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April’s weather was still chilly around the city. The cold breeze hit hard against his thin clothing, even though tall buildings shielded him.
The sun had set some hours ago, but Masaomi didn’t feel like going to his place just yet. The remaining anxiety from his early encounter hadn’t settled up.
It had been over six months since the last time he had seen the man, and Masaomi thought he was getting better. Even more now that he had good old Mikado by his side once again. It was a futile lie he was telling himself. He wasn’t getting any better. He was just getting better at dissociating.
The moment he listened to the sing-songy voice of Orihara Izaya, his stomach gave a somersault as cold sweat dampened his back. Nausea and foreboding invaded his senses for a few seconds before the last remnants of his pride made him stand straight and act like it was no big deal.
He introduced Mikado to a personified bad omen as if Masaomi hadn’t been used and betrayed by him last year. It left a bitter taste in his mouth, acting cool in front of Mikado when it was Masaomi who told him he should avoid Izaya.
“You shouldn’t be wandering alone so late at night, Kida-kun.” That voice once again startled him, making the thin hair on his nape stand on end.
How long has he been following him?
Masaomi turned his head and saw Izaya’s figure walking at a fair distance, hands in the pockets of his black coat. Masaomi avoided looking at his face.
“Didn't you have a meeting with some friends?” Masaomi scoffed with sarcasm. He very much doubted this man had anything close to a friend.
“Oh… unfortunately, they fell asleep.”
The tone and manner in which he said those words made Masaomi shiver. He didn't want to know what kind of sleep he was referring to, so he threw that thought to the back of his mind.
“Probably you bored them with some of your philosophical monologues.” Masaomi accused, trying to poke fun at him, oblivious to the fact that his comment was close to hitting the bull's eye. Not that he would guess Izaya had drugged and robbed these said friends.
“Not funny, Kida-kun.” Izaya tsk-ed, walking faster, to close the distance between them.
Masaomi’s mind screamed a cycle of “run, run, run” inside his head, however, he tried to remain calm. The last thing he wanted was to show how much Izaya still affected him.
“You look taller. Well, you’re still growing after all. Have you turned sixteen already?”
“Are you really making small talk, Izaya-san?” Masaomi stopped in his tracks, finally looking him in the eye.
Izaya smiled that creepy smirk of his. Not the fake warm one he introduced himself with, that one was just a façade he used to make you down your guard and fall into his trap.
"I've missed you."
The comment threw him off and Masaomi stared at him with suspicion.
"Cut the crap." Masaomi resumed his steps. He started regretting not going home right after saying his farewell to Mikado.
"I'm being serious." Izaya followed back, this time keeping a much closer distance. It made their hands touch while walking.
Masaomi carried on, breathing in and out. This wouldn't make him falter. He just had to ignore him until Izaya got bored and he would go away, like an annoying kinder child.
That was what he told himself. What he wanted to believe.
They stayed in silence. Masaomi could feel the warmth emanating from Izaya's body being so close to him. He was so focused on it while trying not to lose his cool that he started cursing himself when he realized they were on the way to his place.
He didn't want this, did he?
Things weren't supposed to be this easy on Izaya after everything that happened to them… to Saki.
"Can't you please leave me alone?" Masaomi finally asked. They were a couple of blocks away from his building at this point.
"You know why I'm here, so you can quit playing dumb… Ma- sa- o- mi." Izaya sang his name playfully, smiling at him and holding his hand to make him understand that there was no way out of this one.
Masaomi shuddered involuntarily at the use of his first name. How long has it been since the last time Izaya called him that?
Vague memories of them on a cold winter night at Izaya's apartment, tangled in sheets, cuddling while falling asleep. Izaya whispered his name affectionately while brushing his hair with soft hands, making him believe there might be something more, that perhaps, Izaya wasn't as bad of a person as he seemed to be. Definitely not the horrible monster he confirmed he was a couple of months later.
Masaomi sighed.
It’s not like there was anything he could do to make Izaya change his mind. The guy was a real pest when he had his mind set on something. Stubborn was an understatement.
So there he was, holding hands against his will, walking the rest of the way to his flat.
It had been a long time from Masaomi’s perspective. Probably a month or two before the incident with the Blue Squares.
The three of them would go to Masaomi’s apartment sometimes since his parents were rarely home. According to Masaomi, he was basically living by himself at that point.
