Chapter Text
Satoru’s bedroom was empty save for the sound of the box fan in the window and his own progressively filthier sounds of frustration. It had been at least twenty minutes since Suguru had left- and had left him like this, head down and ass up on the bed, hands tied behind his back, ass still red from a spanking, and Suguru’s favourite collar around his neck. This was meant to be his punishment for bullying the underclassmen on their last mission. A well thought out punishment, too- Suguru really had a talent for thinking of these kinds of things, he would admit. Like a secret, sadistic talent. He hadn’t said when he’d be back or where he was going, he had just left. Left and told Satoru to stay still while he was gone. Satoru could run the Six Eyes continuously the whole time he was gone, of course, but not without frying his brain in the process. He was exhausted from their last mission, he’d need to use reverse cursed energy to heal his brain back to full power to keep it running for anything more than a few minutes. And he couldn’t use reversed cursed energy to heal his brain without also accidentally healing his still-red ass. And if Suguru returned and his ass was anything besides pink and red with the outlines of Suguru’s blows, he had already promised to replicate the effect tenfold. Satoru believed he would, too.
The tags of the collar jingled when his head moved to the side, and without the Six Eyes, Satoru was forced to imagine rather than reread the engraving written on the front of it. When they first got the collar, Suguru had made him read the engraving over and over again, all night long. So he wouldn’t forget it, Suguru had said. Satoru didn’t think it was possible to forget the image of himself bouncing on Suguru’s dick, gasping for air around every repeated moan of “I’m property of Suguru Getou.”
The collar jingled again, and he burrowed his face into the pillow beneath his head. The pillow was a mercy of Suguru’s- perhaps he felt bad for leaving Satoru tied up like this. Or felt bad for the spanking he had delivered before that, blows leaving Satoru’s ass red and cock leaking between his legs. Satoru knew that idea was the most unrealistic of all- Suguru never felt bad for spanking him. He couldn’t, Suguru had said once. It was too easy to see how much Satoru liked it.
It was true. Satoru did like it- and he wasn’t good at hiding it. As Suguru loved to remind him, it had only taken a week from their first hookup for Satoru to shyly suggest the idea. Like a slut.
Satoru groaned into the pillow beneath him, and flashed the Six Eyes on again, grinding his face further into the pillow in frustration when his Six Eyes picked up the empty hallways around him, nearby dorm rooms barren for the holiday break, and the faint imprint of Suguru’s soul, all the way in the library. He couldn’t tell what Suguru was doing, not without amping up the power of the Six Eyes, but Suguru didn’t look rushed. Satoru dropped the Six Eyes again, conserving his Cursed Energy, and his mind wandered back to the last night they had spent together, just before Satoru went on assignment.
Suguru hadn’t fucked him with the collar on, but that was alright. Suguru had other ways to remind Satoru who owned him. Satoru’s brain helpfully supplied the mental image of his legs pressed over his head, Suguru’s heavy weight on top of him and dick inside him, growling low and possessive in his ear about who’s good bitch Satoru was while he fucked him into the mattress. The memory makes his dick throb again, and he has to resist the urge to activate the Six Eyes, check on Suguru’s location, check that nobody would walk past Suguru’s locked dorm door and hear the sounds that Satoru keeps slipping out. Almost subconsciously, Satoru rocked his hips back, imagining for a moment Suguru’s hand over his head, holding on to the bedframe for leverage as he fucked into Satoru’s ass, talking filthily the entire time about how well Satoru took dick- his dick. Like he was made for it, Suguru had said. Satoru groaned into the pillow under his head, hips rocking in phantom movements at the memory of Suguru. Between his legs, the movement was jostling his dick, still half hard, and Satoru shifted his knees back- just slightly, just enough for him to lower himself onto his stomach. Suguru had told him to stay still, ass in the air and head down. That was true, but Suguru was also- after a quick flash of the Six Eyes to verify as such- still in the library. It would take him at least five minutes to get back to the room, even if he left now. Satoru didn’t need five minutes. He just needed a few seconds, some friction on his dick. He wouldn’t even cum, he told himself. That would leave a messy cleanup he wouldn't manage to hide with his hands tied behind his back. No, he would just take a second, rest his body, grind into Suguru’s sheets for some relief before he got back into position. That would be enough. That wouldn’t matter.
If he was more introspective, Satoru might have admitted that he was lying to himself from the get-go.
But Satoru wasn’t an introspective man, and so instead he ground his face further into the pillow, exhaling Suguru’s scent as his hips dropped fully to the bedspread. He rolled his hips, cock grinding against the bed beneath him, eyes sliding closed to return to his memories of a previous time. Like when Suguru hadn’t let him come for almost an hour, even after fucking him. Instead, his partner had tormented him with vibrators and filthy dirty talk, leaving Satoru twisting in desperation and begging for mercy. He had eventually delivered, of course, only after ruining two of Satoru’s orgasms back to back and making him beg for a third.
