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The bowling alley is crowded and lively on a Friday night, and Kant is enjoying bowling by himself, practicing his moves and enjoying a beer. He is perfectly content to be by himself on his lane, but his eyes are drawn toward a young man a few lanes over who is also bowling by himself. Short and slight, the young man is obviously also a good bowler, but could use a few tips to make the most of his talent. Kant, with a faint smile and a predatory gleam in his eyes, approaches the young man slowly, looking him up and down with appreciation. "You've got good form, but if I may?" Kant doesn't wait for permission, stepping up behind the stranger and resting one hand on the man's hip, the other hand covering his on the ball, correcting his aim.
Bison is enjoying his evening, free from his brother Fadel and his strict gaze, and free from his mother, Lily, and her schemes. He's bowling by himself, enjoying a beer, when he feels eyes on him. He doesn't call attention to the fact that he's noticed, so he's somewhat surprised when the handsome man approaches him. He knows the man's name is Kant, and that he's a regular at this bowling alley. It's part of Bison's nature to glean information like this about his surroundings. It's also part of his nature to react badly to being touched without his consent, but somehow he finds himself leaning into Kant and accepting his advice, rather than violently protesting. "I've never gotten any complaints about my form," he informs Kant with a slight smirk as they release the ball together, sending it careening down the bowling lane.
"Oh trust me, I'm not complaining at all," Kant murmurs beside Bison's ear, his hand still on the shorter man's hip as they watch the ball connect with the pins, a perfect strike that sends all ten pins scattering. "See? It's perfect - with the addition of me, of course," he adds with a slow, teasing smile. He slides his hand away, almost reluctantly. "I'm Kant," he introduces himself, stepping away so they can face one another, and his tongue absently moistens his bottom lip as he takes in the beauty of the other man's face.
Bison pumps a fist when he scores a strike, a subtle shiver running through him when Kant's fingers brush over his skin slightly under the hem of his shirt. He turns to face Kant. "Nice to meet you," he says politely, though he doesn't offer his name in reply. He has no interest in making this easy for Kant, as making pretty boys work for his favor is something he greatly enjoys. Obviously, he finds Kant extremely pretty, especially when he smiles. "Do you usually offer such hands-on lessons to people as soon as you meet them?" he asks directly, his smile sharp and dangerous, even as his tone stays pleasantly polite.
Kant lets out a low chuckle at Bison's sharp words, clearly appreciating the slight challenge. His eyes sparkle with amusement as he gives the shorter man an obvious once-over. "Only when it's obvious someone might benefit from my... private tutoring," he murmurs meaningfully. He takes a step closer, invading Bison's personal space with a boldness that borders on reckless. Up close, his handsome features are even more striking. "But really, I just couldn't resist getting my hands on you," he admits shamelessly. "Care to let me try a more... thorough approach?"
Bison raises an eyebrow, his expression cool despite the warmth spreading through him at Kant's words and proximity. He takes a small step back, maintaining a sliver of space between them. "A thorough approach?" he echoes, a teasing lilt to his voice. His eyes briefly flick down to Kant's lips before meeting his gaze again. "You're going to have to work a little harder than that if you want a more 'thorough' anything from me," Bison says, his tone a mixture of challenge and flirtation as he turns to pick up his ball. "But I'll tell you what - if you can beat me in a game, I'll consider your offer. If you can't..." He shrugs, letting the sentence hang unfinished as he tosses the ball in a perfect arc - using Kant's technique - and scoring a second strike.
Kant's eyes blaze with competitive fire at Bison's challenge. He licks his lips unconsciously as he watches the other man's form, admiring the graceful movements even as he commits them to memory to use against him. "You're on, gorgeous," he confirms. Kant turns to pick up his own ball, his movements confident and fluid. He takes his time, aiming carefully before stepping forward and releasing the ball in a smooth, powerful arc. It rolls down the lane, spinning perfectly before crashing into the pins, scoring a strike. Kant turns back to Bison, his eyes gleaming with triumph and excitement. "Looks like you're in trouble now," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble as he steps closer to Bison once again. "I hope you're ready for that thorough approach, because I play to win." Throughout the game, Kant stays focused, his body moving with a grace and precision that is captivating to watch. He flirts shamelessly with Bison between turns, his fingers brushing against the other man's hand or arm casually, his smiles and winks promising so much more. He allows himself a small, almost imperceptible error in the final frame, just enough to give Bison a glimmer of hope before snatching victory with a spare, winning the game by a single pin. He turns to Bison, his smirk widening into a triumphant grin. "So," he begins, his voice low and husky, "About that thorough approach..."