How it happened the first time mostly didn’t matter. The point was that one way or another the trio, mostly on Izaya’s whim, would find themselves hanging around Masaomi’s apartment occasionally. Then again, what made these nights special was how they would interact with each other.
It was so… domestic.
Usually, Masaomi would cook simple dishes, with Saki’s help. The three of them would have dinner and make idle talk. Izaya would make them watch a movie or the news on the living room couch, Saki by his left and Masaomi by his right.
When it got late they would either go with Saki to the station or Izaya would call a cab to take her home. And when the two of them were left alone… Izaya would fuck Masaomi to oblivion. And Masaomi loved every second of it.
He especially liked it because Izaya always stayed the night. And though he always had to change the bed sheets the very next day, it was like Izaya’s essence permeated through it. His scent lingered in his bed.
That was what Masaomi liked to think about.
In reality, Masaomi was a too-horny teenage boy and Izaya had him eating from his hand. And he would realize this way too late.
Maybe he hadn’t even done it yet, considering that here he was, letting that very same man lead him towards the door of his small apartment, in the prospect of… Masaomi wasn't so sure what Izaya’s goal was, he assumed it was sex. A tiny part of him hoped it was just sex.
Izaya only let go of his hand once they arrived at the front door. Masaomi fished out his keys and they went in.
Masaomi wasn’t so sure what to expect. He was scared, anxious, excited, and angry. Half of him wanted to yell at Izaya, to explain what the fuck he was playing at.
Things weren’t like before.
He couldn’t come out of the blue and act like these past months hadn’t happened. Like Saki’s accident hadn’t happened. Like all the things that Izaya told him that night in the hospital, along with Saki's deranged scream, didn't resound every night in Masaomi's mind when he was in bed unable to fall asleep.
All of that did happen. And Masaomi couldn't act like it didn't matter.
Masaomi was pissed, but mostly, he was scared as shit. Izaya was never good news, and he was afraid that he had shown to make his life, the life that little by little he was putting back together, an utter hell.
Izaya was just that kind of person.
Dangerous. Unpredictable. Evil.
Instead, nothing happened.
Izaya beamed into the apartment like he owned the place. He dropped on the living room couch, a leg over the coffee table while he took the remote and turned on the tv. Masaomi stared in silence.
Izaya turned his head slightly to his side, eyes on Masaomi.
“I'm hungry. Will you need help with dinner? If you don’t feel like cooking I can order something." Izaya offered as if he hadn’t come uninvited. As if Masaomi wanted him there.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Izaya’s smiling face turned to a pout as if Masaomi’s comment hurt him or some bullshit.
“It’s not the first time I’m here Masaomi. You know how this goes. Why are you so adamant to play along?”
“Because… last time you were here Saki was too!” Masaomi couldn’t help but raise his voice by the end of the sentence. He missed her and thinking about her hurt the most.
“It sounds like you care so dearly for her, yet you hadn’t visited her once.” Izaya’s eyes went back to the TV. “You're a hypocrite, Masaomi-kun.”
Masaomi bit his lip, not moving from the hall. He hadn't even taken his shoes off. What would Izaya do if he turned around and ran away? Like always.
The problem was, where would he go? This was his house, and the wolf was making himself at home.
It was late. He was tired. Izaya was already there.
Masaomi sighed one more time.
There was no real escape from this.
–
"Is omurice okay?" Masaomi was tying an apron around his waist, waiting for Izaya's confirmation while opening a cabinet to take out some ingredients.
"Yep!" The childish response came, Izaya didn't spare Masaomi a single glance. He seemed way too entertained by something on his phone.
The living room and kitchen were separated solely by a counter, so it was easy to see what was happening in the rest of the common areas.
Masaomi acknowledged the response and started cooking. He didn't consider himself well-versed in the kitchen but he's been living alone for the most part since his family moved to Tokyo so, even if he didn't want to, he ought to learn some basic dishes to survive.
"Write something cute on mine!" Chirped Izaya's voice, after some time passed.
Masaomi was already serving the plates and rolled his eyes at the request.
"This isn't cute at all, Masaomi-kun," Izaya commented once they were both sitting at the table.
