Work Text:
There's a common misconception surrounding Isagi Yoichi's whole life.
The stadium roars. Confetti falls like rain, catching in his hair, sticking to his sweat-slicked skin, and Yoichi stands at the center of it all - the axis around which the world now turns - and lets the noise wash over him.
The cameras find him immediately as he straightens. They always do, nowadays. Tuned in for the scrappy protagonist who clawed his way to the top with nothing but grit and determination. The headlines are already writing themselves, reporters with their microphones thrown his way, frantic. Yoichi could practically picture the new title scrolling behind his eyes.
Isagi Yoichi, the Demon King of Blue Lock
He lets his mouth morph into a smile at the thought and turns it on the cameras zoomed on his face. The smile makes his eyes crinkle at the corners, cheeks flushing with just the right amount of boyish modesty, and Yoichi knows without fail that the internet will eat it up.
Because as they say, the internet notices everything. But no, that's not true in the slightest.
No one notices where Yoichi's attention truly is focused on.
No one sees where his gaze keeps drifting, where it lands and lingers, hungry and dark, as the German team collapses to their knees on the pitch.
Michael Kaiser is on his hands, crouched low on the floor, chest heaving, sweat dripping from the tips of his rose-gold hair as the blue strands sway in the breeze. His chest heaves, exhaustion and loss, settling in, fury burning within those glacial irises.
Isagi Yoichi has officially won over Michael Kaiser.
The Blue Rose, wilted. The Emperor, dethroned. Yoichi's grin sharpens at the edges at the realization, and he walks slowly until he's standing over Kaiser's crumpled form. He crouches down, one hand bracing against his own knee, and tilts his head like he's examining something curious.
"Hey," he says, voice light, almost friendly. "Look at me."
Kaiser's head lift and Yoichi almost curses at the sight. His eyes is a wildfire, blue burning into blue, and the hatred there is a living thing-crackling, spitting, desperate to consume. Yoichi feels the heat of it curl low in his stomach. "There you are," he murmurs, and his hand moves before he can think better of it-fingers catching Kaiser's chin, tilting his face up further, baring the long pale column of his throat. "Now, come on. Celebrate my win. The clown should rightfully serve the victorious King, shouldn't he?"
Kaiser's jaw clenches beneath his grip. "I'l kill you," he breathes, and the words scrape out of his throat like they've been dragged, trembling with barely leashed violence. "I'm going to fucking kill you, Yoichi.
He likes the sound of that.
Yoichi leans in close, lips brushing the shell of Kaiser's ear, breath ghosting across the pulse hammering in his throat. The cameras are still rolling, confetti falling, and He's sure that from every other angle, they're caught in what looks like sportsmanship - the gracious winner consoling his fallen enemy and he allows another smirk.
No one hears the whisper.
"That's the plan, right?" Yoichi swallows, desire pulsing beneath his veins, thumb tracing the line of Kaiser's jaw. "Going to kill me? Destroy me?" He pulls back, and the smile is back in place - soft, humble, camera-ready. "Wreck me until I can't walk?"
Kaiser lets out a groan, taking a breath as if to control himself. "Every word," he scowls, eyes darkening.
"That better be a promise."
---
"Yo-kun!" Bachira launches himself onto Yoichi's back, arms locking around his neck. His weight is familiar, and Yoichi stumbles forward a step before catching himself. "We're going out! You have to come-you scored the winning goal, you have to celebrate!"
Yoichi pries Bachira's fingers loose, one by one, and forces a tired smile. "Sorry. I'm beat." The exhaustion in his voice isn't entirely feigned - his legs still feel like jelly, lungs still burning, but they're not the real reason stopping him. "Everything's still spinning. Think I need to crash.'"
Rin scoffs from across the room, not looking up from where he's unlacing his cleats. "Probably dehydrated from all that crying."
Yoichi rolls his eyes before speaking: "Jealousy's not a good look, Rin."
Barou crosses his arms, unimpressed. "What a goody two-shoes. The celebration's half the victory, you know." His eyes narrow, scanning Yoichi's face like he's looking for cracks. "You sure you're not sneaking off to do something weird?"
"Barou, don't be mean," Hiori says mildly, but even he's giving Yoichi a curious look. Then there's Shidou, mouth wide with a grin, sharp and wolfish, and now slinging an arm around Yoichi's shoulders. Ah fuck.
"Blueberry-kun should go pick up some girls. You've earned it." He waggles his eyebrows. "Still so innocent. The internet's always right about you, huh?"
Yeah. That's the common misconception.
Yoichi laughs-a practiced sheepish sound that usually fits the narrative perfectly. He rubs the back of his neck, shuffling away. That's the cue for him to leave. "Alright, alright. You guys go ahead. Have fun for me."
