*Kalluto follows the motions of Killua's steps. Even without his spatial awareness, Kalluto knows when the closet wall is close, Killua slowing down and even cushioning the back of his head with Killua's own hands.
Backed up against the wall, Kalluto is wild enough that he'd rather have been tackled through it, wanted splintered plastic to cut and graze and hurt him, wanted the air to escape his lungs as he lands on his back, but when Killua starts to drive his knee between Kalluto's legs, he has to prefer his brother's judgement.
His hands search on both sides for somewhere to grip, wants his brother to go harder without losing the perfect angle he's found. When he's stable, he's clearly being jolted around a lot less.
Kalluto is more proactive with his tongue, now, pushing past and against Killua's, their tongues sliding against each other, intertwining, exploring the other, everything hot and wet and disjointed. He whimpers, again, and pulls back, somehow contorting breathstarved wheezing through his prim manner and demeanour. As soon as he can speak, he does.*
Good. Faster. Ha-arder.
*As his voice cracks, he kicks his feet off the ground, using what he's grabbed on the walls to support him as he wraps his legs tight around Killua, the backs of his knees on either side of his ribs, squeezing Killua forward into the spot between his legs.*
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Date: 2023-10-22 04:25 am (UTC)Backed up against the wall, Kalluto is wild enough that he'd rather have been tackled through it, wanted splintered plastic to cut and graze and hurt him, wanted the air to escape his lungs as he lands on his back, but when Killua starts to drive his knee between Kalluto's legs, he has to prefer his brother's judgement.
His hands search on both sides for somewhere to grip, wants his brother to go harder without losing the perfect angle he's found. When he's stable, he's clearly being jolted around a lot less.
Kalluto is more proactive with his tongue, now, pushing past and against Killua's, their tongues sliding against each other, intertwining, exploring the other, everything hot and wet and disjointed. He whimpers, again, and pulls back, somehow contorting breathstarved wheezing through his prim manner and demeanour. As soon as he can speak, he does.*
Good. Faster. Ha-arder.
*As his voice cracks, he kicks his feet off the ground, using what he's grabbed on the walls to support him as he wraps his legs tight around Killua, the backs of his knees on either side of his ribs, squeezing Killua forward into the spot between his legs.*
Please.