Work Text:
“Have sex with me.”
“... Huh?”
Iori's mouth hung open in surprise, arms frozen in the air, mid-dusting. Fumiya met his gaze directly while waiting for a response. He knew his proposition was a little out there, but he was sure that Iori wouldn't mind. In fact, he knew he didn't. The question was asked with 100% confidence in what the answer was going to be.
A few seconds of silence passed before the feather duster was settled upon the living room's center table, Iori standing straight with hands folded neatly over his lap. He bowed his head.
“Alright, as you wish.”
-
“Hrrk… mnng…”
Slurping noises echoed in the bedroom, adding to the growing warmth in Fumiya's stomach. Wondering if Iori was just as affected by the noise as he was, his hands drifted down to play with the boy's ears. Plugging them with the tip of his finger and playing with the squishy lobe. The following hum of satisfaction sent a vibration down his cock that felt nice, so he continued.
Ito Fumiya had been curious about something for a while.
This walking contradiction, who claimed to have no desires while wearing them all on his sleeve, recently found himself wondering about how far down some of those wants really reached. The guy was undoubtedly a masochist, no matter how many times he refused it, as was clear to anyone with eyes or ears. But how much of a masochist was he? There was something intriguing about how desperate he was to be treated like nothing.
This simple curiosity began to eat at him to the point that he ended up ordering Iori directly. He also kind of just wanted to have sex.
“Shlup… mmn… hhngh…”
I mean… why not? What was wrong with it? Iori was clearly going to say yes. In fact, he was probably waiting for someone to request this for a while.
That said, he wasn't exactly expecting to feel it as much as he was right now, but he couldn't say it was bad.
The sensation of Iori's (surprisingly) inexperienced tongue messily gliding over his cock felt better than expected, and he couldn't help but sigh. Perhaps spurred on by the sudden sound of satisfaction, Iori sank himself all the way down, burying the entirety of Fumiya's length within his throat.
“Hhrkg…”
“Ah.” The sudden warmth that surrounded him pulsed rhythmically, swallowing in painful rolls. Maybe this would have also been good, but… the angle…
“Iori, knock it off.” He bit his lip, hands scrambling down to yank Iori off his dick by his hair. Shit…. That hurt.
“Haah…” Iori panted, drool travelling down his chin. “Sorry… I'm not good at this sort of thing yet…”
“It's whatever,” Fumiya mumbled, frowning while examining his parts for any signs of damage. Luckily, he was okay, and the pain seemed to be going down.
“No..!” Iori suddenly exclaimed, grasping Fumiya's hands with frenzied fervor.
“Huh-?”
“It's unforgivable! A slave should never bring harm upon their master..! I need to be punished!!”
Weird, but expected. Fumiya tried to pull away, but he could see his skin already turning red from how strong his grip was.
“Uh. No. Seriously, I don't care.”
Suddenly, he felt the mattress bounce against his back. Iori had tackled him, pinning him down into the sheets with a heavy expression. “You have to punish me...”
Yikes.
“You just want to be hit.”
“Wha- w-want to???” Iori's eyes widened in horror, appalled that he'd even suggest such a thing. “I don’t want anything. This is just how it should be! I made a mistake, so you should discipline me! Come on, punish me!! Subjugate me!!!” He panted wildly.
Fumiya looked down. As expected, Iori was hard.
“Hm.”
Well, he wanted to see those desires Iori would never admit to, so why not? It's what he was here for anyway. That, and sex.
With that in mind, Fumiya flipped him over, switching their positions. Iori yelped in surprise, but it was impossible not to notice the subtle smile pulling at the corner of his lips.
He didn't really know much about punishing people, so it'd probably be fine if he just did what he wanted, right?
Fumiya knelt over Iori's face, getting his semi-stiff dick out again and bringing it close enough to just barely trace his bottom lip.
“I didn't get to finish, so let me use your mouth again.”