A chorus of goodbyes follows him out. Bachira's exaggerated pout, Hiori's polite wave, even Rin's raised middle finger, which Yoichi returns with a smirk before letting the door swings shut behind him.
The corridors blur. His footsteps echo too loud in the silence and anticipation coils within him tighter with every step towards his hotel room.
He doesn't remember pulling out the keycard or the click of the lock.
But he remembers what comes next
The door slams shut behind him with a deafening bang, and before the echo fades, Kaiser is on him. Firm hands cage him against the door, one on either side of his head, and the air rushes out of Yoichi's lungs in a startled gasp. Kaiser's body slots against his immediately chest to chest, hip to hip-and the proximity is electric, a live wire pressed directly to his skin.
"You're late," Kaiser snaps, and his voice is dry as dust. The hand wrapped around Yoichi's collar tugs him forward until their foreheads nearly collide. "I've been waiting for almost an hour."
"Yeah?" Yoichi shoots back, but his voice is already breathless, pitched low, the defiance cracking at the edges as Kaiser flings him harder against the door. The wood rattles in its frame. "Did your feelings get hurt, my clown? Miss me that much?"
Kaiser's answering laugh is a quiet, vicious thing. He shifts his grip from Yoichi's collar to his jaw, fingers digging into the hinge, forcing his head back until the column of his throat is fully exposed. The motion makes Yoichi's heart ignite to life, and the german's breath ghosting across his skin as he speaks doesn't help at all.
"They still call you innocent," he murmurs, almost mesmerized as he drags his thumb along the line of Yoichi's jaw, just once, enough to make him shiver. "The humble Demon King. The boy next door..." He dips his head lower, lips brushing the pulse point hammering in his throat, and Yoichi's eyes flutter half-shut against his will. "None of them know what a desperate little slut you actually are."
Yoichi swallows, saliva pooling as Kaiser closes the distance even further. His hands find the other's shirt, automatic, fisting the fabric hard enough to strain the seams. "And they still call you menacing," he breathes, blazing eyes meeting Kaiser's own. "Despite you falling apart the moment I crook my finger around you. So I guess reputation doesn't mean much after all."
An inhale. "Of course it doesn't," The german says, and his hips roll forward, a slow pressure that sends arousal skittering down Yoichi's spine. God, it feels good. He tries to lean away, but Kaiser's grip on him is lethal, and he ends up slipping directly onto Kaiser's already straining cock, the fiction burning beneath his eyes. The burst of pleasure has him throwing his head back with a gasp, and Kaiser takes the chance to attack his neck. "Because we both know the truth, don't we, Yoichi?" His tongue flicks out, hot and wet, tasting the salt on his skin. "We've always know exactly what you are..."
The scoff catches in Yoichi's throat, turning into something lower and needier. "Yet you're the one who waited. An hour. On your knees, probably. Pathetic." He can’t move, but he tries anyway, writhing against the wall and clenching his fingers into fists. Kaiser's tongue traces the shell of Yoichi's ear and he trembles from the pleasure of it, knees wobbling. This man lost to him only mere hours ago, how dare he expect him to just take it.
"Careful, now," Kaiser's grip tightens on his jaw, dragging him forward. He dips his tongue directly into Yoichi's ear, dragging down to his earlobe, teeth grazing the sensitive skin before his lips follow with a wet, open-mouthed press. "I've had an hour to think about what I'm going to do to you." He whispers nipping at the nub and Yoichi tilts his head to chase the touch. "You're not going to walk tomorrow."
Kaiser is going to fucking die tonight. Yoichi is gonna get fucked real good and then choke the german to death. Wrap his fingers around that pale throat in a clean grip and press. How dare he forget who won the match today - Yoichi odd to -
Grunting, Kaiser ruts against him again and Yoichi's hips jerk forward on instinct, forgetting it's complaints just a moment ago. Kaiser's tongue pushes into his racing pulse point at the same time, and when he sucks it between his lips it feels like a mockery.
The friction is delicious and nowhere near enough. Yoichi lets out a broken sound that Kaiser drinks in with obvious satisfaction. His vision is already blurring at the edges, arousal pooling hot and urgent in his gut, and he grips the front of Kaiser's shirt hard enough to hear something tear.
"You can try." Yoichi gasps, but it comes out too wrecked, completely undercutting the defiance he'd aimed for. He tries again, baring his teeth, but all that escapes is a shaky exhale as Kaiser's mouth travels down his neck, sucking a bruise into the tender spot just below his ear. "I doubt you can live up to that threat."