The thoughts of Suguru’s cruelty are getting to him more than they should, grinding into the bed with a new urgency. Already, the idea of stopping feels insane. Already, his brain is running away from him, providing snippets of every punishment and praise Suguru had provided for him. When he had defeated that Grade One curse last month without damaging the hospital it was in, Suguru had sweet-talked him endlessly while he stroked him off afterwards, nice and slow, Satoru’s back leaned into his chest and head rolled back against Suguru’s shoulder. It was so simple, and yet Satoru’s mind can’t stop revisiting the moment, Suguru’s seemingly bottomless well of praise for him. It made him dizzy, having Suguru tell him how good he was being, how obedient he was, how talented, how well he took cock- Satoru groaned into the pillows again, biting down on fabric needily. Fuck, Suguru would probably never praise him again if he found out Satoru was disobeying him this blatantly. The idea makes Satoru squirm in a different way- a hot sensation low in his gut, the sensation he always gets when he thinks about Suguru’s punishments. Dishing out punishment or showering Satoru in praise, it was all the same wasn’t it? It seemed to yield the same effect.
“Suguru.” The sound escaped his lips almost subconsciously, moaned into the pillow under his face. Then again, lower in his chest, “Suguru.” As if he could call Suguru back with sheer willpower. The grind of his hips into the bed was addicting, ass throbbing every time he moved with the reminder of Suguru’s hand spanking it. His hands strained in the ropes behind his back, cutting into his wrists. They were reinforced with Suguru’s cursed energy, a learned lesson after the last time Satoru had broken one of their sex toys. They had been cheap, flimsy handcuffs, snapping apart under Infinity when Satoru yanked a hand impulsively. Satoru was still pretty sure he could break these ropes, even with Suguru’s cursed energy on them. He didn’t want to try. He dug his wrists harder against the feeling of Suguru’s residual energy, muffled his gasps and groans into the pillow underneath him.
His brain was running ahead, flicking through his memories and wild fantasies. Suguru had threatened to spank him in public, one time, and right now Satoru almost wished he had. He had gotten close before- one time, in the dark of a restaurant in Kyoto, Suguru had snuck a hand under the table, long fingers flicking over Satoru’s thighs, face telling him to keep it under control. And Satoru had kept it under control, against the odds, even with Suguru’s nails dragging over his thighs every few minutes, getting closer to his bulge. He had been talking, voice criminally casual, when his hand had finally moved fully over Satoru’s crotch, palm pressing down just for a moment, just enough for Satoru to make a pained noise he tried to disguise with a cough. And then it was gone just as quickly, both of Suguru’s hands back above the table, eating his sushi, face quirked in mock concern at Satoru’s coughing fit. Remembering it now, Satoru almost wished he hadn’t stopped- had kept pressing his hand down on Satoru’s crotch, just hard enough to elicit small choking sounds of pain, right on the edge of good and bad. He didn’t care if the whole restaurant heard him, heard how good Suguru was at teasing him. How good Suguru was to him. It had taken him almost fifteen minutes to get himself under control, keep from popping a boner, and the whole time Suguru had seemed criminally casual, dropping an occasional “Alright there, Satoru?”. Later that night with his hands gripping Satoru’s ass in bed, he had asked “Is that stint at a restaurant all it takes to get you riled up, Satoru?” and Satoru had nodded until he felt like he’d pull a muscle.
With his face buried in Suguru’s pillow, Satoru’s breaths started to come faster. The bedspread underneath him wasn’t ideal for this- it was too soft, and it kept shifting whenever Satoru really moved into it. All the same, it was doing enough. Once, Suguru had made him hump a pillow to completion, almost like this. He had been spanked before then, too, face flushed as red in embarrassment as his ass was, Suguru’s hand tugging the leash attached to his collar, keeping his head down. Like a dog, Suguru had said. It had been something about Satoru not following directions. Needing to be trained, he had said. Satoru didn’t quite remember. What he did remember was how hard he came into his own pillow when Suguru yanked him closer by the collar around his neck, whispering “Good boy, Satoru.”
God, if he had Suguru’s voice right now, he’d have already reached completion. Soft, methodical, a perfect match for his face, a perfect foil to the filthy words he whispered. He had begged Suguru before to send him a voicemail, to give him something to get off to when they were apart on assignments. So far, Suguru hadn’t given in. Something about Satoru not deserving it. But maybe if he was good on the next mission, just maybe-
“Satoru.”
The shock was almost enough to make him activate Infinity on sheer instinct. The single word seemed to snap like a bullet through the room, Satoru’s head flying from pillows and snapping to face the door. Face the man currently standing in it, dark hair pulled back to a bun, the smallest of quirks on his lips as he surveyed the scene in front of him.
Fuck. Fuck, he hadn’t heard a sound Suguru made. He must have ran here, to make it back this soon.
Satoru gaped wordlessly for a moment, still frozen, cock leaking against Suguru’s bed. Distinctly not how Suguru told him to stay. The sound of Suguru closing the door behind him was what jumped Satoru into action, scrambling to his knees again as Suguru approached the bed, paces as predatory as an apex hunter.
“Satoru.” He repeated again, tongue clicking in disappointment. The blonde was halfway to opening his mouth, trying to talk his way out of this, when Suguru’s hand reached for his hair, winding through white strands for a moment before yanking Satoru’s head back, forcing blue eyes to meet black.
“‘m sorry-“ The words were half slurred with strain at the position, Satoru’s neck arched back and hands still tied behind his back. It didn’t stop him from trying to speak. “Thinking about you-“
Suguru’s tongue clicked again, hand tightening enough to make Satoru gasp in pain before releasing his hair, letting his disheveled white head of hair drop back to the pillow.
“Bad boy, Satoru.”