Izaya's omurice had the word 'DIE' written in very unprofessional and ugly calligraphy and a tiny doodle of a skull drawn mysteriously with much more skill than the previous word. Masaomi's plate had a simple splash of sauce without any ornament, he started eating, pretending to ignore Izaya's aggravated look.
There was some kind of conversation going on around dinner. Trivial commentary on the ongoing happenings in Ikebukuro, about Masaomi's shenanigans in high school, and also some rumors of Izaya's new neighborhood in Shinjuku. Nothing too personal. A very safe conversation between two people who have barely crossed a word over long months.
Masaomi was grateful Izaya wasn't behaving like the jerk he was. He didn't mention Saki again or bring up the topic of the Yellow Scarves at any moment. He didn't even pronounce the word 'gang', and although Masaomi was being wary and he knew Izaya was doing it on purpose to make him down his guard, he appreciated it anyway.
It had been a long time since he had a nice dinner with someone. He couldn’t call this ‘nice’, but a part of him felt warm about the company.
Masaomi has been alone for over a year now. He was rebuilding his life over the crumbs that were left, with some old and new friends. Yet, there's this intimacy that he lacked in his life.
No present parents, no girlfriend, or at least a friend he could share all his troubles, thoughts, or feelings with.
Masaomi was a lonely boy, he knew that for a fact. He always tried to remedy it, but apparently, the more he tried to fix it the worse it'd turn out in the end.
Izaya made him uncomfortable in too many ways, still, he was familiar. He was someone Masaomi knew even when he wanted to deny it. He was some sort of buoy in the changing sea that was his life. He was a constant presence. Although not a good one, it was there.
The remnants of the initial anxiety -the one with physical symptoms-, were slowly draining out of his system. It hadn't faded completely. It was still present, in the form of a constant thrum echoing inside his head. It was a sign that his brain would stay on alert around the threat Izaya represented, though his body and mind were adapting, getting used to him once again. Because there was not a thing Masaomi could do to avoid the inevitable.
In the past, he had made fun of the retinue of girls Izaya always got around him. Those girls idolized him as some kind of savior or prophet. Masaomi was not any better, he was worse actually. He had let himself be pulled inside Izaya's little game and he didn't have a say on when it'd finish.
On most days he didn’t think about it, didn't want to think about it. It was something he couldn't change. Masaomi’s whole existence was as engrained to Saki as it was to Izaya. To Masaomi, the three of them will always be connected.
“I’m so glad I got to savor Masaomil-kun’s food once again,” Izaya commented casually as he finished his plate, smiling, his eyes in crescents. “It was delicious.”
Masaomi felt Izaya's foot slowly caressing the side of his leg, from his ankle to the mid of his calf. Masaomi tensed and rushed a response, getting up from the table even though there were some leftovers on his own plate.
“If you liked it so much, then be useful and do the dishes. I got homework due tomorrow, so I’ll be in my room."
"Liar." Izaya deadpanned yet obliged.
Masaomi ignored him. Izaya probably knew today was his first day at Raira, of course he didn't have any homework, but he would use any excuse that bought him some time away from him.
After a while, Masaomi heard a soft knock on his bedroom door before it opened. Izaya stood under the doorframe, abstaining from invading Masaomi's space, for once.
"Gonna take a shower, do you keep that change of clothes I left here?" Izaya leaned against the frame, crossing his arms over his chest, waiting for Masaomi's answer.
Masaomi lifted his gaze from the notebook in front of him and made a face as if trying to remember. The truth was he knew exactly where he kept Izaya's clothes, the bastard had his own section in Masaomi's wardrobe. A fact he didn't need to know.
Masaomi got up and went to his closet, taking way too much time to retrieve the items. The clothes kind of smelled, after so many months of being unused, the aroma of detergent and softener had already worn off. They'd have to do for the time being.
"Thanks." Izaya took the clothes being offered, made an extra step into the room, and leaned toward Masaomi. Izaya gave a peck to his cheek, then left for the bathroom.
Masaomi stood still for a couple of seconds, feeling the remnants of the warmth on his face. It was just a small gesture, like at the end of dinner, or the handholding before that. In all instances, Masaomi had failed to control his body reactions, the beating of his heart, the soft flush on his face, how good it felt to be close to someone else.
Masaomi’s will crumbled little by little as his desire grew exponentially.
He had missed Izaya, too.
It was past midnight when Masaomi left the bathroom after a long shower. He replayed in his mind all the events of the day and all the possible scenarios that could happen once he left the security of those four walls.