Iori beamed, already sticking his tongue out. “Ohey…♡”
Fumiya rubbed the tip against his pink flesh, watching the trail of saliva glisten when he pulled back. Fingers curled against blue hair as he fully pushed himself past his lips, sinking back into the slippery warmth from before, and they remained like that for a moment, with Fumiya letting the other boy warm his cock and nothing else. There was something about the poorly veiled desperation on Iori’s face that brought Fumiya back into the mood, reigniting the drive he lost from the ridiculous exchange from earlier. Once the pleasant sensation built up once again, he slowly began to rock his hips.
Shallow thrusts rubbed the roof of Iori's mouth, pressing against the back of his throat on occasion. Each brush against his soft palate elicited a subtle gag or groan followed by a vibrating rumble, spurring Fumiya to hit that deeper spot more often. But he didn’t try to push any further, choosing to stay within the comfort of his oral cavity, indulging in the soft tongue that wrapped around his length, squishing around with each and every movement.
“Huff… haah…” Fumiya sighed, chasing his pleasure within the vacuum of Iori’s mouth. His hands came up to grip the sheets beside the other’s head, forcing the angle upwards into a position that was undoubtedly uncomfortable, but he lay down obediently, craning neck and all, letting Fumiya use him just as he was ordered.
Shlck, schlck, shlup, gag.
As he drew closer, his movements became more erratic and forceful. Without realizing it, he had slipped into Iori’s throat, but even after noticing, he didn’t really care much. The tightness was incredible without the horrible feeling of his dick being bent, and it was hotter, both figuratively and literally. All in all, insanely good. Each thrust and gag pulled him closer and closer to the edge, and Fumiya continued to shove himself deeper until his mind exploded into a fuzzy mess of an orgasm, instinctively submerging himself as far as he could into the heat.
“Hmm...” Fumiya groaned, riding it out. The haze took a while to clear, but once it did, the first thing he noticed was the strangled gasps coming from below. His dick was still completely buried in Iori’s throat. Oops.
Moving upwards, he slipped out with a pop and tucked himself in. Iori wheezed and rolled over to the side, propping himself up with shaky arms and gulping in air between heavy, wet-sounding coughs. Cum splattered onto the bed sheets, dribbling down his chin towards the final few hacks as his body calmed down from the impromptu choking session.
How long were they like that for? Fumiya had no clue, maybe over a minute. Damn, Iori’s breath control was pretty good; he’d take note of that for later.
While he was lost in his head, Iori crawled over with an expectant gaze. “Did I do a good job? Did you like it?” He asked, voice hoarse and throat surely sore.
With thoughts of future spearfishing excursions, Fumiya mindlessly reached over to pat his head. “Yeah, good job,” he praised.
If Iori had a tail, it would be wagging. Eyebrows raised in pure bliss and eyes crinkled in joy, the sight caused an unknown emotion to stir in Fumiya’s stomach, urging him to continue his caressing. But Iori didn’t allow for even a moment of rest before he started to take off his own clothes, folding them neatly and placing them to the side while humming.
“What are you doing?” Fumiya asked, lying back against the headboard after his hands’ target moved away. He was relaxing now, basking in the afterglow.
He watched as the boy positioned himself at the foot of the bed, raising his legs and suddenly exposing himself fully to Fumiya. Thin fingers reached over to scoop up some fluid from the sheets, using it as lube as his digits began to massage his own entrance. One finger managed to slip in with ease, but maybe it wasn’t slick enough, because Iori leaned over to drool over the hand that was already inside him.
Eh? Was he planning to go all the way? Already?
Using his saliva, the boy continued to stretch himself out, slipping another finger in, then another, until there were three. It was pretty fascinating, seeing someone pleasure themselves from this angle. Or rather, prepare themselves, as Fumiya was sure he’d insist that there was no pleasure involved in this. Those hands looked way more experienced than his tongue, and he’d be lying if he said that this visual wasn’t stimulating, so he watched until he grew bored, which took a total of two minutes.
Fumiya decided to let Iori go at it by himself for a bit while he recovered, so he pulled out his phone and started scrolling through Inst*gram. However, he didn’t get to watch even one full reel before he felt a sudden weight on his stomach.
“Sorry for the wait~” Iori chimed, slipping off Fumiya’s pants and boxers.
That was fast. Did he even stretch himself out properly?
“Uh. One second.” Fumiya muttered, moving his phone upwards as the other boy straddled him. He wanted to finish his video, and he wasn’t even sure if he could get it up again. Couldn’t he just stretch himself out some more?
