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Michael Kaiser wakes up with an itch.
It’s not the sort of itch you just scratch and then forget about - it itches deep, way past the skin of his torso or the screeching pink of his insides, but rather a place of filth that has nothing to do with temples and holy grounds.
Michael’s got an itch in the groin.
He can feel his dick brushing up against the sheets, erect, the tip sensitive enough to send small electric currents running wild over his defined thighs ; it annoys him to great extents, as it always does.
It keeps annoying him when the air hits the sensitive skin of his hard-on as he gets out of bed unceremoniously, hair sprouting in all directions like he’s got a damn muppet sewed tightly to his scalp.
(Throw the frizzy blue rat tail on top of that, and he’s probably most hairdresser’s sleep paralysis demon waiting to terrorize them from the end of their bed.)
He glares at his boner in some vain attempt to make it go down, and even goes as far as to tentatively rub one out, but the feeling of his own hand on his shaft makes him queasy real fast.
Michael Kaiser hates jerking off. He hates having erections too, but he’d rather keep one for a thousand years than forcing himself to finish on his palm in a pathetic little splash of white. His hands have better things to do - choking himself, for one. Or holding annoying little pests by the soft mat of their hair.
He considers getting Ness to jerk him off instead, but Ness always asks for a kiss afterwards, and Michael is out of mouthwash - he doesn't want to taste his own semen on Ness’s lips.
Speaking of Ness - he’s bound to burst open the door any minute now, breakfast in hands, the devotion pouring out of his vacant eyes making a spill everywhere on the floor, and Kaiser would rather avoid being caught staring at his own penis in bed. Not that he’d owe Ness any explanation, or that Ness would ask for one in the first place.
So Michael gets up, grabs a fresh towel, and takes a really cold shower.
__
Michael is showered, fed, and is almost finished dressing up for practice - he sent Ness away to get rid of the breakfast plates, as well as last night’s dinner, and to grab some hygiene products from the furthest closet in the Blue Lock facility.
Michael needs some alone time, because his boner might have finally gone to sleep in the shower, but the itch is still there.
It’s everywhere on his skin now - even in the touch of his socks when he unwraps them over his powerful legs, or the flush of his nape as he brushes his damp hair into submission. His loins are still ablaze with the seed of arousal and he figures it’s gonna drive him insane if he doesn’t do something about it.
He looks at the clock on his desk - forty minutes before the actual practice starts (Kaiser liked to train half an hour earlier than everyone else). Probably enough to find a certain someone and persuade him to have a little practice session of their own.
He doesn’t even grab his gear - Ness will make sure it finds its way to the field in due time. He’s out of his room and turning around the corner even before the shiny metal door has time to quietly close on its hinges.
__
As per tradition, he ignores each and everyone of his teammates he crosses paths with - well, rather, he grants his actual Bastard München helpers a swift nod of the head, courtesy of being their Emperor and all.
The Blue Lock runts can all go fuck themselves, for all he cares about (which isn’t a lot).
Michael’s got his eyes on one prize only - a small, insignificant parasite he’s currently in the process of shaping into the sharpest knife, just so he can slit his own wrists over the blade and bleed all over the football field for magnificent roses to bloom.
He sees a flash of dark hair with two annoying little sprouts on top of it taunt him from afar, and he can already picture mocking blue eyes gazing at him with the same self-reflecting obsession as they do on the football field when Kaiser’s chasing after their ugly red and black team jersey.
Michael Kaiser hated erections and he hated sex ; yet nothing made him feel quite alive, ready to hate the whole world back than to have Isagi Yoichi blow a load directly inside of him.
“ Yoichi, just the little guy I was dying to see. “ Michael likes to put the emphasis on his height, because it makes Yoichi feel insecure - another itch in Michael Kaiser’s life.
“ Good fucking morning to you too, “ Isagi grumbles, visibly annoyed by his presence. He starts walking faster.
Michael licks his lips as he chases after the brunette and slides his arm over his small stature in an iron-clad embrace ; the predatory glimmer is there, shining in the depths of his pupils.
“ Now, now, this isn’t a very proper way to greet your comrades, is it, Yoichi ? “ Michael’s breath fawns over Isagi’s cheek and he feels the smaller man shiver under the touch.
“ What’s your fucking problem, Kaiser ? “ Isagi is quick to shove him away, and he even swats the hand that lingers on his waist when Michael’s arm falls from his shoulder.
He then grabs Isagi by the shirt to drag him further into a deserted corridor ; Isagi’s nails are clawing against his wrist and he thinks he might have scratched him for real trying to get away from Kaiser’s grip, but it doesn’t matter when Kaiser shoves him into a wall and placates two hands firmly on each sides of his tiny stupid head.
“ My problem is, “ Michael looks down on Isagi and gets lost for a second in the sheer hatred bathing in his eyes, as well as the disapproving corners of his tightly shut lips.
(Michael sometimes wished he could wear Isagi’s skin, so he could feel the same hate as one wears a blanket in the middle of a cold, lonely night.)