Bison narrows his eyes as Kant secures the victory, but there's an unmistakable gleam of admiration and attraction in his gaze as he takes in the taller man's fluid movements and competitive fire. When Kant turns that smoldering look on him, Bison feels a shiver run down his spine. He sets his ball down and slowly closes the distance between them until they are nearly chest to chest. "You won, fair and square," Bison murmurs, his tone even despite the way his pulse has kicked up a notch. "But don't think that gives you the upper hand outside of the lane." He reaches up, his fingers brushing a stray lock of hair away from Kant's forehead, a surprisingly intimate gesture that contrasts with his stern expression. "Here's what's going to happen, Kant. You're going to buy me a drink, and then we're going to find somewhere more private to... discuss this thorough approach of yours. And this time," he adds, his voice dropping in warning, "You're going to ask before you touch. Understood?" Without waiting for a response, Bison turns and starts walking towards the bar, fully expecting Kant to follow.
Kant watches Bison walk away, his eyes lingering on the other man's back, a mix of confusion and desire swirling within him. He's not used to being ordered around, but there's something about Bison's dominance that sends an unexpected thrill through him. He takes a deep breath, composing himself before following Bison to the bar. He leans against the counter, his eyes never leaving Bison as he signals the bartender, a handsome young Thai man who openly rakes his eyes over Kant's form in appreciation. "Hey there, handsome," the bartender greets. "What can I get you?" Kant leans forward slightly, allowing the bartender a better view of the intricate tattoos adorning his forearms. "Two whiskey sours for me and my new friend," he orders, nodding towards Bison, "And something sweet for yourself. On my tab, of course." He winks, flashing the bartender a dazzling smile, then turns his attention back to Bison. "So, your place?" he suggests brazenly.
Bison watches the interaction between Kant and the bartender with a mixture of annoyance and amusement. He steps closer to Kant, a sweet smile on his lips that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Oh, I'm sorry, did I not make myself clear?" he asks, his voice laced with saccharine venom. "I said a drink, not a show." Though the words are for Kant, Bison maintains eye-contact with the bartender. The bartender's brows lift slightly, taken aback, and with a somewhat apologetic look toward Kant for getting him in trouble, he busies himself readying the drinks, sliding them over to Bison and Kant before making himself scarce. Bison turns back to Kant. "And as much as I'd love to invite you over, my place is... not an option. How about yours, instead?"
Kant watches Bison with a mix of amusement and desire as the smaller man asserts his dominance over the situation. A slow, appreciative smile spreads across his face, and he takes a step closer to Bison, their bodies almost touching. "Feisty," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "I like it." He reaches out, his fingers gently tucking a stray lock of hair behind Bison's ear, before trailing down to softly caress the side of his neck. "But my place isn't an option either. My little brother lives with me," he explains briefly, his darkly intense eyes never leaving Bison's. "How about we get a hotel room? There's one nearby where we can discuss that more thorough approach I promised you," he notes, voice laced with suggestive intent. He drinks from his glass, uncertain of whether the sourness or Bison's expression causes the tingling sensation at the nape of his neck.
Bison holds Kant's gaze as he slowly raises his glass and takes a deliberate sip, his eyes never leaving the other man's. He savors the drink, letting the moment draw out, clearly enjoying the sense of power he holds over Kant. As he lowers the glass, he runs his tongue along his lips, catching any lingering drops. "A hotel, hm?" he muses, his tone deceptively light and casual despite the smoldering look in his eyes. "I suppose that could work." He pauses, tilting his head slightly as he studies Kant's expression. "But I hope you understand," he continues, his smile sweet even as his words are sharp, "That this 'thorough approach' of yours... is going to be on my terms." He pushes to his feet, gesturing for Kant to lead the way, anticipation thrumming through his veins.
Kant takes a deep breath, trying to regain some semblance of control as he feels the heat rising within him at Bison's assertiveness. He signals for the bartender to close out the tab, before turning back to Bison, his eyes blazing with desire. Without a word, he turns and makes his way outside, hailing a taxi. He holds the door open for Bison with a slight smirk. "Your terms, princess," he eventually murmurs his agreement as the other man slides into the cab. He leans back against the plush leather seat as they glide down the streets toward the hotel, a kitschy themed place with red neon lights and an art deco style. He resists the urge to reach out and touch, not wanting to do anything to make this mysterious man change his mind and disappear before Kant gets so much as a name from him.
Bison feels a jolt of arousal shoot through him at being called "princess", a shiver tracing down his spine that he tries valiantly to suppress. He slips into the seat, keeping his expression carefully neutral even as heat blooms in his cheeks. "You're a fast learner, treating me like royalty is a surefire way to get on my good side," he informs Kant coolly, grateful his blushing isn't visible in the dark taxi interior. His fingers gently tracing the patterns of the tattoos visible on Kant's forearm. "We're here," he notes as the taxi pulls up in front of the kitschy hotel, his eyes lifting to meet Kant's once his expression is back under control. He doesn't make any move to open his own door, a single brow arching slightly as he regards the other man.