The words almost made Satoru’s cock ache again, significantly harder from when Suguru left the room in proof of his wrongdoing. He whined in response, opting for giving up on words.
“You know better.” Suguru was saying, and his tone was making something twist in Satoru’s gut. It was the voice he always used when he was partly lecturing Satoru and partly winding him up, voice on the edge of condescending and sultry. “I even halved the time you’d have to wait, and you couldn’t even handle that.”
“Sorry.” Satoru whined again, the word cut off this time by Suguru’s hand slapping his ass, making his hips jerk in surprise and voice pitch up. “Sorry, Suguru.”
“Quiet.” The command came with another slap across his ass, and Satoru’s eyebrows furrowed together in pain at the feeling on the already tender flesh. He almost opened his mouth on instinct, then clicked his jaw shut a second later.
“Bad dog.” Suguru said, voice low and purring, and Satoru whimpered. “You need to be taught a lesson, Satoru.”
He’s nodding before he really thinks about what he’s agreeing to, starting to rethink the words when another slap lands across his ass, much harder than the last.
“You keep thinking with your balls, Satoru.” Suguru’s voice was still low, almost condescending as those long fingers slid down his ass, one hand cupping the aforementioned body part. Suguru ran slightly cold, that much was true, but Satoru could swear that his hand felt especially cool right now, almost chilly against the warmer and more tender flesh it was currently holding. It felt even colder when Suguru’s hand tightened its grip, prompting a higher pitched gasp before he released them, hand moving back to land another slap across his ass.
“Such a slut,” Suguru’s voice could make anything sound good, but that felt especially true right now. “How am I going to punish you?”
If Satoru had any ideas, he didn’t share them. Suguru was almost surprised that he had managed to refrain from another meaningless comment, apparently heeding Suguru’s orders for once and keeping his mouth shut. Almost shut, anyway. When Suguru’s hand dipped to cup his balls again, the man beneath him moaned, low and desperate. He was pent up, managed to work himself to the edge of climax with Suguru out of the room. It really only left one option to bring him back from it. Suguru’s hand cupped Satoru’s balls again, this time tugging them, giving himself a good view. When they first ended up in bed together, inexperienced kisses and nervous laughter, it had almost been a surprise for him that Satoru’s body hair was as white as the hair on his head. It made him look strangely hairless, if he didn’t look closely. Satoru tensed, and Suguru felt the balls in his hand tense with him, tugging upwards momentarily. He punished the action with a downward tug of his own hand, prompting another whine from Satoru.
“Nod your head if you can use reverse cursed energy right now.” The command was so out of place that it almost broke Satoru’s daze. From above Suguru could see him start to react, then pause, brain processing the question. Then, hesitantly, Satoru bobbed his head into a nod of confirmation.
“Good.” Suguru didn’t bother with further warning before his other hand connected with the tender flesh of Satoru’s balls, the loud smack immediately followed by a choked gasp of pain from the blonde. Behind his back, Satoru’s hands tensed into fists, nails digging into his palms and back arching, every muscle tense in the exertion of keeping from crying out in either surprise or pain.
Suguru waited until he heard Satoru release a breath, and then landed another hit. He couldn’t tell if Satoru was doing it deliberately, but he felt the smallest touch of infinity for a second before contact, like Satoru’s subconscious had tried to block the blow for a split second. It still landed- he could see the stinging redness already forming, visible through trimmed white hair. He slapped again experimentally, this time tugging down Satoru’s balls as he did, and Satoru cried out underneath him. It was a choked sound, muffled into the pillow, but this time Infinity didn’t rise up.
“Bad dog.” It had made Satoru react earlier, and despite the pain currently radiating from his balls, it seemed to make him react now. He whimpered, shamefully loud, breaths catching in his chest. It sounded almost mournful- like Satoru was more upset about being told he was bad than having his balls spanked. Suguru’s hand released, and he was almost amused at the fact Satoru flinched at the movement.
Suguru took a moment to appreciate the view- Satoru’s milky thighs, still spread slightly apart, tensed with the effort to resist the urge to close them. And between those thighs, his prize- now swollen and flushed pink. For now.
“Heal.” Suguru ordered, and he could see the moment when the command processed for Satoru. The command and what it implied. Satoru shuddered, head almost twitching back to look at Suguru pleadingly. “Now, Satoru.” He added. Satoru lingered another moment before heeding the warning, blonde head dropping defeatedly with another whimper. A second later the sound of his reverse cursed energy filled the room, the redness fading from his ass and balls as quickly as it emerged. It was healing other parts of him, too- Suguru could see the tension let out of his shoulders, the small indents in his palms healing from where he had dug his nails in. He’s sure that Satoru can feel the warmth of his brain repairing from being fried with Six Eyes and Infinity for the past two days. He takes advantage of Satoru’s momentary distraction to ready his hand, waits until the hum of cursed energy fades from the room and Satoru untenses before he pulls his hand back, landing a smack of palm against skin across Satoru’s ass.
It gets the reaction he wanted- Satoru jerks forward in surprise, hands straining against their bindings for a moment. When Suguru lands another hit just above it, he can hear the low gasp even muffled by the pillow.
“Legs further apart.” He orders, and Satoru whimpers in response. He’s still heeding Suguru’s earlier order, keeping quiet, but hesitates marginally before obeying, spreading those pale thighs Suguru had just been admiring. Showing off his cock, still half-hard between his legs, and more importantly, giving Suguru a perfect view of those now-healed balls, flush gone from them.