“ My problem is that I need you to scrape my insides with that useless little dick of yours. How about that ? “ He smiles when he sees a little bit of arousal poorly disguised as disgust written all over Isagi’s face.
The guy is clearly conflicted - after all, it’s ass o’clock in the morning, and they have practice in half an hour, and there’s something demented about the guy you hate asking you to bone real quick in a dirty closet. The thing is - it’s not the first time Michael propositions him in such a way, and so far Isagi has never said no.
“ I don’t have a rubber on me, “ he finally mumbles, avoiding Kaiser’s piercing gaze in a curious fit of shame.
His little Yoichi was still new to the world of filthy debauchery, after all - there was something special to ruining the innocence of naive foreigner boys. How Isagi still blushed like a maiden at the mention of sex was but the cherry on top.
“ Why would you keep a condom in the pockets of your practice shorts, “ Michael slurs and his lips are almost over Isagi’s, ever so tempting. “ Are you becoming a sex addict, Yoichi ? “
Michael’s pushing it, especially since he’s the one with a problem, but good luck making him ‘fess up. Torment is what keeps him alive and well fed.
“ You’re the nympho, “ Isagi argues as he plasters his soft hand over Michael’s mouth, to prevent an inevitable kiss. “ Who wants to do it at the crack of dawn ? “
Michael bites Isagi’s pinky really hard, and the brunette yelps so loudly it echoes around them in the vast empty corridor. Kaiser puts his hand on his mouth this time, so they don’t attract unwanted attention.
“ You’re getting lost in the technicalities, “ Michael ushers, and he lets his fingers slowly slip from Isagi’s lips, right down to his chin he then cups to hold him in place. “ So are we fucking or not ? Clock’s ticking. “
If looks could kill Michael wouldn’t be dead, but he’d probably end up in the ER ; Isagi’s eyes are filled with nothing but anger and annoyance. But Michael is sure he’s gonna say yes anyway, because he’s a teenage boy and those are full of hormones.
“ Fine, “ Isagi finally lets out, and he grabs Michael by the fabric of his shirt to force his mouth open with his tongue, before he bites his lip so hard it draws blood, a prickle of tiny red dots on raw flesh.
Michael feels the rush take possession of his body when he wipes the blood and licks it from his thumb, dragging Isagi by the wrist into the nearest closet available.
He locks the door behind them and in an instant, his hands are inside of Isagi’s pants, long fingers wrapped around his cock and tugging hard at the skin.
“ Careful, you fuck, “ Isagi hisses, tries to stop Michael from literally ripping his dick off of him, but Kaiser’s hold on his member strenghtens.
Michael is well aware now that introducing his worst enemy to sex was bound to wire some weird shit into his brain ; proof is in the pudding, as Kaiser’s rough manhandling gets the boy up and running pretty quickly.
“ Who said anything about being careful, “ and he turns around, drops his shorts and boxer to the ground, hands on the wall and ready to take Isagi’s cock raw. “ Now hurry up unless you want to be late at practice with your stupid cock leaking. “
It annoys him when he hears Isagi fumble with something behind him. He’s about to turn around and push Isagi to the floor to ride him instead when two fingers penetrate him quite roughly ; for one, they feel wet and he spots a newly opened bottle of body lotion on the shelf, and the loud squelch of Isagi’s digits entering and exiting him makes his insides twist in a detestable way. Kaiser hates the feeling of lube.
And for two, he specifically asked Yoichi to put his dick inside of him, so they can be done with this whole ordeal quickly. It scorches his ego that Yoichi out of all people thinks he can’t take it like a man when he’s been doing that for most of his life.
“ I did some reading, and I need to do this finger stuff, “ Isagi’s voice cracks lightly, and it tickles Michael as he methodically stretches him open. There’s not much love behind the gesture, but neither of them want that. “ I won’t have you whine all day that you suck at practice because I ripped your asshole. “
There’s something aggravating about Yoichi using his cellphone to research anal sex in his spare time ; like he doesn’t trust Michael to teach him the intricacies of fucking (he shouldn’t).
“ Fat chance, “ Michael exhales as he concentrates on a darker spot on the wall to distract himself from getting flushed from the intrusion. “ Your cock isn’t really all that, you know. “
Isagi’s fingers are gone, suddenly ; they leave his hole puckering against nothing, yearning for fullness instead of cold air. There is more squirting behind him, and he figures Yoichi is coating himself with lotion as well. Irritating.
“ My dick isn’t the issue, “ he hisses, annoyed, and he lines himself up with Kaiser. “ If you switched your stupid tiny asshole for that big loud mouth of yours, we wouldn’t have this problem, would we ? “
Isagi inserts himself slowly into Kaiser, and it pisses off Michael more than the fact they were gonna be late. There’s something irredeemably sweet about his Yoichi, no matter how hard Michael tries to break his neck and destroy his psyche ; something twisted definitely festers inside of Isagi Yoichi and Michael Kaiser is the perfect reflection in the mirror to match the bloodspill.