"Who said it was a threat?" Kaiser's free hand travels down, palm flattening against Yoichi's hip, fingers pressing into the jut of his bone hard enough to bruise and a whine forces it's way out of his throat. "The only reason you wanted to win against me," he whispers, voice rough, "is so I'd bend you over and fuck you until you forget your own name." Kaiser rolls his hips upwards again and Yoichi's hips betray him, following and twitching into the motion with a gasp. He's given another reason to hate this bastard. Kaiser is so arrogant, so convinced that Yoichi's under his control, that he'll fall part because he's got his hands on him. It infuriates him as much as it fills every cell of his with the painful need for more.
"Come on, Yoichi," Kaiser hisses, teeth dragging on the column of his collarbone. "You know you want me to fuck you until you black out."
The thought of Kaiser's cock pistolling deep inside his walls being the last thing he feels before losing his mind sends shivers cascading down his spine. Yoichi moans, low and deep and stands there for a second, dazed, until his eyes focus on the smug expression on Kaiser's face.
"That's right," Kaiser breathes, the satisfaction in his voice obscene. "That's the sound I was waiting for."
Righteous anger blinds him and he fists Kaiser's shirt roughly, dragging him closer. "Shut up," Yoichi demands, using the man as an anchor for a world that's starting to spin. His cheeks are flushed, eyes glassy with lust, and he hates how easily the man can undo him just like that. "You don't get to-"
Kaiser's mouth descends on his sweet spot, the wet heat of his tongue dragging down Yoichi's neck, pausing at every pulse point like he's tasting him, memorizing him, claiming every inch of skin as his own and Yoichi forgets how to breathe.
"So mouthy," Kaiser murmurs against his collarbone, and Yoichi reluctantly lets him. "I remember when you used to pretend you didn't want this. When you'd glare at me across the field and act like you weren't imagining my hands on you." Kaiser bites into his sweet spot, and it forces out a moan, loud and unabashed. "But you're not pretending now, are you?"
Yoichi's response is a strangled sound-half gasp, still moaning as Kaiser's teeth graze his Adam's apple.
"That's what I thought." And then Kaiser is hooking his hands beneath his thighs and lifting him up.
His legs wrap around Kaiser's on instinct, thighs held at the waist, ankles locking behind his back. The new angle has their bulges pressing together completely - hard and aching through layers of fabric and Yoichi's head goes falling back against the door again, moans ripping out of his mouth.
Kaiser hisses in a breath. "There we go darling," he hums, yearning in his voice. Then his hips are rolling forward again, a slow grind turning into a shameless humping of their hips as they both get desperate. Yoichi's vision white out at the edges, feeling the warmth of Kaiser's cock engulfing his. This sucks. He hates this, hates how good it makes him feel and the fact it's Kaiser doing it. Their cocks rub against each other through the fabic in a rhythm that drives him insane, and if they continue Yoichi wouldn't be able to last long. Kaiser looks unfazed through the same hatred, not even breathless as he keeps rutting up. It pisses Yoichi off so much. "World Cup champion, everyone's precious hero, and you're grinding against me like a bitch in heat."
"Fuck you as if you're not doing the same," Yoichi gasps, but his hips are moving without permission, grinding down against Kaiser's in a desperate, stuttering rhythm that's more instinct than intention. His fingers tighten in Kaiser's hair, tugging sharply. "This is my victory. I get to celebrate however I want.
"However you want?" Kaiser echoes in a breath, hands shift-slipping past the loose ends of Yoichi's jersey, cold fingers splaying across his stomach. His thumb traces lazy circles, just below Yoichi's navel, close enough to make the muscles jump, not quite close enough to where he needs them and he scowls. "Is that right? You think you're in control here?"
Yoichi's stomach clenches, muscles jumping beneath Kaiser's palms and he tries to pull away. He's way too close to simply cumming in his pants like a virgin, untouched, and Yoichi is sure he won't live it down if Kaiser caught him like that.
But instead of being able to get away like he wants, Kaiser holds him down by the waist, tight grip not letting go. The jersey rides up his stomach further and the stupid cold air rushes in. Yoichi cusses out loud at the intrusion, nipples tightening and pebbling with anticipation. He prays that Kaiser doesn't notice, but he himself can feel every inch of space between his buds and the man's fingers, twinkling with desire. "Yes," he bites out, but his voice is shaking. "I won. You lost. That means I get to - "
"Get to what?" Kaiser's thumbs trace higher, just brushing the underside of Yoichi's ribs and he has to clamp his teeth down to hold down the moan threatening to be let out. "Get to beg? Get to spread your legs and take whatever I give you like how you want it?" Kaiser holds him down by the throat, lips ghosting over his mouth, deliberately not locking them together. It's clear what the german is trying to do. He wants to let Yoichi taste the power inbalance between them, have him understand who's really in control. It's not going to work, however, Yoichi's not that weak. He thinks this, but his lips part on their own anyways, slick and inviting, eyes attached to the plump red ones in front of him in longing.