“Good.” Suguru allows, and the word seems to make Satoru react almost as much as being hit. Satoru whimpers again, a more animalistic than human sound, and Suguru feels almost bad for the hard upwards slap he lands between Satoru’s legs, palm striking his balls and fingers landing against Satoru’s still-hard cock.
If Satoru didn’t already have his face buried into a pillow, he would have dropped it into one by now. The pain leaves him choking for a second, rocking mindlessly forward and back to try and disperse the pain radiating from between his legs.
“Good boy.” Suguru rewards again, soft from behind him, hand stroking down the length of Satoru’s spine. “Keep them apart, just like that.”
The praise is almost enough to make the pain subside momentarily, until the sensation of Suguru’s hand striking his balls once again wipes most coherent thought out of Satoru’s brain. He makes a sound more akin to a wordless moan of pain into the pillow beneath him, thighs shaking momentarily at the effort to avoid slamming them shut. Still, he manages to refrain from moving, and Suguru’s hand is rewardingly stroking down his spine again.
“Three more here, Satoru,” The words make the blonde groan again, eyes still shut and breaths hitching. He hasn’t activated the Six Eyes, not without permission, but he can imagine Suguru’s delicate hands gliding over his ass as much as he feels them. A smack lands on his ass, and he whines wordlessly, cock leaking between his legs when he nods his head.
From behind, Suguru has a perfect view of pale skin and white hair, Satoru’s fisted hands still tied up behind his back, arms tense and showing off the muscles he’s been working so hard on recently. Satoru tenses as if he can tell he’s being admired, shifting his head to burrow into the pillow beneath him. And then, hesitantly, he shifts his legs further apart, fighting every impulse to protect his balls and instead giving Suguru better access to punish them. Suguru can’t tell if it’s more endearing or slutty. He decides to reward the gesture either way.
“Good.” Suguru allows, and then the next blow connects. Underneath him, Satoru twists in pain, feeling first the impact and then the red-hot stinging of Suguru’s hand between his legs. It’s enough to prompt a wordless gasp from him, breaths hitching for a second as he forgets to breathe. From behind him, Suguru flexed his wrist, working the tension out of his hand. Giving Satoru time to catch up. He’s about to open his mouth to reassure the blonde again when he hears it, voice strained and breathless from pain,
“Thank you, Suguru.”
It might be a new low- or high- for Satoru. Sure, having Suguru punish him is nothing new. Still, he can’t remember another time he’s ever thanked him for it. At least not without being ordered to. Satoru seems almost self conscious, as if the words left his mouth without his consent. He’s about to mumble something else to distract from the shameless submission, but Suguru’s hand is stroking his ass reassuringly, and his voice is almost a purr when he speaks.
“Good boy.” There’s such blatant arousal in his voice that it makes Satoru shudder. If voices could work people to orgasm, he’s pretty sure Suguru would find a way to do it. “My good puppy, Satoru, thanking his master.” Suguru was running with this dog thing, taking their particular brand of collaring in a different direction, but Satoru could hardly find it in himself to protest. Instead, he whines low again in his throat, almost demonstratively, and leans his ass back towards his owner.
“You like that?” Suguru asks, and there’s almost a note of teasing in his voice before his hand connects between his legs again, temporarily blinding Satoru with pain and leaving him heaving for air, thighs twitching in effort to avoid doubling in on himself in pain. He nods his head wordlessly, tears stinging his eyes with exertion, and Suguru strokes a hand over his ass again.
“Such a good dog.” He’s got a handful of Satoru’s ass, kneading into it and relishing the low sound of attraction that comes from the blonde, Satoru choking out a moan around gasps for air. It turns into a hitched moan of pain when Suguru’s other hand dips lower, stroking over his balls, now red with abuse, and then to his dick. He’s still half hard, despite the slaps. Maybe because of reverse cursed energy, Suguru thinks. Or maybe because Satoru’s a slut.
“You like being a dog, Satoru?” It’s teasing, blatantly so, and it’s then that Suguru remembers what this exercise was meant to be in the first place- that’s right, he almost forgot. Satoru was in this situation because he had been bullying the underclassmen. Well, he does love a punishment fitting the crime. Satoru nods his head shamefully, and Suguru squeezes his ass again, giving a slow stroke over his dick. “You like serving your master?” Satoru nods his head again, breaths starting to even out as he moans again in agreement, hips shifting into Suguru’s hand around his dick. “Say it, Satoru.”
“I like..” Satoru’s first attempts at the words are cut off by a higher pitched sound of pleasure when Suguru’s hand moves again, chest shuddering on an inhale of air. “I like serving my master Suguru.”
“Good puppy.” Satoru knows the words shouldn’t make him react as shamelessly as he does, but he moans again anyway. He knows Suguru is biding time, feeling up his ass and stroking Satoru back to a full erection just to slap it out of him. Still, it feels impossible to resist right now. He’s convinced he’d say anything right now if Suguru told him to. He might swear his undying loyalty to him. Then again, he might do that even with a clear head.
“Whose property are you?” Suguru asks, hand tensing enough to bruise the flesh on Satoru’s ass, shoving him just enough to make the tags on the collar clink in reminder. It’s a line he’s made Satoru say before. It still gets a reaction.