A surge of satisfaction courses through Kant as he registers Bison's subtle blush and the almost involuntary shiver. He's finally gotten under his skin, and the realization sends a thrill of anticipation through him. He exits the taxi first, circling around to open Bison's door for him with an exaggerated flourish, holding out his hand to help Bison from the cab. Kant leads Bison inside, and at the front desk he requests a suite as far from other guests as possible to avoid noise complaints, giving a meaningfully lewd glance from Bison back toward the receptionist, who smiles knowingly as she hands over the keycard with a reminder that checkout is at noon the next day. "Think you'll be able to walk again by noon?" Kant murmurs beside Bison's ear as they head for the elevator.
Bison takes Kant's hand as he exits the taxi, his touch lingering for a moment before he stands beside him. He maintains a cool expression as they enter the hotel, but he laughs - a sweet, pleasant sound that implies he's more amused than scandalized by Kant's suggestive exchange with the receptionist. As they head towards the elevator, Bison looks up at Kant, eyes squinted in amusement still, "You're setting the bar awfully high for yourself, we'll see if you live up to your own hype." He presses the button for their floor before he casually leans against the mirrored wall, watching Kant with open appraisal through the hazy red neon lighting.
Kant meets Bison's challenging gaze with a cocky smirk, refusing to be cowed despite the other man's obvious attempt to rattle his confidence. "I'm a man of my word, you have nothing to fear," he replies smoothly as the elevator doors slide open. His hand hovers near Bison's lower back, close enough that the shorter man can feel the heat radiating from him, but not quite touching, as he leads Bison toward the hotel room door. He opens it easily, holding the door open for Bison to enter first. When the door clicks locked behind them, Kant toes off his white Converse sneakers, taking a seat in a low-backed armchair near the bed and watching Bison with naked anticipation. "So, about those 'terms' you mentioned earlier?" he begins, slowly unfastening the watch from around his wrist.
Rather than joining Kant in the armchair, after removing his black loafers, Bison makes his way over to the large bed, sitting against the multitude of plush pillows stacked at the headboard. He regards Kant with heavy-lidded eyes, the ghost of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as he makes a show of getting comfortable amid the soft bedding. "My terms?" he echoes innocently, as if he'd somehow forgotten the statement he made so boldly earlier. He stretches out languidly, giving Kant an unobscured view as his shirt rides up to expose a tantalizing strip of toned abdomen. "The first is that you're to say 'Please' and 'Thank you' any time you want to do anything to me." The fingers of one hand trail over his taut stomach, lifting his shirt just a bit higher, exposing his small bellybutton. A smile plays over his lips, as if he fully expects he has Kant enthralled. "The second is that you must have a safe-word," Bison announces. "I won't listen to any pleas of 'No' or 'Stop'," he warns. "Only your safe-word. So, what will it be?" he asks, patting the bed beside himself in invitation to Kant.
Kant feels his breath catch in his throat as Bison stretches out so tantalizingly on the bed. He licks his lips unconsciously, eyes devouring every inch of exposed skin. When Bison outlines his terms, Kant's pulse quickens with a mixture of nervousness and anticipation. He nods slowly, removing his button-down shirt and tossing it aside, leaving him in just a striped t-shirt that clings to his toned chest and arms. When Bison mentions the need for a safe-word, Kant feels a shiver run through him. The idea of Bison not stopping, even if he begs, is thrilling and terrifying in equal measure, but Kant feels confident in his stamina, he works out. He pats the arm of the chair invitingly, but when Bison pats the bed in reply, Kant inhales slowly, giving in and crossing toward the bed, settling beside Bison and turning onto his side to face the shorter man. "What's something so cute and innocent it's not even remotely sexy?" he muses. After a moment's thought, he decides, "My safe-word will be 'Penguin'. Only a monster would be able to keep a boner after that," he teases.
Bison chuckles lowly at Kant's reasoning for choosing the safe word 'Penguin'. "Fair enough," he agrees, though a flicker of something dark and unreadable crosses his expression for a fleeting moment. Only a monster... the words echo in his mind, and he thinks, Well, then. He pushes the thought away, refusing to let it spoil the mood. He sits up, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it carelessly onto the floor, but not before a Heartburger pin falls off of it, landing on the bed beside him. His toned upper body now exposed, Bison shifts closer to Kant, close enough that their knees brush together. Up close, his handsome features are even more striking - from the sharp line of his jaw, to the aristocratic slope of his nose and the thick fan of lashes framing his expressive eyes. "Since we've established the ground rules..." Bison murmurs, gaze flicking briefly down to Kant's lips before returning boldly to meet his eyes. He leans in a fraction closer, his breath warm against Kant's skin as he finishes, "How about showing me that thorough approach?"