"You think me low enough to beg?"
"Aren't you?" Kaiser hums, the whisper spoke directly onto Yoichi's lips. He smells faintly of roses, and it drives him insane, intoxicating in a way that makes him dizzy with want. "That's not how this works, Yoichi. You don't get to pretend you're calling the shots when we both know you would do anything I tell you to do right now."
Yoichi swallows, throat clicking. His pride is a burning ember in his chest, but it's drowning in the flood of want that's been building for months, years, every stolen glance, lingering touch, sleepless night spent imagining this exact moment. Winning the World Cup, then having Kaiser's hands on him right after. The twin victories he's been chasing since the moment they met.
"Does it kill you to shut your mouth," he snaps, arms tightening on Kaiser's shoulders. Yoichi hums in contentment when the german slides forward slightly, their lips now brushing, just a centimeter away. "If you're going to fuck me, then fuck me. Stop running your mouth and - "
Kaiser's fingers finally make contact with his chest.
The touch is rough almost careless, fingers catching on Yoichi's nipple, flicking without rhythm, a constant stimulating pressure that makes Yoichi's eyes roll back. His back arches off the door, lips pulling away from Kaiser's own as a shocked gasp spills from it. But Kaiser doesn't stop at the movement, in fact, he twists it even harder, making the pleasure behind Yoichi's eyes bloom into something sharper. He feels his brain melt.
"Like that?" Kaiser asks, barely restrained. He rolls the sensitive bud between thumb and forefinger, pressure bordering on pain, and watches Yoichi's face contort with something close to reverence. Yoichi glares up at him with tear filled eyes, the pleasure unbearable, and Kaiser returns the annoyance with a smirk of his own. "Is this what you wanted? For me to play with your pretty little nipples while you rut against me like an animal?"
Yoichi's head nods on its own, frantic, before he can stop it, but he doesn't have time to be mortified because Kaiser's mouth is on his in the next second.
And immediately, it felt like sensations were bursting throughout his entire being. Fireworks dances behind his closed eyelids, electricity races down his spine, every nerve ending lighting up at once as if someone had flipped a switch he hadn't known existed. Kissing Kaiser always elicits this reaction and sometimes Yoichi couldn't even bring himself to hate it, too caught up with the sheer overwhelming passion, it holds. His lips part on habit, a sound escaping him-something between a gasp and a groan - and Kaiser swallows it greedily. His tongue pushes inside, claiming, demanding, and Yoichi meets him with equal force, the kiss more duel than dance, more war than surrender.
Kaiser's fingers don't stop their assault on his chest, twisting, flicking, rolling the sensitive bud until Yoichi's hips are jerking helplessly against him. The dual sensations -Kaiser's mouth devouring his, Kaiser's hands tormenting his skin - are too much and not enough, a cruel paradox that leaves Yoichi trembling.
Then one of Kaiser's hands releases it's hold on his nipple somewhere in the collision and instead wraps around Yoichi's waist, long fingers splaying across the small of his back, dragging them together until there isn't an inch left between them and he cries. Chest to chest, hips to hips, every line of their bodies pressed flush and burning. It's so overwhelming. He feels so good and he just wants so much more.
He doesn't know when it happens, the exact moment his last reservation crumbles to dust, but at some point Yoichi's hand moves from Kaiser's jaw to his hair, fingers threading through blonde strands and pulling, dragging them closer, closer, closer until he couldn't feel where he began and Kaiser ended. The only thing still holding him up is Kaiser's strong hips against his and the friction behind the door. The position is dangerous but Yoichi couldn't bring himself to care anymore. The kiss deepens impossibly further, tongues meeting in a clash that's less technique and more desperation, lips moving with bruising force as if they're trying to crawl inside each other's skin.
More, more, more, more, more.
Kaiser pulls back just enough to speak, lips still brushing Yoichi's, but he still hisses at the loss contact, desperate to bring Kaiser closer again.
"Brat," Kaiser scoffs, fingers flicking Yoichi's nipples sharply, a reprimand, a punishment, a reward and he whimpers. "Arms up." Yoichi obeys.
His arms lift above his head, and Kaiser yanks his jersey off in one rough motion, discarding it somewhere on the floor. The cool air hits his overheated skin again, and Yoichi shudders, nipples tightening further under Kaiser's dark gaze.
"Good boy," Kaiser murmurs, and the praise sends a shudder through his entire body. "You can follow orders after all." This bastard -
"Don't - " Yoichi starts, but it comes out as a moan as Kaiser's mouth descends on his chest, tongue laving over one nipple while his fingers continue their torture on the other.