He hated himself for being so excited. He was supposed to hate Izaya, to be mad at him, to deliver a punch to his stupid smug handsome face. To care more about Saki than his own selfish needs.
He was a weak one, though. Always have been.
Masaomi turned to the living room where Izaya kept lounging. The tv was still on, some sort of old drama movie playing on it, though unsurprisingly, Izaya's attention was fixed on his phone.
Masaomi went to the couch and sat at the other end, as far from Izaya as possible, a towel in hand lazily drying his wet hair.
Izaya lifted his gaze from the phone screen and directed it to Masaomi, he made a gesture for him to sit on the floor in the space between his legs and Masaomi obliged, yet with some hesitation.
Masaomi held a sigh when he felt Izaya's hands starting to dry his hair, massaging his scalp through the towel's fabric. He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the other's touch and started wondering…
Why was Izaya being so nice to him tonight? Would this end as miserably as he thought? Should he let go of himself and enjoy the moment without thinking about the consequences as he did in the past?
Masaomi bit his lip hard.
"Relax, Masaomi. I'm barely touching you." His tone was mocking but his hands kept doing the work diligently. Masaomi forced himself to loosen up and control his breathing, he opened his eyes and tried hard to focus on the movie that was playing.
"Done," Izaya announced after a few minutes, throwing the used towel on the floor next to Masaomi. Right after, two hands made their way under his armpits and before he could even react Izaya had already lifted him from the floor and sat him between his legs. Izaya embraced him, chest against his back. Masaomi felt both arms entangling over his frame and Izaya's breath over his shoulder. Masaomi shivered.
"How long are you gonna play hard to get, Masaomi?" His voice was soft and alluring, fanning over his ear, almost a whisper. Masaomi leaned against it, feeling the familiar tickling running all over his spine. And with that, he was done. Ruined. Completely fallen for the man's trap and there was no way Masaomi would reject the advances. Not that he tried particularly hard in the first place.
Izaya took his jaw with one of his hands and turned Masaomi's face to the side, their lips were barely touching, it wasn't quite a kiss. Izaya wanted Masaomi to kiss him, and so Masaomi did.
They stayed in that position for what felt like minutes. Masaomi wanted to cry, he felt both happy and guilty. He wanted more, more, and more and so badly.
Masaomi pushed himself away and stood up from Izaya's lap. The man looked at him in confusion but the expression immediately changed to one of complacency when Masaomi climbed back, straddling him.
Masaomi took Izaya's face with both hands and smashed their lips together. It was sloppy and with too much tongue. It felt heavenly.
It had been so, so long and he felt every bit of him burning; his face, his hands, his chest, his lungs. And the scraps of the calm life he wanted to get back started burning along, too.
Izaya pulled back slightly, caressing Masaomi's face with one hand "I prefer Masaomi like this way better." His smile turned devilish. He already won, why bother to keep up with the appearances?
Masaomi closed the distance once again, not making an effort to bite back. It was pointless. Masaomi wanted this more than Izaya himself.
Hands traveled along his sides, his back, his thighs. The touch was firm but not forceful, it left a trail of warmth on him. Masaomi felt overwhelmed by the sensations. Feelings he hasn't experienced for a while now made his insides combust, and he knew it was ridiculous because this had barely started. Izaya could do many more things to him, with him; he was sure he would pass out if he didn't get his shit together.
"B-bedroom." Masaomi blurted against Izaya's mouth, hoping the break would give him some time to gather his bearings. He didn't expect Izaya would grab him from the back of his thighs and carry him around without any sign of struggle.
Masaomi clung to Izaya with both legs and arms, hiding his face in the crook of Izaya's neck. He could catch a glance of Izaya taking the coat he had previously discarded on the sofa before heading towards Masaomi's bedroom once again.
Izaya entered the room, not bothering with turning on the lights, he placed Masaomi on the bed and kissed him on the forehead. Masaomi sat at the edge, thinking it was too small to fit two men in it, well, a boy and a man.
Lights from the city filtered through the large windows, and once his eyes got used to the darkness he could watch as Izaya hung his coat on the same hanger Masaomi's uniform was and retrieved some items from one of the inner pockets. Lube and condoms, he figured.