Kant's eyes are immediately drawn to the fallen pin, his curiosity piqued. He picks it up, examining the logo closely. "Heartburger?" he reads aloud, raising an inquisitive eyebrow at Bison. Before the other man can respond, Kant sets the pin aside and pulls his t-shirt off in one smooth motion, revealing his toned abdomen and the intricate tattoos covering his arms and chest. "You'll have to tell me about that later," he murmurs, his voice low and husky as he shifts even closer to Bison, their bare chests nearly touching. He reaches out, fingertips ghosting along Bison's sharp jawline. "But first..." Kant leans in achingly slowly until his lips are a hair's breadth from Bison's. "May I kiss you, please?" he asks, his words a heated whisper against Bison's parted lips.
Bison's eyes flick from the pin to Kant's toned abdomen as he removes his shirt, his gaze appreciative. When Kant asks to kiss him, Bison's response is immediate and aggressive. He surges forward, capturing Kant's lips in a fierce, dominating kiss. His hands grip Kant's shoulders, using the leverage to roll them over so that Kant is on his back, pinned beneath him. Bison straddles Kant's hips, his hands moving to either side of Kant's head, caging him in. He breaks the kiss just long enough to murmur, "You can kiss me all you want," before diving back in, his teeth gently nipping at Kant's lower lip, his tongue teasing and exploring. His hips rock forward, grinding down against Kant's in a slow, deliberate motion that leaves no doubt as to his intentions. His fingers reach down, deftly undoing the fly of Kant's black cargo shorts, exposing the dark red boxer-briefs underneath.
Kant lets out a surprised gasp as Bison suddenly takes control, the kiss fierce and demanding. He finds himself pinned beneath Bison, the smaller man's strength catching him off guard. He melts into the kiss, his lips parting to allow Bison's tongue to explore, a soft moan escaping him as Bison's teeth gently nip at his lower lip. He can feel the heat of Bison's body pressed against him, the slow grind of his hips sending a wave of desire coursing through him. Breathless and excited, Kant reaches down, his hands eagerly tugging at Bison's black trousers and matching black boxers, yanking them down to expose his firm, round ass. Kant's hands greedily grasp the firm flesh, squeezing and pulling Bison closer, his hips bucking up to meet Bison's grinding motions. "Fuck, thank you," he pants between kisses, his voice husky with desire as he remembers to mind his manners as Bison demanded.
Bison's teeth sink deeper into Kant's lower lip, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes at the slight taste of copper. He pulls back, a slow, dangerous smile spreading across his face as he takes in Kant's flushed cheeks and dilated pupils. He rises up onto his knees, swiftly removing his trousers and boxers, revealing his smooth, toned legs and firm ass. He retrieves a small tube of lube from his discarded trousers, tossing it down onto Kant's chest. "Get me ready," he demands, his voice pitchy and excited, but no less a command. He watches Kant expectantly, his hands idly stroking Kant's abs and chest, fingers exploring the well-toned muscles of the man pinned beneath him. Despite his dominant behavior, there's a hint of a flush to his cheeks, a subtle vulnerability to his expression that he tries to suppress.
Kant's breath hitches at the taste of copper, his eyes widening slightly before his expression turns into one of excitement. He eagerly grabs the lube, squirting a generous amount onto his fingers, his eyes locked onto Bison's. He reaches down, gently caressing Bison's firm ass, his fingers teasingly tracing the sensitive skin around his hole. "May I finger you, please?" Kant asks, his voice a husky whisper, his eyelids heavy with desire. He presses the tip of one finger gently against Bison's entrance, not pushing in yet, but applying just enough pressure to make his intentions clear. His other hand reaches up to grasp Bison's hip, his thumb gently caressing the smooth skin. "I want to feel you from the inside, get you nice and ready for me," he murmurs, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he continues to tease Bison's hole with slow, gentle circles.
Bison watches Kant intently, his eyes darkening with desire as Kant handles the lube and then begins to caress his ass. When Kant asks permission to finger him, Bison responds not with words, but with action. He surges forward, kissing Kant aggressively, his teeth dragging painfully over Kant's lower lip once more. At the same time, Bison pushes his hips back, pressing himself firmly onto Kant's lubed finger, giving him permission to enter. He grinds down against Kant's still-clothed erection, feeling the hardness beneath the fabric and relishing the friction it provides. His hands grip Kant's shoulders tightly, using them for leverage as he begins to rock his hips in a steady rhythm, taking control of the pace. "More!" Bison demands breathlessly.
