▼ i logged on just to send this
send ' ▼' for my muses reaction to yours straddling/sitting on their lap.
amusement was rife in his features with the sudden approach of the quinto, of suddenly finding nnoitra's thighs encasing his lap where he sat upon that blocky throne of white marble. faint veins of blue and gray twisted through the stone and how his head tilted back. it was rare for his espada to be bold and only the bold would ever seek to do something of this nature. and nnoitra, like a certain few, was bold indeed to try this out.
to touch aizen sousuke was an allowance at his own behest for both knew he had enough power to twist nnoitra downwards to crouching, kneeling, groveling before himself. or to send him flying and leave him embedded in a wall. but to have nnoitra draw near, here, in the wake of one of those affairs in which the godling was to play judge of one petty squabble or another was certainly a surprise. the internecine squabbles of the espada and arrancar all were ever fascinating, the organic posturing for dominance amongst the ranks ever something to which the brunet found catching his interest and intrigue alike. he was willing to listen, even to intercede, but nnoitra could be considered one of the problem children. yet bold - bold enough to approach his god and contort that lanky body of his to straddle aizen and peer down at him with that one eye of gimlet nature. did the espada seek to intimidate--? or was it something else he desired?
one large hand curled over a hip and the other snaked to press upon the thin back as aizen tilted his head in an inverse incline, chin going up as the pools of brown focused upon the depth of violet which was focused on him, as if nnoitra sought something. validation, unless aizen missed his mark, and how rarely he did so. he would have expected this behavior from szayel, if any of the espada, for it was not something that he would have attributed to nnoitra. but he did not seek to hurl him away just yet as an eyebrow rose and his smile deepened ever so slightly while he felt those hips press down a touch against his own. was that a whine he could hear at the edge of perception from the man atop him? perhaps so.
❝ how fascinating, nnoitra. is this your way of seeking my attention? ❞
the hand resting along the espada’s spine began to rise upwards, sliding along to suddenly dig fingers of solid make into the inky strands of hair and he tugged at it, still smiling at him while his lashes shadowed the pools of rich brandy, a shade one would find in clarity in a crystal decanter left to catch the light of the sun while he gazed up to the espada. the shade of blueberries, aizen decided. his eye was the color of blueberries. a truly intriguing color; like a storm-clouded horizon on the verge of twilight. aizen did appreciate the colors of blue that he could take in. the godling did not seek to wrench that neck back, not yet.
❝ if you want it -- then be a good boy and tell me what you wish of me. ❞