“I’m Suguru Getou’s property.” The words are almost a moan, eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. Satoru knows the last hit is still coming, the other shoe hasn’t fallen. And yet it’s hard to avoid melting into Suguru’s hands, especially when Suguru strokes his cock again to reward the words.
“Again.” Suguru’s voice would be harsh if it wasn’t also dripping with arousal, if Satoru couldn’t feel the other man’s growing erection brushing the back of his thigh.
“I’m Suguru Getou’s property.” The words come more readily, Satoru arching his back towards Suguru before he thinks twice about it. Begging for more. And then, even though he hasn’t been ordered to say it, “I’m Suguru Getou’s dog.”
“My good dog.” Suguru purrs from behind him, and it’s then that he lands the last hit between Satoru’s legs. It almost seems like it takes a second for Satoru to react, brain catching up to the impact and then pain of Suguru’s hand landing squarely on his balls, palm smacking upwards. Satoru chokes, voice cracking on what would have been an inhaled breath and legs straining momentarily in mindless effort to get away from the source of the pain. With his hands behind his back Satoru can’t exactly go anywhere, but it doesn’t stop the spontaneous movements his legs keep trying to make, tensed and twitching intermittently. It seems like an eternity before he can get through enough of the pain to force in an inhaled breath, choking silence replaced by gasps for air. He barely realizes that he’s started to cry, eyes watering in pain involuntarily as his body twists, trying to escape the radiating white-hot sensation from Suguru’s hit. As the pain lessens from white-hot to a throb of agony, he starts to realize that Suguru is stroking his thighs, and a second later is able to process that the warmth pressed across his back is Suguru’s bare chest. He missed the point when Suguru got his shirt off, but Suguru purrs low and reassuring in his ear, “Perfect, Satoru. Good, good dog.” and he doesn’t quite find it within him to care.
The wordless gasp that Satoru makes might have merely been shaped like Suguru’s name, but the other man reacts as if it was, pressing a kiss to one pale shoulder blade as he starts to undo the ropes around Satoru’s wrists. “Shhh.. good dog.” he soothes again, and Satoru whines so pathetically Suguru can’t resist moving his kisses higher, pressing one against Satoru’s tear-damp cheek. “Good work, Satoru. You did perfectly.” Satoru moans at the praise, even through the lingering throbs of pain from his balls, and Suguru’s hand moves back around his dick. He can feel Satoru twitch at the contact, so he moves his hand back, keeping his grip light as he strokes once, slow and rewarding, before going back to the bindings around Satoru’s wrists.
“Such a good boy, taking your master’s punishment so well.” Suguru is still praising him, and either the pain or the words have Satoru’s head feeling light. Right now, his whole world seems to consist of Suguru Getou. He never wants it to expand.
Satoru whines wordlessly again underneath him, hands not moving even when the bindings around his wrists are finally released. “Satoru.” He coaxes, fingers tapping against the blonde’s wrists as if to make him remember his other two limbs exist. Slowly, Satoru seems to be recovering from the pain, breathing still heavy pants for air but slowly growing less pained. With Suguru’s prompting he starts to move his hands, rotating both wrists slowly before slowly dragging his hands to drop beside his head. The movement in the sore muscles makes him moan in relief, and then in pleasure when Suguru strokes his dick again rewardingly.
“You okay?” Suguru’s voice is different from the usual controlling one he uses in bed, and it makes Satoru melt, just a little, in a different way.
“I’m good.” The words are half mumbled into the pillow, but Suguru still strokes his dick again rewardingly. Then, “Did I do well?”
It’s shameless bait for further praise, but Suguru decides he’s earned it this time. “So well.” He coos, both hands shifting to Satoru’s ass, fingers kneading into the pale skin there, spreading him open to admire. Satoru must know where Suguru’s mind is headed, because he’s squirming again suddenly, trying to spread his legs wider again, apparently having gotten his bearings back.
“Let me suck your fingers.” Satoru sounds halfway between asking and pleading, back arching to nudge his ass back again against Suguru’s hand. “Please, Suguru.”
Suguru huffs a laugh before he intends to, right hand shifting to grab Satoru’s jaw instead of his ass, rougher than strictly necessary when he slides two fingers past Satoru’s lips. “I was going to make you do it anyway.”
Satoru makes a noise of wordless agreement, moving his jaw to avoid his teeth brushing Suguru’s fingers, tongue forward to cushion them like he’s giving a blowjob. Suguru squeezes his ass again in satisfaction, baggy pants suddenly feeling significantly too tight.
“Tell me how you want it, Satoru.” His voice is still coaxing, left hand kneading into the flushed skin of Satoru’s ass. Suguru thinks, not for the first or last time, that Satoru’s got a perfect ass. It almost seems to beg to be slapped or fucked. Almost as much as Satoru’s mouth does.
“Rough.” The words are slightly garbled around Suguru’s fingers on his tongue, but Satoru delivers them with enough shameless sincerity that it doesn’t seem to matter, lips sliding down to the base of Suguru’s fingers, tongue running along the underside of them when he withdraws with a wet pop. “Make me cry some more.”
Suguru almost makes a comment at that, ask Satoru either sarcastically or sincerely if he’s in one of his moods. He’s been getting into them more recently, usually after their missions. The nights where he seems to beg and plead for Suguru to knock him down a few notches, demands to be told he’s nothing but Suguru’s fucktoy. Nights where he doesn’t seem like he’s satisfied until Suguru leaves him strung out and shaking, red handprints and bruises marking up his body. Suguru thinks, privately, that it might be Satoru’s way of navigating it: His newfound status as the strongest, the new reverence he seems to be given by strangers. Well, he supposes there are unhealthier ways to cope.