A pained groan escapes Kant's lips as Bison bites down, the sharp sting of teeth against flesh a stark contrast to the slick heat of Bison’s entrance. In retaliation, Kant roughly thrusts two lubed fingers into Bison without warning. Kant's fingers crook upward, seeking out the sensitive spot inside Bison as his thumb presses firmly against Bison's perineum. He shudders, a wave of desire washing over him. "Fuck, you're so tight," he murmurs against Bison's lips, his voice thick with lust. He continues to thrust, increasing the pace and the roughness of his movements, his fingers scissoring Bison open, his hips bucking up to meet Bison’s, an obvious wet-spot growing on the front of Kant's boxer briefs.
A surprised gasp escapes Bison's lips as Kant's fingers thrust into him, followed by a low moan of pleasure as he finds the angle that hits him just right. "You've got a lot of nerve," he breathes against Kant's lips, a mixture of surprise and petulance in his tone. His body shudders as Kant's fingers scissor him open, the mix of pain and pleasure sending jolts of electricity through him. He rocks his hips faster, greedily demanding more. "Give me another," he commands, his hands gripping Kant's shoulders tighter, his eyes burning into Kant's with a feverish intensity. He leans down to capture Kant's lips in a fierce kiss, his tongue aggressively exploring Kant's mouth, his teeth grazing Kant's lower lip in a teasing, threatening way. His body is tense, coiled like a spring ready to release, as he rides Kant's fingers with wild abandon.
A wicked grin spreads across Kant's face at Bison's words. With a low growl, he adds a third finger, burying them deep inside Bison. He angles his fingers, relentlessly battering against Bison's prostate with a rhythmic precision. Kant's gaze is locked onto Bison's face, his eyes dark with lust and satisfaction as he watches the other man ride his fingers, before Kant abruptly pulls his fingers out, leaving Bison open, wet, and empty. "Can I please fuck you now?" he pants, voice gravelly with want. Deft fingers tug his boxer briefs down, freeing his impressive length, already flushed and leaking from their frenzied foreplay. His hands grip Bison's hips almost brutally, as if he can barely restrain himself.
A sharp sob escapes Bison's lips as Kant's fingers leave him, the sudden emptiness almost unbearable. His eyes blaze with desire and frustration as he demands, "Yes! Fuck, fuck me!" Without waiting for Kant's response, he reaches back, gripping Kant's length firmly, lining himself up, and then impatiently impales himself on it. A low groan of pleasure escapes him as he sinks down, taking Kant in fully. "Oh my god, you feel so big inside me," he mewls, his hips already moving, riding Kant with swift, eager motions. His hands grip Kant's shoulders for leverage, his fingers digging in painfully. "Your cock is filling me up just right, feels so good," he pants, his voice laced with filthy praise.
Kant's head falls back as Bison impales himself, a wave of intense pleasure crashing over him, leaving him lightheaded. His hands grasp Bison's hips tightly, fingers digging into the smooth skin as he lets out a low, guttural groan. "Fuck, you're so tight," he marvels, his voice thick with desire. A soft moan escapes his lips, his body tensing with pleasure. Bison's praise sends a wave of warmth through him, a mixture of shy pride and primal possessiveness. He groans, his hands tightening on Bison's hips, pulling him down harder. "You feel amazing, princess. So fucking hot and wet, taking me all in." He starts thrusting upwards, burying himself deep inside Bison with each thrust meeting Bison's eager descent.
Bison's eyes roll back as Kant begins to thrust upwards, meeting his eager descent with forceful, powerful movements. He braces his hands on Kant's chest, his fingers curling into the hard muscles as he rides Kant relentlessly. His hips move in a fluid, unyielding rhythm, taking Kant deep inside him over and over again. He leans down, his breath hot against Kant's ear as he lavishes him with filthy praise. "You're so fucking big, stretching me open like this," he pants, his voice laced with desire. "Your cock feels so good inside me, fucking me so deep." He moans, his own erection leaking precum onto Kant's toned abs, leaving a slick trail of his arousal. His body is glistening with sweat, his muscles taut as he continues to ride Kant with wild abandon. "You're hitting all the right spots, please don't stop, never stop," he groans, his voice thick with pleasure. His eyes meet Kant's, the intensity of his gaze otherworldly. "You're making me feel so fucking good, Kant. So fucking close..."
Kant is overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment, Bison's sultry words and frenzied motions driving him quickly toward the edge. He tries to hold back, to make this last, but Bison's tight heat surrounding him and the filthy praise spilling from those beautiful lips proves too much. "Fuck, Bison...I'm gonna..." he gasps out breathlessly. He bucks his hips up erratically, burying himself as deep as he can go as his orgasm slams into him with staggering force. A guttural moan escapes his lips as he spills himself deep inside Bison, fingers digging bruises into the smaller man's hips. Kant's chest heaves as he rides out the intense waves of pleasure, his eyes glazed over with ecstasy. "Oh fuck," he groans, his voice thick with pleasure and a hint of apology. "You feel too fucking good, I couldn't stop..." He looks up at Bison, his eyes dark with desire and admiration.
