only just begun, haven’t we?
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