As if he knows Suguru’s thinking too deeply, Satoru slides his tongue down against his fingers again, dragging him out of being too introspective. “Please, Suguru.” He makes a pretty sight like this, arms still sprawled beside his head, fingers curled in the sheets, back arched and ass up. It’s impossible to refuse.
“Alright.” Suguru almost grunts the words, his hand at Satoru’s ass shifting to finally unbutton his pants. “I’ll give my puppy what it wants.” Satoru moans at the words, head nodding as best he can around the fingers in his mouth before they withdraw.
Another second and Suguru’s parachute pants and boxers are on the floor, bed dipping when he puts his full weight onto it, kneeling behind his one and only.
Satoru whines again, mouth feeling empty without Suguru’s fingers. Suguru opts to give him something else to focus on, hand landing another slap on the pale flesh of his ass before Suguru’s spit-wet fingers circle his entrance. The blonde seems to melt into the sheets in response, breaths hitching when Suguru starts to work in one finger.
“Suguru.” He’s not sure what he’s begging for, but Suguru’s finger slides fully inside, second finger already probing, and it’s all he can do to resist pleading for more. Pleading for this to never stop.
“Who owns you?” Suguru purrs the words, and it makes something in Satoru’s gut twist to hear such blatant approval.
“Suguru Getou does. I’m Suguru Getou’s property.” Suguru knows it isn’t for show when Satoru moans halfway through the phrase, reacting as sensitively as always to having Suguru inside him- even if it’s just his finger so far. The collar jingles again when Satoru shfits his head to reply, clinking as if to punctuate the words with the clinking of metal tags with the same phrase.
“I belong to Suguru Getou.” He hadn’t been ordered to repeat it again, but it feels like second nature to do so, especially when Suguru’s second finger slides fully inside him, digits twitching and then curling, coaxing another breathless gasp from the blonde.
“Fuck, Suguru.” Satoru’s hands in the sheets have already tightened into fists, breaths hitching into a whimper when Suguru’s thumb strokes his stretched entrance a second later.
“What’s on the front of the collar, Satoru?” Privately, Satoru acknowledges that Suguru’s voice is sounding more harsh by the minute, starting to get lost in his own desire. It’s enough to make him moan again.
“Property of Suguru Getou.” His voice wavers from eagerness more than embarrassment, breaths catching when Suguru’s fingers scissor inside him. “I’m property of Suguru Getou.”
“That’s right.” Suguru praises, low and controlling, thumb still stroking the rim of Satoru’s entrance when his fingers scissor again, working him open. “You’re my property, aren’t you?”
Satoru nods like his life depends on it, thighs trembling in the sheets when he feels Suguru’s fingers brush against the edge of the bundle of nerves inside him, so close to where Satoru wants them.
“Easy, puppy.” Suguru coaxes, fingers retreating to stretch out his entrance again, leaving Satoru whining again, pleasure just out of reach.
“You own me.” Satoru sounds strangely desperate, even for someone being worked up like this. Like he’s trying to convince himself of something, Suguru thinks. Or maybe pretend. Then Satoru moans again, walls fluttering around his fingers, and Suguru decides he can save the reflection for when he doesn’t have his fingers knuckle-deep in a perfect ass. Satoru hitches another breath, moaning again wordlessly into the sheets beneath his face, and Suguru barely thinks before he scissors them again, pulling another wordless sound out of the blonde.
“That’s right.” He rewards, fingers working Satoru open steadily. “I own you.” It’s a reassurance as much as anything else, and Satoru seems to melt further against the sheets in response, head nodding again. It seems like all too soon when Suguru’s fingers withdraw, coaxing a drawn out whine from him.
“Shh, puppy.” Suguru’s free hand lands another slap, cutting Satoru’s whine into a gasp. “Are you ready?”
Satoru nods frantically from beneath him, back arching again when Suguru spreads him open, admiring the view for another moment, thumb moving to circle that perfect entrance. Then Suguru’s hands drop, and Satoru makes a drawn out sound of loss. Behind him, he can hear Suguru moving around, grabbing something from his abandoned pants on the floor. When Suguru speaks again, it’s through grit teeth, using his incisors to tear open a packet of lube. Satoru knows without looking that it’s one of the packs Suguru made him get on their last mission.
“Beg.” Suguru might just be buying time for him to get the lube packet open and his dick ready, but Satoru won’t be the one to protest.
“Please, Suguru.” Satoru obeys the command without question, on the brink of losing control. He thinks he’d happily take anything Suguru wanted to give him right now. Another spanking, more slaps to his dick, anything to have Suguru’s hands back on him. “Please fuck me.”
As if answering his prayers, the bed dips when Suguru returns, one hand finding its place on Satoru’s ass once more. A second more and Satoru can feel Suguru’s dick nudging his entrance, Suguru’s lube-slick hand positioning himself.
“Suguru.” It sounds more like a plea than anything else, and Suguru obliges, one hand steadying on Satoru’s ass as he starts to slide into the blonde. It draws a groan from him as well, feeling Satoru brace beneath him. His Satoru probably could have done with more prep, he’ll admit. He’s not squirming in pain, not quite, but he’s on the brink of being stretched to discomfort, breaths catching in his chest. From behind, Suguru can see how he keeps tensing and untensing, trying to stay relaxed.