Rather than being put off by Kant's early finish, Bison looks smugly satisfied, a predatory glint in his eyes. He continues to grind his hips down, Kant's softening length still buried inside him. "So soon?" he taunts, lips curling into a wicked grin. "I was just getting started." He leans down, lips brushing the shell of Kant's ear as he murmurs filthy reassurances. "Don't worry, pretty boy, I'm going to ride you until you're hard again. Let you feel how hot and tight I am all over again." His hands roam over Kant's chest and abs, teasing the sensitive skin. "You came so deep inside me, filling me up nice and good," he groans, hips swiveling sinuously. "I can feel your load leaking out around your cock. So messy..." He captures Kant's lips in a searing kiss, all tongue and teeth, before pulling back just enough to speak again. "You're still hard for me, aren't you? You can go again, can't you, pretty boy?" His eyes gleam with a mixture of challenge and lust as he sits up, his hands gripping Kant's shoulders for leverage. He begins to bounce on Kant's lap, his movements deliberate and teasing, designed to stoke the flames of Kant's desire once more. "Come on, Kant. Show me what you've got. Fuck me like you mean it."
Kant lets out a shaky laugh, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. "Fuck, you're insatiable," he murmurs, both amazed and challenged by Bison's relentless teasing. He can already feel his body responding, heat stirring in his groin as Bison's words and movements stoke the flames of his desire. "You asked for it," he growls, his hands gripping Bison's hips tightly, fingers digging into the firm flesh. “Like this?” he growls, his competitive nature flaring. He flexes his muscles, using his strength to lift Bison slightly and then slam him back down onto his hardening cock. He begins to thrust upwards, meeting Bison’s descent with powerful, controlled movements. Kant’s earlier shyness is gone, replaced by a primal urge to conquer, to possess. "You wanted thorough? I'll show you thorough," he grunts, his thrusts becoming faster and more forceful as he aims for that bundle of nerves inside of Bison, hitting it over and over again. "Come on, princess. Make a mess for me, all over me. Come on," he coaxes breathlessly.
Bison arches his back, a strangled moan escaping his lips as Kant slams him down onto his hardening cock. He tries to hold back, to maintain control, but Kant's powerful thrusts and the possessive way he grips his hips are too much. And the word princess, again - oh the word is ruinous. "Fuck, Kant... I'm..." A low, guttural moan tears from his throat as his orgasm hits him with overwhelming force. His body convulses, his cock pulsing as he comes hard, painting Kant's toned abs with streaks of white. His hands slide up Kant's chest, past his shoulders, and wrap around his throat, his fingers pressing firmly into Kant's flesh, fingers tightening involuntarily as he climaxes, restricting Kant's airway. His body convulses around Kant's cock, milking him for every last drop of pleasure as he comes undone.
Kant's lips curl into a smug smile as he watches Bison come undone, the sight of the smaller man's orgasm sending a fresh wave of desire coursing through him. "That's it, come for me," he goads triumphantly. But his victorious expression quickly turns to shock as Bison's hands wrap around his throat, fingers pressing firmly into his flesh. Kant's eyes widen in surprise, a choked gasp escaping his lips as his airway is suddenly restricted. The unexpected sensation of airlessness sends a jolt of pleasure through his body, and to his utter shock, he feels his own orgasm building once more, quickly spiraling out of control. His hips buck up wildly, his cock throbbing as he comes again, hard and unexpected, spilling white heat into Bison once more. His hands grip Bison's hips tightly, his body shuddering with the force of his unexpected climax. As the waves of pleasure subside, Kant's hands move to gently wrap around Bison's wrists, not to pry them away, but just to hold them there, his eyes locked onto Bison's with a mixture of confusion and desire.
Bison watches in awe as Kant comes undone beneath him, his eyes widening in surprise and excitement as Kant bucks up into him, spilling heat into his already leaking hole once more. "Well, well," Bison murmurs breathily, a wicked smile spreading across his face as he watches Kant shudder with pleasure. "Looks like you enjoyed that more than you expected, pretty boy." His fingers flex around Kant's throat, maintaining their grip but not applying any further pressure. He leans down, brushing a kiss over the back of Kant's knuckles where they grip his wrists. "You came again just from me choking you," he taunts, his voice laced with mocking amusement. "That's cute and all, but now you've come twice and I only got one," Bison points out, his eyes dark as a killer's but his pout sultry as an angel's. "Make me come again," he demands, grinding down on Kant, the squelching sound wet and filthy. "You promised to be thorough," he reminds Kant.