“It’s okay, you can relax if you want. I’ll take care of you~” Sticky hands wrapped around his length, rubbing him from base to tip with slimy-sounding strokes.
Fumiya continued to watch his reel as Iori worked his magic, humming while jerking him off enthusiastically. It was a strange feeling, watching someone review a nearby cafe as his cock was getting massaged. He couldn’t tell if he liked it or not. Either way, he had recovered faster than he expected: it didn’t take that long for him to get hard.
“Done! Would you like me to ride you, or do you wanna do it on your own?” Iori asked, peering over Fumiya’s phone.
“Hm.” He clicked the power button and set the device to the side. “Lie down.”
“As you wish!!”
Iori dove face down into the bed with an enthusiastic fwump, hugging the pillow and sticking his ass up for Fumiya to use. Doggy-style it was then.
As he lined himself up with his hole, he paused. His earlier intuition seemed to be correct; it really didn’t look like he stretched himself out properly. Wouldn’t it hurt if he just put it in? It would hurt Iori, too, he guessed. Instead of pushing in his dick, his fingers curiously slipped inside. Iori yelped at the unexpected, smaller insertion, snapping up and turning around with a confused expression.
“What are you doing??”
“Stretching you out,” Fumiya replied plainly.
“You don’t need to do that, just shove it in.” He urged.
“No but-”
“Come onnnn!!”
Ehh... How exactly was he supposed to do this? He still looked tight. Ah whatever. Iori liked pain anyway.
Fumiya withdrew his fingers and, with zero warning, snapped his hips upwards, bottoming out to the end of his rectum in an instant. Iori let out a sudden gasp, throwing his head back with wide eyes. His ass trembled along with the rest of his body and squeezed down in response, eliciting a strangled grunt from the one responsible. Fumiya's first time with Iori was accompanied by way more pain than he was expecting, and it was starting to get a little annoying.
“Loosen up.” He ordered through gritted teeth.
“O..kay…”
Fumiya felt the pressure lessen, but his walls continued to pulsate around him as if attempting to swallow him deeper. It took a while before he felt like he could move, exhaling slowly as he tried to pace himself in the suffocating heat. Such an intense suction so soon right after climaxing once made his head spin, but his hips continued to thrust despite himself. Iori panted into the pillow, pushing himself back onto Fumiya’s dick whenever he pulled away. Hot.
“Oh- ah- Fumiya-san…” The boy whined, clawing at the mattress. “You can go harder- ah… harderr..” Fumiya obliged, amused by Iori seemingly giving in to his desires, but the requests didn't stop.
“Oh god…! Ah, faster! Haah…! Use me! Break me…!”
It was difficult to notice earlier since his mouth was plugged up, but Iori was pretty noisy during sex.
“Fuck me until I can’t stand! Destroy me!”
And incredibly shameless.
Fumiya felt his face heat up, eyebrows knitted in cringe. A red palm slapped over Iori's mouth. “Stop talking.”
“Mmm mmph…!” The boy thrashed his head around in protest. It took a while for Fumiya to realize that he was actually resisting and not just squirming from his thrusting. Was he trying to say something? He kind of didn't want to hear it, to be honest… But he removed his hand anyway.
“Haah! But..!” Iori cried out with a sharp inhale, “You're still treating me like a person..! Stop caring about hurting me! Ngh… You can go faster, as hard as you want! I can take it!”
Fumiya opened his mouth to protest, ‘I'm going as fast as I can though…’ but those words died on his tongue. He felt like his pride was being challenged. Theoretically, he could go faster, but he just didn't think it'd feel as good, so it wasn’t a matter of performance.
…What was a slave doing making demands anyway? Annoyed, he decided to poke the bear and try something out.
“If you want to be screwed harder, just say so,” he stated plainly.
“Huhh???” Iori erupted as expected, “That's absurd, I told you I have no desires! None… ungh… at all!”
“Oh.”
Fumiya suddenly reached over and forcefully slammed Iori's face into the pillow by his head, leaning into his ear as he ordered, “Then shut up.”