What annoys him is no matter how hard he tries, the scars will never match and there’s a sweetness to Yoichi that makes him salvageable when Kaiser has been a wreckage for the crabs to feed on for too long now. It makes him want to carve the scars on Isagi’s skin himself, so instead of picking up a knife in the kitchen he lets the boy stab him in dirty closets until they’re both covered with filth.
It doesn’t take long for Isagi to pick up a quick pace ; he’s not exactly good at sex, on the count of having been introduced to it about a month ago, and by Kaiser out of all people. But the way he erratically rams into him like a dog in heat makes the experience almost spiritual, if not physical.
Yoichi’s hold upon his torso as he ruts and ruts and ruts sends shivers down Michael’s spine, and when Isagi bites into his shoulder Michael guides his soft hand to his own cock and finds bliss for a brief instant ; it doesn’t take long for Isagi to spill his seed directly inside of Kaiser, and for him to follow through with a splash of semen on the concrete walls.
Michael smiles to himself ; the itch was finally gone. He couldn’t wait to turn Yoichi’s pathetic moans into screams of despair, ten minutes from now.
__
Isagi keeps wondering why he does it.
Why everytime Michael Kaiser corners him into a corridor and alludes to all sorts of filthy things, Isagi can’t help but follow through.
The whole process is frankly disgusting, and Isagi thinks he’s probably a little fucked in the head because it’s the disgust that arouses him. Sure, fucking into something feels miles better than just using your hand, but it has less to do with that than the rush he gets from degrading his worst enemy, turning him pliant under the touch of his hands. A part of him thinks Kaiser enjoys the degradation as well, which muddies his feelings into a big mush of nothing. He wished Kaiser wouldn’t enjoy it so much, because Yoichi cares little for his devious games ; but at the same time, he relishes in seeing a side of Kaiser no one but him is privy to.
He also doesn’t know how to feel about that.
And then the post-nut clarity hits and he’s in a creepy closet, again, his stuff leaking from Kaiser’s hole as the blonde gets dressed again, not even bothering to scoop the cum from his ass. Isagi doesn’t know a lot about sex, but he’s pretty sure this can’t be too good for Kaiser - it’s also kind of disgusting. And he’d rather not think too hard about that one because it usually leads to more fucking.
“ At least use a fucking towel, “ he mutters, and throws one Kaiser’s way.
The blonde doesn’t pay any attention to him, and the towel bounces on his lanky back and drops to the floor in a sad lump.
So long for trying to be a little bit nice.
Kaiser creaks the door open, and Isagi hisses because he’s still getting dressed up, tucking his cock back into his boxers - the taller man looks right, then left, then barely his way before he prepares to slip through the metal door.
“ Wait a couple minutes before you leave. Or better, don’t even bother coming to practice. “
He’s out before Isagi can even think of a nice comeback, and the boy scoffs, finishes putting his pants back. He dries his face and body with a towel so he looks inconspicuous when he arrives to practice, and he can’t help but think about Kaiser.
About why he hates him so much, and why Kaiser decided they were to start having sex in closets, with him out of all available people. Isagi isn’t naive ; Kaiser might be rotten to the core but he had a pretty enough face that most people would overlook that if it meant a quick fuck, and athletes were known for having a lot of energy to burn. He isn’t even sure why he said yes himself.
Perhaps he sought to understand Michael Kaiser on a level so visceral that this fucked up intimacy was but one way of piercing holes through his carefully crafted armor ; perhaps he wondered if Kaiser saw bits of himself reflected in Isagi’s gestures, if the all-consuming hunger frightened him too. Perhaps kindred spirits danced in different ways, mouth to neck and teeth sank deep into flesh.
Perhaps none of that mattered at all - the kissing, the sex, the closets. Not if the final objective was to figure out who’s gonna be the first to put his cleat on the other’s throat and press until the bones are crushed into fine dust.
Isagi leaves the closet behind, towel still laying on the ground, wall stained with cum and shadow hand traces.
“ You’re late. “
Hiori Yo looks at him with curious, probing eyes, and Isagi feigns ignorance.
Not that it matters, because Hiori sees much on field and off field, and his gaze slides right to Kaiser’s back, head illuminated by a halo of fluorescents.
“ He was late too, “ Hiori adds in a low, chirpy voice, and Isagi is forced to look back for fear of giving up too much.
“ We bumped into each other. “
He busies himself with tightening the laces of his shoes, and finishes stretching his legs.
Hiori scoffs, crossing his arms, smiling as delicate and complaisant as the Mona Lisa.
“ Call it that if it amuses you, “ and Hiori’s smile widens when Isagi turns crimson, growing a tad sadistic. “ Are you at least gonna tell him he’s leaking cum from his shorts ? “
Isagi looks at Kaiser’s powerful legs, and at the shimmering trail of liquid that slides on his pale flesh. He scoffs ; Noel Noa’s whistle blows sharply into the air, and Kaiser regroups with the rest of the team for their 7 AM meeting.
“ No, “ Isagi replies, and he jogs up to his teammates, Hiori tailing him close.
Time to play some football.