Masaomi was excited, hot all over, and knew he probably looked very flustered as well. The loose clothes he put on after the shower did little to hide his hard-on, though he was sure Izaya must have noticed that while they were making out on the couch.
The items were thrown on his nightstand with little care and Izaya leaned down to kiss him once again. Masaomi stopped him midway, one hand landing on Izaya's navel, gripping slightly at the edge of his pants. "Can I?" Masaomi muttered, barely audible. He felt shame. Guilt. Although there was no denying his cock twitched just at the thought of it.
"Of course." Izaya purred. Masaomi could almost hear him smirking. Bastard.
Not like this wasn't a pathetic situation for himself. He wanted it though, maybe a little too much.
"Take off your shirt," he said, trying to disguise his insecurity with a demand, pulling the fabric up Izaya’s chest, fingers tracing paths over the bare skin. Izaya complied and took a step forward, closing the short distance between their bodies.
Masaomi’s breath grazed over the soft skin above the elastic of his boxers, peppering with kisses the almost invisible trail of hair that led downwards. With shaky hands he took both remaining pieces of clothing and pulled them down in one swift move, leaving Izaya completely exposed. He felt the slight tremble of the other's body followed by a complaint about not having gotten the heater fixed since last year.
"How did you even survive February?" Izaya laid a hand over his head, entwining his fingers around his hair and pulling slightly, forcing his face up to make eye contact. His tone didn't appear at all concerned about Masaomi's well-being but more about his own discomfort.
Masaomi didn't reply, not focusing on what Izaya had said when his half-hard cock was only a few centimeters away from his face. It was too distracting. Masaomi could feel himself salivating. Fuck. He was too horny to think properly.
He forced his head down, feeling Izaya’s fingers slide across his scalp almost painfully, before resuming his task. He took Izaya's dick and gave it a few experimental strokes, getting used to the heat, to the weight, letting his lips slowly close the distance to start shyly licking at the tip.
Salty. Overwhelming. It took every ounce of Masaomi's self-restraint to avoid moaning. Heck, he couldn't keep humiliating himself and show how fucking much he enjoyed pleasuring Izaya like this.
His tongue and hand slid over the hot flesh to smear saliva over it and ease the job. He kept like that for a minute or so before hearing a low grunt from Izaya and decided it was enough with the teasing.
With a deep breath of preparation, Masaomi opened his mouth and engulfed Izaya's dick as far as he could in one go without choking, making short stroking motions on the rest of the shaft. He started bobbing his head to a steady pace, each time trying to go a bit further.
Masaomi thought it weird that he enjoyed giving head, considering how straight he thought he was before meeting Izaya. He just kinda assumed it was because he enjoyed making others feel good. He liked making Izaya feel good the most. Masaomi treasured every sound he managed to bring out from him. It felt like a sort of victory, knowing he could affect him too, alas in this type of situation.
He knew what worked with Izaya, he remembered, and made his utmost effort to make Izaya melt with pleasure. The idea of cum filling his mouth made Masaomi groan, and he felt the hand on his hair pulling harder, Izaya's hip slightly pushing against his mouth.
He scratched the soft skin of Izaya's thighs with his free hand, occasionally going back and pinching his butt cheeks, enjoying the feel of Izaya's lean body, the soft curves and barely there muscles, his familiar scent mixed with Masaomi's body wash.
The uncomfortable feeling at the pit of his stomach hadn’t faded, even so, Masaomi wouldn't trade this for anything, probably.
A couple of strands of hair were torn off of his scalp when Izaya pushed Masaomi's head away from his dick.
"That's enough."
Izaya took him by the arm to pull him up to the center of the bed, positioning himself between his spread legs. Masaomi instinctively rolled his hips up, his clothed erection against Izaya, and gasped at the friction.
He bit his lip when a hand landed on his crotch, pressing on it and he heard a soft snicker close to his ear.
“You’re wet, Masaomi.” Izaya’s voice was deep, rough. Masaomi already knew he was leaking precum, he could feel his erection uncomfortably pressed against his thin shorts. He began thrusting toward the hand, desperately.
He shivered when a tongue traced the shell of his ear, playing with his piercings. His hands wanted to hold onto the person atop him so badly, yet he resisted, grasping the bed sheets instead until his knuckles turned white.