He felt the boy shudder and tighten beneath him with muffled, shaky moans.
Nice.
Hips continued to slam through Iori's orgasm, plowing deeper with zero regard for his person, just as he requested. Fumiya didn't need to see his face to know how euphoric he must have been—such an interesting reaction. This guy was so interesting. Fumiya chuckled inwardly as he moved his hand down to Iori’s neck, holding him in place as he settled into his slower, more ideal speed. Unsure if his preferences were getting twisted or if they were always this way, he didn't really care. It felt good. He liked how, despite his whining, in the end, Iori really did take anything Fumiya gave him. It was really convenient.
They continued like that for another seven minutes until Fumiya got tired, switching to a cowgirl position instead. Lying back and letting Iori do all the work, the boy on top rocked himself on his dick with a vigor that never subsided even after his third orgasm.
“Ah- ah!! Fu-.. sa… Mmph!” Iori moaned, tears running down his face.
Any normal person would have tapped out a long time ago, but putting an end to this was probably the last thing on his mind. There was no way he wasn’t overstimulated to hell and back, but he just kept on riding him.
Fumiya preferred this position, where he didn’t have to do anything. With Iori putting in all the effort, all he had to do was just sit back and feel it, and feel it he did. Despite all his begging earlier, Iori seemed to remember the pace he had set before, bouncing himself to that ideal rhythm. Fumiya shut his eyes, feeling his peak approaching.
“Ah.. Huff… Hehe… You’re about to cum… right, Fumiya-san? Hah…” Iori smiled, wrapping his arms around his neck and picking up the pace. “You can let it out inside me, I’ll clean it up…”
The boy panted as Iori began slamming his hips down erratically, determined to make him spill everything within.
“Ah… ah-... c'mon… let it out.. hehe..” He coaxed, whining each time he sank down. He was close, so close, but it wasn't quite enough. Fumiya groaned before reaching out and grabbing Iori's hips, holding him in place as he thrusted upwards.
“Aaaahh..!”
Grunts, pants, and messy noises flooded the room as the sole party chased his pleasure, the other welcoming everything that was offered to him in full. Even when Iori slumped forward, no longer able to hold himself up, Fumiya kept driving himself in further, ignoring the signs of his umpteenth orgasm. The warmth of Iori's ass sucked him in, wrapping around his length with the stamina stolen from the rest of his body. Whenever he shoved himself deep, the tightness doubled, prompting him to go as far in as he could go. Clothed arms wrapped around the limp boy's body, pushing him down even further than when he was holding just his hips.
Pathetic cries slipped from Iori's mouth, making him light-headed. They weren't even words anymore, just vague sounds that resembled begging. Fumiya didn't know or care about what he was begging for. He needed to finish no matter what.
The bed creaked in time with Fumiya's sighs, which grew heavier by the second. He found himself slamming into Iori harder and harder until he finally caught up with that pressure in his head, vision exploding into a blinding white.
Even through his muffled hearing, he could still make out the other boy's nonsensical mumbles of servitude, thanking him profusely as he continued to empty himself wave after wave.
“Haah…”
Fumiya pulled out and collapsed on the mattress, panting heavily. Iori lay on top of him, twitching periodically and continuing to squeeze out quiet gratitude through his scratchy throat
His head was fuzzy, leaving room for no thoughts outside of the flickering satisfaction that settled into every corner of his body. Aside from the uncomfortably sticky aftermath, it was great. He would probably put it in his top 3 pleasurable experiences, right under the first bite he ever took from the mille crepe cake Iori made when everyone first moved in together. It was amazing. The sex, that is. So amazing, in fact, that Fumiya felt himself drifting off to sleep in all his contentment and comfort. Just before he dozed off, he managed to utter one final thing.
“... Iori…”
The boy perked up upon hearing his name, shakily lifting his head. “Yes? Haah…”
“Clean me.”
And with that order, he fell asleep. Iori caught his breath for a moment as he smiled, nodding his head for the person who wasn't awake to hear.
“Alright, as you wish.”
In the hazy fog of his drifting consciousness, Ito Fumiya could barely make out the sensation of something soft brushing against his cheek for just a moment. That night, he had the best sleep he’d ever had in months.