“Good boy.” He allows, hand stroking Satoru’s lower back when he fully sheaths himself, feeling the blonde relax around him. “That’s it. Good puppy, Satoru.”
Satoru makes a wordless sound, hands tugging the sheets beneath him. It might have been Suguru’s name, or maybe a swear- he can’t tell. He doesn’t even think Satoru knows.
“That’s it.” He repeats, hand stroking Satoru’s lower back again. He’s debating between pulling back and going back to stretching Satoru open, or staying still and giving him more time to adjust. Satoru, it seems, wants neither.
“Rough.” The blonde repeats, this time lifting his head enough to vocalize the words properly. “Rough, Suguru.”
“Fuck.” He’s probably in over his head, he thinks. He should give Satoru more time to adjust, calm down, and then continue. He definitely shouldn’t plant a hand on Satoru’s lower back for momentum, pull almost all the way out, and then snap his hips into the inviting heat around his cock. He does it anyway.
Satoru’s resulting gasp is almost an outright shout, face dropping back to the sheets and hands clenched on the bedspread. Suguru thinks he might have moved to suddenly, but then Satoru is shifting back against him again, breaths hitching with excitement as much as pain.
“More, Suguru.”
It’s easier to oblige than protest. His lube-slick hand shifts to Satoru’s front, stroking his dick again before Suguru starts to move, following the inviting drag of heat around his cock. It seems to be exactly what Satoru wanted, the blonde dissolving into hitched breaths and moans.
“Like that, puppy?” His own breaths are starting to get strained, a bead of sweat sliding down one arm when he moves into Satoru. He can feel the bed rocking, can hear the creek of wood protesting their combined weight and movements.
“Like that.” Satoru barely gets the words out, face twisted into breathless pleasure and half-pressed against the sheets.
“Say it again.” Suguru demands, nails digging into one of Satoru’s hips, and the blonde seems to know what he means without him elaborating.
“I’m property of Suguru Getou.” The words are barely audible, spoken through gasps and moans of Suguru moving deeper into him. All the same, Suguru rewards the effort, hand stroking around Satoru’s dick in time with his next thrust. Satoru’s breaths hitch again, loud enough that he almost misses the next command.
“Again.” Suguru demands, harsher from behind him, and Satoru moans before he can help it.
“I’m property of Suguru Getou.” The words have been running through his head so much that they almost seem to lose meaning, lost somewhere in the haze of pleasure and pain. Even through the haze in his head, Satoru can feel Suguru’s thrusts redoubling in effort, the snap of his hips and slap of sweat-damp skin drowning out his thoughts for a moment.
“Heal, Satoru.” Suguru demands, abruptly, and Satoru almost opens his mouth to ask why before Suguru continues, words demanding from behind him. “Heal and keep this ass tight for me.”
Satoru doesn’t drink. But he’s pretty sure if he did, it would feel something like this. Hot weight in his stomach, Suguru’s words running through him like a power line. Maybe this is why people become alcoholics.
“Yes, Suguru.” He manages, a moan following the word when Suguru’s fingers clench down harder on his ass in response.
“Heal.” Suguru repeats, this time with the prompt of nails, leaving a soon-to-be-vanished line of red semi-circles at Satoru’s hip. The blonde moans again, and Suguru feels more than he hears Satoru’s shaky inhale and exhale as the hum of reverse cursed energy once again fills the room.
The skin under Suguru’s fingers repairs itself, bruises fading as quickly as they were brought to the surface. Around his cock, Suguru can feel Satoru’s ass tightening, clamping down on him like a vice. He hisses between his teeth at the sensation, fingers digging into Satoru’s hip anew. It doesn’t seem like Satoru even processes the feeling, too busy whimpering and moaning into the blankets as he’s stretched anew, Suguru’s cock in his ass holding muscles open even when they want to tighten. He gasps again, newly restored body out of pace with his still-lust-addled brain.
“Keep going.” Satoru’s voice sounds begging. More than begging- he sounds on the brink of climax without his dick being touched, sensation enough from the back and forth flow of RCE and Suguru’s dick. Even so, his words sound steadier, reverse cursed energy healing even the strain in his voice. Suguru doesn’t think he’ll ever fully get used to Satoru having this kind of power, but before he can devote time to that thought, the man in question is twisting his head to try to make eye contact over one shoulder. “Keep going, Suguru.”
The words are a demand, and normally Suguru would refuse a demand. But Satoru’s eyes are big and pleading, and Suguru gives in wordlessly, lube-slicked hand moving to Satoru’s waist to properly pull the blonde against his hips, sliding almost entirely free before snapping his hips into the now unnaturally tight ass in front of him. Satoru’s breaths catch in return, back arching to offer his ass up. It’s perfect- the burn of Suguru stretching his muscles open, the renewed healing sensation whenever he withdraws. He wishes he knew how to control his RCE better- maybe he could keep his ass healed without also wiping away the burning red slaps Suguru had delivered on it. Maybe if he got Shoko’s help-
Suguru grunts when he strikes particularly deeply inside Satoru, being rewarded by the sound of his sheets being pulled from the corner of his bed. Satoru doesn’t even seem to process that the action was his doing, that his hand involuntarily tensed enough to pull the sheets off the mattress. Satoru doesn’t seem to process anything for a moment, coherent thoughts fading into a flash of sheer pleasure at Suguru’s dick against his prostate. It might be the reverse cursed energy, or maybe he’s just wound up, but he could swear it feels more sensitive. Like Suguru’s hitting it for the first time.