“Have you been doing this with others? I didn’t remember you were that good at sucking dick?” The tone was teasing, though Masaomi could pick up the curiosity in it. Did he actually care if he’s been fooling around? The answer was no, Izaya just enjoyed the flattery. It was his nature. He perfectly knew Masaomi wasn’t the type to have flings. He wanted confirmation from Masaomi, that up until now he belonged to no one else but Izaya.
The question also made him wonder with whom Izaya had fooled around for the past months. Around the time they had 'their thing' going on, Masaomi was sure he was not the only one Izaya got involved with. They would see each other at least twice a week, but there was plenty of time to meet other people in between.
On more than one occasion Masaomi had seen hickeys on Izaya's skin that he most definitely hadn't left. He had always been wary of leaving any evidence of their encounters on Izaya. Not hickeys or any type of marks. It felt inappropriate. As if it wasn't his place to do so.
On the other hand, Izaya never had a problem with it. He would bite and suck and hold him so tight his skin would bruise. He didn't worry about being too rough. Masaomi assumed Izaya was testing him, seeing how much he could push until Masaomi asked him to slow down.
Up until now, they haven't reached that limit. Apparently, Masaomi liked it rough.
The thing was, Masaomi hadn't done it with anyone else and now, because of that stupid comment his mind started spiraling on thoughts of Izaya's other lovers, on all the months he had been absent from his life, and how probably Izaya didn't care. After all, Masaomi was sure sex wasn't what brought Izaya here, there was, of course, an ulterior motive. A plot Masaomi couldn't begin to imagine. A plan Izaya had merely started crafting and Masaomi as per usual, was a pawn more.
"You're quieter too." He huffed, unhappy Masaomi didn't reply to his question.
"Do me already." That was the only response he got. Masaomi looked at him, defiant, ready for whatever Izaya got in stock for him.
From then on everything moved rather quickly. Izaya's unamused expression didn't halt while he undressed Masaomi and picked up the lube to start prepping him. Deft fingers massaged his entrance and penetrated him with ease, starting slow movements to relax the muscles there.
Masaomi made low sounds of approval, relieved Izaya decided to go easy on him. Gentle wasn't exactly it, but at least he was making sure Masaomi would enjoy this as much as he could. In the back of his mind, Masaomi thought of it as a kind of bribery. Izaya's goodwill was not something to take for granted, he had learned.
When the fingers pressed against his prostate Masaomi couldn't help a moan escaping his lips, he rolled his hips toward it, wanting the sensation not to end. Izaya indulged him, he kept his fingers teasing the bulge of nerves, making Masaomi squirm in pleasure, drinking on the image beneath him.
"How am I supposed to be patient when you look like this?" He heard him say offhandedly. Masaomi was too far gone to pay attention to his face, his gaze blurred by lust. He did take a quick glance at Izaya's cock though, now leaking too, the liquid glistening against the faint light filtering through the windows. Masaomi licked his lips in anticipation.
"Then fuck me."
"Demanding, are you?" Izaya sneered at him, pulling his fingers off. He picked up the condom and put it on irritatingly slowly, just to piss him off. He lubed himself and teased his entrance with the tip. "Now be good and ask nicely, Masaomi."
Fuck you.
"Please, fuck me," Masaomi said with as much annoyance as he could muster. Izaya rolled his eyes.
"I guess that'd have to do for tonight."
Izaya entered him in one thrust. Masaomi's eyes rolled back and he screamed at the suddenness of the action. It hurt, but it felt relieving, being filled to the brim with cock. He stayed still, willing all his muscles to relax and get accustomed to the sensation. He definitely had missed this.
Not much passed until Masaomi started rolling his hips, small motions that made Izaya understand he could start thrusting.
It was slow, almost romantic. Izaya's hands would wander around his torso, pinching his nipples, grazing his thighs, reminding Masaomi who made him feel best, who owned his body.
Masaomi could feel his breathing fasten, trying his best to match Izaya's rhythm although rather clumsily. It's been time and he had to admit he was a bit desperate for release. However, Izaya seemed to want to take his time.
Izaya took both of his wrists, Masaomi’s arms had been lying by the side of his head, not daring to embrace him or do much this whole time. He pushed them up applying the tiniest bit of pressure to support his weight and started fucking him harder. Not faster, though. They were slow and precise thrusts, making his insides jumble. It felt so good Masaomi's mind went completely blank, and each time Izaya pounded into him, Masaomi let a loud moan run free from his mouth. The little dignity he had saved was completely lost by now.