"Don't what?" Kaiser asks, lifting his head just enough to speak, his breath ghosting across spit-slicked skin. "Don't call you a good boy? But you are, aren't you?" His teeth graze the sensitive bud, and Yoichi's hips buck forward involuntarily meeting Kaiser's crotch. "You're so good for me. So desperate. So needy." Kaiser groans at his work. "You spent ninety minutes proving yourself to the whole world, and now you're going to spend the rest of the night proving yourself to me."
Yoichi's head falls back against the door, a strangled sound escaping him but makes no effort in stopping Kaiser. "I don't have to prove anything to you.
"Right." Yoichi barely notices Kaiser's retreating hand, too focus on it's slide downward, palm dragging down his stomach, fingers dipping beneath the waistband of his sweats. Yoichi hitches a breath, expectant. "Why prove anything, when the evidence stands in front of me?" Kaiser questions, fingers brushing the tip of Yoichi's cock, feather-light, collecting the pre-cum gathered pooling there and his underwear and Yoichi's vision whites out for a moment. "I think this is prove enough"
"Haah," Yoichi moans out as Kaiser circles his thumb around the head, wet and slick with arousal.
"Tell me, Yoichi. Tell me who you belong to."
"You - " The word catches in his throat, pride and desire warring for dominance. "You don't own me."
"Don't I?" Kaiser's fingers wrap around his cock, loose and teasing, and Yoichi's hips buck forward into the grip. "Why come straight here instead of celebrating with your team then? Hmm?"
Yoichi's teeth sink into his bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood. The sharp sting grounds him, long enough to gather the last shreds of his dignity, because he also refuses to lose to the german here! But then Kaiser's hand tightens, using the pre-cum beading as lube and begins jerking him off, and every thought evaporates.
"Say it," Kaiser demands, his voice shaking with the same barely leashed desperation that's burning through Yoichi's veins. "Say you're mine. Say this - " he strokes harder once, twice, "belongs to me.
Yoichi hates him.
"Yours," he whispers, and he closes his eyes, afraid of what Kaiser's next expression would do to him mentally. "I'm yours. I've always been yours." Yoichi finishes off, breath labored and ragged.
He peels his gaze open just in time to see Kaiser's eyes go dark.
"Since you said it so nicely."
The next thing Yoichi knows, he's getting moved. He clings tightly on Kaiser's neck as the man pulls them across the room, stumbling toward the bed, mouths reconnecting in a clumsy tangle. The backs of his knees hit the bed when he's put down and Kaiser takes advantage of this, shoving him down. The mattress bounces under his weight, and Yoichi tries to get up but Kaiser's gaze is heavy where he looms over him.
Then the german hums, chest heaving, eyes wild, hands shaking as he works at his belt, and Yoichi pauses at his spot, watching. He moves until he's propped up on his elbows, a grin spreading across his face, eyes glittering. "Having trouble there?" he calls out, voice low and teasing. "All that talk, and you can't even get your pants off?"
Kaiser's glare is just what Yoichi wants.
"Guess you don't have to be fucked after all." Nevermind. Not, what Yoichi wants.
"You wouldn't dare."
Yoichi holds Kaiser's gaze, irritated and thinks about other ways to kill the german than choking him in his sleep. His grin makes another appearance when he settles on the perfect option and with a huff, he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his own sweats. Then he's dragging them down, letting the fabric catch on his thighs before pulling free. His underwear follows, discarded in a puddle on the floor.
He closes his eyes, "Like what you see?" Yoichi asks, but doesn't wait for an answer. He turns, rolling onto his stomach, and pushes himself up on his knees. Yoichi doesn't fumble when his hands find his own ass, fingers spreading his cheeks apart, presenting himself like an offering he knows would drive Kaiser crazy. His face then presses into the mattress hips arched, hole exposed and clenching around nothing. "Still waiting,' Yoichi drawls, and he looks back over his shoulder, meeting Kaiser's stunned gaze. That's hot. "I thought you were going to fuck me until I couldn't walk. I guess that's just a pathetic threat after all - "
He's cut off by the sound of Kaiser's belt hitting the floor with a loud clank.
"Michael." The name leaves him in a drunken slur, his chest sinking deeper into the mattress, hips lifting, spreading his hole further apart. Kaiser's stare presses down on him like a touch, heavy and searing, and Yoichi watches another bead of pre-cum leak from his cock, his arousal spiking at the compromising position. "Come here. I want to feel you."
Kaiser is on him in seconds.
His hands find Yoichi's hips and grips it like he means to leave marks, fingers pressing into bone. "Fuck." Kaiser gasp, voice completely strained and the sound of it makes Yoichi preen in satisfaction. "Presenting yourself like a whore." The thumb traces his rim. Yoichi's hole clenches around nothing, a helpless little flutter that makes his face burn. "Filthy little thing." Kaiser's thumb presses, not pushing in, just resting there. "You've been waiting for this all day,haven't you? All week? Thought about my cock while you fucked yourself open on your bed, didn't you?"
