[ He feels lonely. Ever since childhood, he has felt lonely— hardly knowing his parents; barely knowing his grandmother until she passed on. He developed his first real friendship who might as well be dead to him at this rate, as life whirl-winded them into different directions and paths to take as samurai.
A pity. He had almost fallen for Takasugi as well. Was he really that needy? To fall for such a person with such bitter schemes. Granted, Katsura would have been there— in the same hellhole of wanting the world to feel the pain they both experienced as they watched their mentor’s head be kissed by the blade of a comrade. A blade of a friend Katsura trusted more than ever—
That was another loss of somebody important. And now, that very person that Katsura chased and praised over the years had been struck down into dust.. what would that leave him with? Katsura did not want to be the last one standing. He never wanted to be. It paralyzed him into crippling fear every time it crossed his mind.
To die. Alone. Without anybody. And with Gintoki now gone, this fear was only more crippling. How could the great White Demon die before him? He will never know.
Sweat trickled from his pores, right near his brows and ran down his face, hanging on by his smooth and rounded chin. His bold lashes, framing such dark and passionate eyes were shut— the addition of the second finger, worming inside of his entrance and teasing the walls that clenched over them was pushing him closer and closer to the edge… There was no reason to be silent any longer.
He groaned, dipping his head down, inky hair still damp and sticking to areas of his face and shoulders. He speaks Sakamoto’s name in a hushed tone, feeliing a wash of pleasurable sensations pour into his thighs; making his stomach ignite with a burning feeling. Everything felt so dry in the back of his throat. It was something.. different. This kind of feeling was different with Sakamoto, as he serenaded his partner with sweet, genuine words, all the while making him feel like he was the only guy left on the planet; the only guy left in the entire universe.
Was he going to fall for him too? His heart was that fragile to fall for all three of his friends, though through time and events? It would seem that way. How weak.
Once Sakamoto hits that sweet spot, he releases a slight cry from behind his teeth, shifting to rut his back end further into the cause of such a great feeling. He felt himself clench a few times, leaking from the tip of his cock. He didn’t want to release so soon, but— Zura keeps his head bowed, bucking into Sakamoto’s hand until he feels his mind drawing to a haze— he almost doesn’t catch the very last part of what Sakamoto says. He comes, in about 4 or 5 hot spurts, directly across Tatsuma’s chest, getting some of it in the longer strands of his own hair, much to his chagrin. He rides his orgasm out into Tatsuma's hand— a hand he never imagined to have all to himself— a string of melodious noises escaping his glossy lips.
When it's all over, the only thing he can do is collapse against Sakamoto's body, engulfing him in an embrace and speaking hotly against his neck: ]
I miss you t—too.. [ When you're in space, doing your thing and he stayed here. It's good to have you back, even if it's for a short amount of time. When you're further away, it just reminds him of how few of friends he has. ]
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Ever since childhood, he has felt lonely— hardly knowing his parents; barely knowing his grandmother until she passed on. He developed his first real friendship who might as well be dead to him at this rate, as life whirl-winded them into different directions and paths to take as samurai.
A pity.
He had almost fallen for Takasugi as well. Was he really that needy? To fall for such a person with such bitter schemes. Granted, Katsura would have been there— in the same hellhole of wanting the world to feel the pain they both experienced as they watched their mentor’s head be kissed by the blade of a comrade. A blade of a friend Katsura trusted more than ever—
That was another loss of somebody important. And now, that very person that Katsura chased and praised over the years had been struck down into dust.. what would that leave him with? Katsura did not want to be the last one standing. He never wanted to be. It paralyzed him into crippling fear every time it crossed his mind.
To die. Alone. Without anybody.
And with Gintoki now gone, this fear was only more crippling. How could the great White Demon die before him? He will never know.
Sweat trickled from his pores, right near his brows and ran down his face, hanging on by his smooth and rounded chin. His bold lashes, framing such dark and passionate eyes were shut— the addition of the second finger, worming inside of his entrance and teasing the walls that clenched over them was pushing him closer and closer to the edge…
There was no reason to be silent any longer.
He groaned, dipping his head down, inky hair still damp and sticking to areas of his face and shoulders. He speaks Sakamoto’s name in a hushed tone, feeliing a wash of pleasurable sensations pour into his thighs; making his stomach ignite with a burning feeling. Everything felt so dry in the back of his throat. It was something.. different. This kind of feeling was different with Sakamoto, as he serenaded his partner with sweet, genuine words, all the while making him feel like he was the only guy left on the planet; the only guy left in the entire universe.
Was he going to fall for him too? His heart was that fragile to fall for all three of his friends, though through time and events?
It would seem that way. How weak.
Once Sakamoto hits that sweet spot, he releases a slight cry from behind his teeth, shifting to rut his back end further into the cause of such a great feeling. He felt himself clench a few times, leaking from the tip of his cock. He didn’t want to release so soon, but—
Zura keeps his head bowed, bucking into Sakamoto’s hand until he feels his mind drawing to a haze— he almost doesn’t catch the very last part of what Sakamoto says. He comes, in about 4 or 5 hot spurts, directly across Tatsuma’s chest, getting some of it in the longer strands of his own hair, much to his chagrin. He rides his orgasm out into Tatsuma's hand— a hand he never imagined to have all to himself— a string of melodious noises escaping his glossy lips.
When it's all over, the only thing he can do is collapse against Sakamoto's body, engulfing him in an embrace and speaking hotly against his neck: ]
I miss you t—too..
[ When you're in space, doing your thing and he stayed here.
It's good to have you back, even if it's for a short amount of time. When you're further away, it just reminds him of how few of friends he has. ]