Kant is dazed, his head swimming with the aftershocks of two powerful orgasms and the lingering pressure on his throat. He's exhausted, his muscles starting to ache, and a small voice in the back of his mind whispers a warning about the recklessness of this encounter, the strange vulnerability he feels beneath this beautiful, demanding man. But Bison's words, the mocking tone and the sulky demands, stir something deep within him, a deep-seated urge to please, to conquer, even as he's being conquered. He's enthralled, caught in the web of Bison's dark charm, and despite his exhaustion, he finds himself hardening once more under Bison's grinding motions. "Okay, okay," he rasps, his voice hoarse, a hint of helpless laughter in his tone. His hands roam over Bison's body, caressing and teasing, before wrapping around his thighs and pushing them up and apart, exposing where they're joined completely. "So messy," Kant murmurs, slowly thrusting, watching his cock disappear inside of Bison over and over again.
Bison lets out a shuddering gasp as Kant exposes him fully, his body trembling with oversensitivity. Each thrust of Kant's cock drags deliciously across his overstimulated nerves, sending sparks of pleasure-pain through him. "F-fuck..." he breathes out shakily. He leans back, thighs spread obscenely wide, and wraps a hand around his aching cock. He begins to stroke himself with firm, purposeful strokes, his eyes locked on Kant's with a burning intensity. "Don't you dare stop," he demands through gritted teeth, the warning clear in his tone. "I want to feel your cock thrusting into me as I get myself off on it." He bucks his hips down to meet Kant's thrusts, a low, keening whine escaping his lips at the electric jolts of sensation. "Harder," he orders breathlessly. "Fuck me harder and make me come again or I swear..." He leaves the threat open-ended, his voice hitching slightly as Kant's thrusts hit a particularly sensitive spot. His strokes quicken, building a frantic pace as he chases his climax relentlessly. "You're going to watch me make a mess of myself while your fat cock stretches me open. Don't take your eyes off me for a second," he demands, even as his own head lolls back, eyes closed in pleasure.
Kant grits his teeth, his body aching with the effort of keeping up with Bison's relentless demands. His cock feels raw, each thrust sending a shudder of pleasurable pain through him. But Bison's words, his commands, are irresistible. Kant's fingers dig sharply into Bison's thighs, nails biting into the soft flesh, a harsh growl escaping his lips. "You want it harder?" he rasps, his voice thick with effort and desire. "Fine." He redoubles his efforts, his hips pistoning upwards, driving his cock deep into Bison with each powerful thrust. His eyes bore into Bison's until the smaller man's head falls back, and Kant smirks in exhausted triumph. "You feel that?" he rasps. "You feel me fucking you, filling you up?" Kant groans, no longer sure if it's pain or pleasure he feels, his thrusts aiming for that sensitive spot again and again, relentless in his pursuit of Bison's pleasure, and his own. He can feel his own climax building, a dull ache in his balls, but he pushes it back, determined to make Bison come first, to watch him unravel at his hands. "God, you're so fucking pretty," he praises breathlessly.
Bison tries, he really tries to hold back and draw out the delicious torture of Kant's relentless thrusts. But the words of praise, the breathy way Kant calls him "pretty", combined with the exhilarating mixture of pain and pleasure as Kant fucks into him with bruising force, prove to be his undoing. A strangled cry escapes his lips as his orgasm slams into him without warning. His back arches, body going taut as a bowstring as his cock pulses hotly in his fist, ropes of white painting both of their abdomens. "Oh fuck...oh fuck Kant..." he babbles mindlessly, hips rolling in small, desperate circles as he milks every last shudder of pleasure from his climax. When it finally passes, leaving him boneless and lightheaded, he collapses forward onto Kant's chest, panting harshly.
Kant lets out a choked gasp as Bison comes undone, the sight of his pleasure pushing Kant over the edge once more. His hips stutter, thrusting up weakly as his orgasm hits him, a wave of pleasure that leaves him feeling wrung out and exhausted. He barely feels the hot rush of his release this time, his cock aching and oversensitive as it softens inside of Bison. His ears ring, his vision swims, tears forming in the corners of his eyes, and he struggles to catch his breath as he collapses back onto the bed, his chest heaving. His arms wrap around Bison automatically, holding the smaller man close as they both ride out the aftershocks of their shared pleasure. "Fuck, I'm dying," he pants breathlessly, his voice hoarse. He presses a kiss to the top of Bison's head, a tender gesture that belies the relentlessness of their joining.
Bison nuzzles into Kant's chest, pressing soft kisses to his sweat-slicked skin as they both come down from their high. When he notices the tears welling up in Kant, a predatory gleam reveals itself in Bison's eyes. He leans up, carefully licking away the tears, his tongue tracing a slow path down Kant's cheek. "Aw, poor baby," he croons, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. As Kant's breath evens out, Bison begins to move his hips again, grinding down on Kant's softening cock still trapped inside of him. Despite his own soreness and the ache in his muscles, Bison is turned on by Kant's obvious discomfort. He sits up, straddling Kant's hips, rolling his body in a slow, sensuous wave, his hands planted firmly on Kant's chest for leverage. "Come on, pretty boy," he coaxes. "You've been so good for me, you can give me one more," he asserts. "Shhh," he sighs, biting his bottom lip as he stares bewitchingly down at Kant, his movements slow but determined. "You can do it, do it for me. Want you one more time."