"You got a problem with that" Yoichi gasps, still defiant despite the upcoming reality of getting fucked. He's kinda over the moon right now and drunk on pleasure, so Yoichi doesn’t really care any more how it happens but he just wants to feel something that isn’t that constant rage simmering under his skin when it comes to Kaiser and for that to happen -
Kaiser's fingers slides in.
That! That has to happen.
Yoichi hadn't register Kaiser opening the lube bottle, but his fingers are coated in cold, wet slick, sliding in fast and unforgiving, spreading and coating his insides. Heat pours over his body, warming his skin and flushing his face as a wave of greedy desire hits him. Yoichi falls head face into the mattress, fingers gripping the sheets as Kaiser works him open. He slides his fingers out only to push them in even deeper, swiftly and steadily loosening the threads holding him together.
And Yoichi's back arches sharply, a broken cry tearing from his throat. Kaiser's finger thrusts into him mercilessly, slamming into his prostate everytime and his hole clenches greedily around the intrusion, overwhelmed.
"Sl - Slow down," he demands, voice muffled by the bedding.
Kaiser laughs, scissoring him from the insides, crooked and searching, and Yoichi sees stars. "Still running your mouth? First is hurry up, now it's slow down." Kaiser taunts, but his voice is strained, barely holding together. "Even with my fingers inside you, you're still making demands."
"Especially then. Someone has to - " Then Kaiser is pressing into his prostate over and over again and Yoichi chokes on his breath at the ripple of white-hot pleasure sparkling up his spine. His moans strains together on the sheets, and he almost forgets to finish his sentence: "Someone has to keep you humble," he finishes, eyes rolling back.
"Humble?" Kaiser's fingers twist, hitting that spot again with more strength. Yoichi couldn't do anything but moan, tears clinging to the corners of his eyes. "You're the one on your knees," thrust, "You're the one spreading yourself open for me," thrust, "You're the one who begged me to fuck you." A third finger slides in alongside the others, and Yoichi cries out. "Tell me again who needs humbling."
Yoichi's arms give out beneath him. His face presses into the mattress, breath coming in ragged gasps, and he can feel himself dripping -lube and pre-cum sliding down his thighs in sticky trails. A puddle of saliva gathers at the corner of his lips, soaking into the sheets. "So greedy," Kaiser murmurs around the fingers fucking him open. "Wanna be split open that bad, don't you?" He purrs, "Sucking my fingers like you can't get enough. You were made for this, Yoichi.” His free hand strokes down Yoichi's arched spine, slow and indulgent, trailing over each vertebra and he whines. It feels too good, too much, too deep and he is just so dizzy. "You're drooling on the sheets, Yoichi. Our World Cup champion reduced to a mindless little thing just from my fingers."
Yoichi barely notices when Kaiser leans forward, lifting them both in the process, but he does notice when he pulls his fingers all the way out. He makes an aggravated noise, but doesn’t have time to do anything else before he’s flat on his back again and Kaiser is spreading his thighs apart.
Kaiser settles between his legs, the head of his cock pressing against Yoichi's rim, and Yoichi's breath catches in his throat.
"If only everyone knew," Kaiser hums, contemplative, as he drags the head of his cock through the mess between Yoichi's thighs, all pre-cum and lube. "That their precious Isagi Yoichi spreads his legs for me." Yoichi's hips buck forward, chasing the pressure, but Kaiser pulls back just enough to deny him. He whines. He wants to come. He needs Kaiser's cock right in his belly until he's pumped full with his semen deep inside. He needs to be one with Kaiser.
"Pretending you're all innocent," Kaiser continues, german accent rolling off of his tongue. It usually drives Yoichi horny in a way he always denies, but right now, he just wants him to shut up and fuck him. "High and mighty as you scored that goal. The whole world watching." The head of his cock presses against Yoichi's rim, just the tip and he swears, he'll choke him - he'll make him pay - he'll - "And now you're underneath me, about to take every inch.
"Michael, please, please, please." Yoichi finally lets out, unable to hold in his desire as his hands fist in the sheets, tears streaming down his face. "Make me yours."
Kaiser bucks his hips and sheathes himself into Yoichi in one quick, hot motion.
The breath leaves Yoichi's mouth in an instant.
"Fuck."