The sound he made definitely wasn’t any human language, more of a wordless sound of pleasure, but Suguru seems to know what he wants anyway. He feels the dick inside him move back just enough to hit the same bundle of nerves when he sinks into him again, and this time Satoru barely realizes that he’s rocking his hips back, trying to get Suguru deeper, rougher inside him. He’s got tears pricking the corners of his eyes at the unending burn of being stretched open, and he’s never been harder in his life.
Suguru is moving into him with renewed vigor, the endlessly tight drag of Satoru’s walls around him putting his own pleasure within grasp. The sound of the bed slamming against the wall seems more like background noise, especially when compared to the heavenly sounds Satoru keeps making beneath him, hitched moans and cries of pain and pleasure. It’s easier to give in than to think about it, to worry about anyone hearing them. Let them hear, he almost thinks. Let them hear him and his Satoru, hear how well he can treat him. How nicely he can make Satoru sing for him.
“Suguru!” Once again, it’s more of a moan than a word. Once again, Suguru doesn’t care. He’s moving deeper into Satoru, single-mindedly chasing the same cluster of nerves which make Satoru convulse in pleasure. If he died right now, he thinks it would be a happy death.
He can tell Satoru is close to hitting his limit, and he isn’t wrong. Suguru barely has time to get a hand around Satoru’s cock before he’s cumming, eyes rolling and legs shuddering with how quickly the pleasure seems to roll over him. He’s moving his hips back against Suguru’s dick and forward into Suguru’s hand, breaths strained and hitching beautifully. From here, Suguru can see the traces of tears stinging his eyes, Satoru’s face twitching into wordless pleasure with every thrust. He slows his thrusts just enough to focus on Satoru’s cock, hand milking him for everything he’s worth. Underneath his hands, Satoru is more putty than sorcerer, gasping on the edge of overstimulation as he manages one last spurt of cum, chest heaving for air when Suguru pulls out.
He could be more gentle with tugging his dick free from Satoru’s ass, it’s true. But Satoru’s still running reverse cursed energy, and Suguru’s only human. It feels like only human nature to roll Satoru onto his back, throw one of those long legs over either one of his shoulders, and start to stroke himself to completion between Satoru’s legs.
Beneath him, Satoru’s dick twitches weakly at the sight, blue eyes half-lidded to watch Suguru, collar jingling with every movement. Even moments after an orgasm and with his legs thrown over Suguru’s shoulders, he manages to look good. It’s unreasonable, Suguru thinks, for Satoru to always look so good. It’s more unreasonable for Satoru to bite his lip and gasp out “Cum on me, Suguru.”
It’s unreasonable, and Satoru does it anyway. Suguru’s free hand clenches around one of his legs automatically, tugging Satoru closer. Another moment, a few more strokes of his hand and Satoru gets his wish, Suguru’s eyes sliding shut with a bitten “fuck” as his release splatters across Satoru’s stomach. His whole body shakes for a second, giving Satoru a perfect view of stray black strands of hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, skin flushed pink and hand moving frantically around his dick, milking his own cock just as he was milking Satoru’s a second ago.
Even as the pleasure fades, it isn’t for several long moments before Suguru opens his eyes again. When he does, he’s slow to let out a breath, dizzy in pleasure. Satoru is starting to move, sliding his legs from Suguru’s shoulders, but replacing them on either side of his waist. Suguru starts to open his mouth, get up from bed and clean up, but Satoru is tugging him closer with those same legs, leaning up just enough for a wordless demand.
Suguru obliges, putting his weight onto one hand beside Satoru’s head and ducking down enough for a kiss. Satoru moans into his lips, low and satisfied, and Suguru wonders if he planned things to end this way.
“You okay?” He asks breathlessly when they part, Satoru making a content sound beneath him in response.
“All good.” Satoru promises, and Suguru can see that he’s already starting to get his breath back, reverse cursed energy leaving his body already no worse for the wear. Suguru isn’t sure if he should feel envious when his thighs ache in protest when he sits up. “Let’s do that again- the reverse cursed energy feels weird, but it’s good. You could try spanking me while I run it, I think I could control it better next time,”
Satoru’s voice continues, the blonde musing about the various implications of his reverse cursed energy as he reclines back on Suguru’s bed, and it’s all Suguru can do to huff a laugh as he detangles himself, getting up to find a towel to clean them both up.
“Sounds good, Satoru.” He agrees, fondness lacing his tone before he means to. He’ll let Satoru have this, he decides. This moment before Suguru reminds him that he’s got another punishment coming, that he didn’t yet earn forgiveness for disobeying him.
Satoru looks so pleased with himself that Suguru almost smiles when he hands across a towel. He’ll tell Satoru tomorrow, he decides. He can’t wait to see that cock, soft and still flushed against Satoru’s thigh, in a cage. Let alone see the look on its owner's face.
“What’s funny?” Satoru asks from the bed, and Suguru almost laughs aloud.
“Nothing, Satoru. Just looking forward to tomorrow.”