A whimper escapes Kant's lips, a mixture of exhaustion and arousal, as Bison grinds against him. His body screams in protest, muscles aching, cock throbbing painfully. He wants to push Bison away, to tell him he can't, but the words catch in his throat, replaced by a choked sob. He's overwhelmed, his senses overloaded, Bison's nearness, the scent of their combined sweat and sex, the demanding weight of his body, all combining into a heady cocktail of desire and despair. Tears stream down his face, a mixture of frustration and pleasure, as he writhes beneath Bison, his hips bucking weakly in a futile attempt to respond to the other man's demands. "P-please," he manages to gasp out, his voice broken and strained. "I can't..." His body refuses to comply, a soft keen escaping his lips as Bison continues to grind against him anyway, the friction sending jolts of raw pleasure through his oversensitive nerves. Kant gasps in ragged breaths as his trembling thighs strain, desperate to please despite his exhaustion. He closes his eyes, surrendering to the overwhelming sensations, his fingers digging into Bison's hips, nails leaving crescent-shaped marks on the smooth skin. "Fuck, please," he whispers, tears trailing down his temples, "I want to...but I can't..."
Bison leans down, his tongue lapping up the tears that stream down Kant's face, a low growl rumbling in his chest. The sight of Kant writhing beneath him, tears mixing with sweat on his flushed skin, his body trembling with exhaustion and arousal, is more intoxicating than Bison could have ever imagined. He grinds down relentlessly, the friction of their bodies building a slow burn, his own cock twitching against Kant's trembling, cum-slicked abs. "So sensitive," he murmurs, his voice thick with lust. "I knew you'd be good for me, pretty boy. Just like I knew you'd come apart for me again and again," Bison croons beside Kant's ear, wicked as the devil, but sweet as an angel. "I love seeing you like this, all flushed and desperate, crying for me." His words are filthy, dripping with lust and praise. "You're doing so good, taking everything I give you. Your cock feels so hot and sexy inside of me, just like this. Want you just like this," Bison moans appreciatively, swirling his hips tightly, his orgasm fast approaching as he takes and takes from Kant.
Kant's body shakes with a sob, tears spilling from his eyes as he gazes up at Bison, his eyes red-rimmed and despairing. "Wait, please," he chokes out, his voice broken and pleading, but even now, he doesn't use his safe-word. His hips lift weakly, meeting Bison's relentless grind, even as his oversensitive cock throbs with a mixture of pain and pleasure. "It... it hurts," he admits, his voice hitching with a whimper as he slowly catches on to what it is that Bison wants from him. His hands grip Bison's hips tighter, fingers digging into the firm flesh, not to push him away, but to hold him closer. His body is pushed to its limits, every nerve ending raw and exposed, but the sight of Bison above him, the sound of his filthy words and breathy moans, is intoxicating. He can feel his orgasm building, a dull ache that borders on pain, but he can't resist the urge to satisfy Bison's demands. "Oh god," he chokes out, back arching. "Please, please!" he begs, uncertain if he's begging for release or something more final, at this point.
Bison's eyes flutter closed as he grinds down on Kant, the friction of their bodies sending electric jolts of pleasure through him. The sight of Kant's tears, the desperation in his voice as he admits it hurts, sends a thrill through Bison, igniting something dark and primal within him. He leans down, capturing Kant's lips in a brutal kiss, his tongue invading Kant's mouth, claiming it as his own. His hands tighten around Kant's throat, fingers digging into his flesh as he comes undone, lost in the overwhelming pleasure of the moment, and a guttural cry rips from Bison's throat as his orgasm hits him with the force of a tidal wave, sending him rocking and bucking desperately on top of Kant, his cock leaking cum all over his already defiled abs one last time. "Fuck, you look so beautiful like this. Ruined," he groans, looking down at Kant possessively.
A strangled whimper escapes Kant's lips as Bison's orgasm rolls through him, the pressure on his throat intensifying as Bison climaxes. The word 'Ruined' echoes in his mind, strangely arousing, as a painful, dry orgasm rips through him, his body convulsing weakly beneath Bison. "Thank you," he has the barest presence of mind to whisper before his vision blurs, the edges darkening as his breath catches in his throat due to Bison's dainty hands constricting his airway, and merciful oblivion claims him, his body going limp beneath Bison's weight.
When Kant wakes, he's alone in the hotel room, with only the enamel HeartBurger pin remaining on the bedside table.