He could feel his orgasm building, his core tightening. He lifted both legs, spreading them as much as possible to allow Izaya even deeper. A neverending chant of 'yes's and 'fuck's left his lips unconsciously. Masaomi could barely distinguish Izaya's smug expression while he was being ravished by him. He was going to come untouched and Izaya was savoring every bit of it.
He reached his climax after a few more thrusts. His belly tensed and contracted, his sight going black for a moment, he was sure he called Izaya's name at some point but this wasn't the moment to put much thought into it. He could feel the trails of sticky hot cum splayed over his chest as he slowly came down off his high.
Izaya kept going, his pace faster now, looking for his own release. Masaomi felt oversensitive, but he endured. He didn't mind. In fact, this was probably his favorite part, letting Izaya use him for his own pleasure. He tended to go a bit rougher, tonight seemed to be an exception.
He let go of Masaomi's wrists and let his face fall on the crook of his neck. Masaomi managed to hear the softest gasp escaping Izaya, he wasn't going to last that long apparently.
"Masaomi…"
He shivered, hearing his name whispered against his ear, sounding like something close to a whimper. And then those lips were kissing and sucking on his neck while a hand made its way to his hair and pulled it lightly. The movements became erratic and Izaya climaxed with a loud gasp.
It felt too intimate. Uncanny.
It made his heart race.
Then Izaya let his weight fall entirely on top of him. Masaomi could feel his heart thudding, the sweat on his skin, and how his own jizz got smeared between their bodies. It was kind of disgusting. He didn't care.
"Let's take another shower." Izaya offered after a few minutes. The hand that never left his head, innocently playing with some strands.
As it was usual, he stayed the night. They slept cuddled on his bed, as in old times. A tiny part of Masaomi felt like crying. He was confused as fuck, but he didn't ask questions.
He shut his mouth and let himself enjoy the illusion.
-
Masaomi wasn't a heavy sleeper. On most days he would wake up with the first sound of his alarm going off. Today though, he woke up at the sounds of shuffling around his room.
He opened his eyes and found Izaya getting dressed in yesterday's clothes, pajamas discarded on the floor.
He looked as uninterested in Masaomi’s existence as ever. Like yesterday night didn't happen at all.
Masaomi closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them again. He didn't move an inch from where he was, safe under the mattress.
"Izaya-san…" he called. Izaya hummed, not looking in his direction but acknowledging him nonetheless. He was now putting on his coat in front of the mirror.
"What do you want from me now?"
This time Izaya did look at him, turning his way and smiling sardonically.
"You'll know when time is due." He replied dryly. Masaomi was certain he wouldn't manage to get more from him for now.
"Promise me just one thing."
This made Izaya actually laugh, Masaomi didn't appreciate it but didn't let it get to him.
"You are more demanding now." He claimed, amused.
"Promise me you won't get Saki involved in whatever you're plotting. She had more than enough." He sat on the bed to say it. Staring at Izaya in the eye with pure determination.
Izaya could use him as he pleased for whatever game he had in mind this time, but Saki must stay safe. She had already gone through hell for both of them. Masaomi wanted her to have some peace.
Izaya took a few steps to get in front of him, face full of fake disappointment, as if it was a stupid or useless thing to ask.
"If you're going to care this much for her, at least have the guts to go see her."
"I'm being serious.”
"Me too, you know." He shrugged. "Anyway, she's not supposed to be involved in it, so rest assured."
Masaomi sighed, relaxing at last. He didn't know what Izaya’s plan was but if Saki was safe it was all that mattered.
"If that's all you have to say then I'll get going. Got a meeting in half an hour."
Masaomi watched as Izaya finished getting ready. It was early and he was not supposed to be awake for an hour or so.
"Who are you meeting at fucking six in the morning?"
"Adults are busy people, Masaomi." Izaya evaded the question. Masaomi didn't care enough to keep asking.
"Drop by my place on the weekend."
Those were Izaya's last words before leaving his room. After that, Masaomi heard the main door open and close briefly after, confirming he was left alone once again.
This was absolutely fucked up.
Masaomi felt himself descending to hell all over again, not precisely of his own volition.
And this time there was no doubt it'd be permanent.