Yoichi's so full of Kaiser's cock he can’t even breathe properly. He’s gasping in quick little breaths but it feels like all the air has been punched out of him. His insides feel like they’re burning, stretched to their limit - that borders on too much, walls fluttering helplessly around the intrusion, trying to adjust to something his body insists shouldn't fit. But it feels so good. God, it feels so good. So good, so full, so deep, so completely Kaiser that he feels like he could just die there and be happy with his life.
Yoichi's eyes flutter open just as Kaiser pulls back, and the sight nearly undoes him - that thick, flushed cock glistening wet, poised right at his stretched, aching entrance. He couldn't look away too transfixed by it. Kaiser drives back in, one relentless, claiming thrust, and Yoichi watches, mesmerized, as his own body takes him to the hilt, swallowing him whole without resistance. He feels himself open up around him, his walls yielding and clenching, making room for Kaiser like he was carved out for this exact purpose. For a dizzying moment, there's no boundary left between them - just the heat of Kaiser buried deep, disappearing inside him, two bodies merged into one.
Kaiser starts fucking him like that, hard and fast, the wet slap of skin echoing through the room. Yoichi watches - watches that thick cock disappear into him over and over - until his vision blurs at the edges and his eyes lose focus entirely. Every snap of Kaiser's hips punches a sound out of him, broken little whines and keening whimpers he didn't know he was capable of making, each one dragged from somewhere deep and helpless inside his chest
"Fuck - " Kaiser's voice is wrecked, barely human, his forehead dropping to Yoichi's shoulder as he drives deeper. "You're so tight around me - " He breaks off, swallowing hard.
"Michael," he moans around the name. He's hot all over, his skin thrumming with unbearable pleasure and he still can’t get a proper breath in and Kaiser is making him feel so fucking good, it’s insane. He’s going insane. "Michael, Michael. So good, feels so good. You're so deep in me." He feels himself drooling again, and closes his eyes, embarrassed. He's Isagi Yoichi. He couldn't break in front of Michael Kaiser, he can't! He just -
"No." Fingers grasp his face, nails stinging his cheeks. Yoichi cracks open his eyes and forces his vision to find Kaiser, who's hovering above him, closer than Yoichi remembers, those piercing blue eyes staring down into his own. The intensity of that gaze pins him in place as surely as the cock buried inside him, and Yoichi feels stripped barer by that look than by anything else - laid open, seen through, utterly possessed. "You asked to be claimed, to be made mine. So keep looking," Kaiser drags his gaze down until its realigned with the sight of them becoming one again and Yoichi cries. "Look at me making you mine."
His hands find Kaiser's back, nails digging in hard enough to leave marks, and he pulls him closer, deeper, needing more but also none at the same time. "Too much," Yoichi gasps, voice barely recognizable, more sob than speech. "Too - too much, I feel everything. You're too deep."
Kaiser's hips snap forward, harder, deeper, right there on his prostate and Yoichi's head falls back against the mattress, a broken moan ripping from his throat.
"Yoichi," Kaiser growls, low and dark and shoves his fingers into his mouth. Yoichi nearly gags, but recovers just in time to take the digits in. Kaiser's fingers slide over his tongue, crooking inwards and then out again like he’s trying to fuck his mouth in tandem with the cock thrusting inside him. "I told you to look."
"Noh," Yoichi gasps, and his hands move to Kaiser's face, cupping his jaw, forcing him to meet his eyes. His vision is blurry with tears, his cheeks flushed, moaning around the fingers deep in his throat. Kaiser finger fucks his mouth and Yoichi lets him, too overwhelmed.
"You can do it, Yoichi. My good boy, come on." Kaiser pulls the fingers out and kisses him, swallowing the rest of the words, and fucks him through it as he lifts his thighs up. The rhythm becomes something primal, hips pistoning into him, relentless, and Yoichi can feel himself losing grip on reality, his prostate stimulated to beyond anything he could imagine. The only thing that exists is the feeling of being filled, claimed, possessed. Yoichi could feel his orgasm building, Kaiser's cock fucking him so well.
Then: "See?" Kaiser's hips stutters, ramming in, "You take me so well, you've been so good Yoichi. Is the King satisfied with his clown?"
Yoichi wants to nod, but his body moves on its own, giving a shake of his head instead, too familiar with defying Kaiser. And he regrets it immediately when Kaiser stops for a moment, lodged deep inside of him, unmoving.
"Michael," he sobs against Kaiser's lips, his climax slipping away, "I'm - I'm close, I'm so close - " Move. Yoichi just needs him to move. His insides are going crazy on Kaiser's cock, clenching down on the thick length, hips gyrating in an effort to find more friction. His legs, locked at the ankles, push into Kaiser's back, trying to get him to get back to it with little success. Fuck.
"I know." Kaiser nods, fast. "Why would you shake your head then? Hmm? Do I not satisfy you?"
And he moves, a violent, meaningful thrust that sets every one of Yoichi's nerves on fire. He blanks out for a second, distracted by the way his body relishes the sensation. His spine archs, toes curling, a pitiful moan ripped from his throat. His walls flutter around Kaiser, silently demanding more, but Kaiser is still as a statue. Yoichi whines.
"Answer the question." Kaiser demands, sly as he narrows his eyes. "Will you be my good little slut then? Yoichi?"
For one short, livid moment, the urge to defy Kaiser flickers through him. But his body is screaming louder - begging, needing him to surrender. To sink into the sheets and let Kaiser do whatever he pleases with him. He wants to feel Kaiser's cock moving inside him, filling him up, dragging over that sweet spot, driving him to delirium. He wants Kaiser to pound him into the mattress until he's drooling from it again, again and again.
“Yes,” Yoichi whispers against Kaiser's lips, letting that needy desperation seep into his voice. “I’ll be good. I’m a good slut. I'll be your slut."
Kaiser practically growls, a low, satisfied sound that vibrates through Yoichi's chest as he pulls out-and then rams back in with punishing force.
It's teeth and claws and desperation all over again. Kaiser fucks him like a man possessed, and Yoichi throws his head back and takes every ruthless inch. His body sings with it, electric and alive under Kaiser's rough handling. Yoichi welcomes every savage drive of Kaiser's cock into his guts, cries out every time that thick head pounds against his prostate and steals the air from his lungs. His nails rake down Kaiser's back, leaving angry red furrows in their wake. He pulls at sweat-damp hair,scratches at broad shoulders, anchors himself however he can. It's madness-an insatiable, consuming hunger sparking between them, hurtling them both toward the edge.
Everything blurs. Yoichi's vision swims, hazy with the relentless barrage of pleasure that leaves him stupid and senseless. He loses time like this, on his back with Kaiser's cock drilling into him, over and over, no reprieve. At some point Kaiser pulls out and Yoichi snarls at the loss, feral and impatient, but Kaiser just flips him onto his back, yanks his hips up, and plunges back inside in one slick motion again. Then they're writhing beasts again, the both of them, rutting against each other like animals.
When the heat coils tight at his core, Yoichi knows he's close once more. In that suspended moment - Kaiser flush against his back, Kaiser's fingers digging bruises into his hip while the other hand wraps around his neglected cock, skin sticky with sweat, heartbeat thundering in his ears - Yoichi thinks about how they got here How Kaiser, the man who swore to crush him, is now the one driving him toward the most devastating pleasure of his life. How this doesn't change anything between them. How even with the World Cup in his bag, Kaiser will still be the king and Yoichi the clown, the jester who exists only to serve his amusement.
He lets out a cry-broken, desperate, maybe a little triumphant - and he can't tell anymore where hatred ends and this ravenous, all consuming need begins.
Then he cums, body clenching around Kaiser, milking him, pulling him deeper, and he sobs through it. Tears stream down his temples, broken sounds spilling from his lips, and through it all Kaiser keeps moving, keeps fucking him, keeps whispering praise against his skin. "So good. So perfect. My good boy. Mine."
Kaiser follows moments later-a low groan ripped from his throat as he buries himself to the hilt, spilling inside Yoichi in hot, pulsing waves. His forehead presses to his, and they breathe together - ragged, desperate, alive.
"Don't pull out," Yoichi whispers, and his voice is barely audible, more breath than words.
Kaiser's arms tighten around him, and he presses a kiss to Yoichi's forehead-soft, gentle completely at odds with everything they've just done. "I'm not going anywhere," he murmurs. "I'm right here, Clown."
Yoichi's eyes flutter close, and he feels a smile tug at his lips. His body aches, his mind is floating somewhere far away, and he's never felt more complete.
"Good," he whispers. "Because I won the World Cup. And you're my prize." It doesn't matter if Yoichi's still the clown, as long he gets to have this; he doesn't quite mind it.
Kaiser's laugh is soft, breathless, tangled with something that might be affection.
'Brat," he says.
He doesn't pull out.
---
It's a common misconception that Isagi Yoichi is some innocent angel who wouldn't cuss even on a bad day.
But that same person is sprawled out beneath him right now, utterly fucked-out and so fucking cute, drooling on a mixture of their shared cum and saliva, eyes rolling back as Kaiser slams his cock deeper into that pliant, willing heat.
Kaiser hums, satisfied, watching Yoichi's spent cock twitch and dribble another pathetic streak of semen onto his own stomach, mindlessly broken
"More." Yoichi whines it like a plea, making grabby hands until Kaiser's fingers lace with his own - warmth swallowing warmth. "Wanna be your cum dump."
Yeah, no. Never believe the internet, Kaiser thinks, thrusting his hips up, already hard again.