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Megumi slams Yuuji down onto the tatami mats of the dōjō, the afternoon sun warming his face through the opened paper shōji, and Megumi recovers his breath as he runs his clothed arm over his forehead at an attempt to swipe at the sweat clinging his bangs to his skin. Yuuji struggles a little around the grip Megumi has on his neck but Megumi is quick to hold his hands together too, adjusting himself so his knee is pressing down on the small of Yuuji’s back. He isn’t sure if it’s the heat that accumulates under his sweater from the sparring and the sun both, or if it’s the way Yuuji is squirming under him, mumbling something that Megumi can’t hear from the way the blood rushes in his ears, but he’s burning hot, heart slamming against his ribcage with each beat.
Megumi leans further into Yuuji, who yelps like a kicked puppy. “You’re starting to hurt me, Megumi.” He pays his complaint no mind and tightens his grip around his wrists and neck both. “What are you doin’? C’mon, it’s hurtin’ for real.”
“Shut up,” Megumi barks. He feels Yuuji tense under his grasp, and then turn his head to look up at him confusedly.
“What’s wrong?”
Hell if Megumi knows; all he can say for certain is that there’s a certain hunger building up in the pit of his stomach, something born out of seeing Yuuji all pliant and submissive to him for years, a need for something more. He’s finally coming to terms with selfishness and he’s going to get what he wants, no matter what Yuuji tells him. “Stay put,” he orders, eyes wide and mad. Yuuji obeys for whatever reason and Megumi rewards him by releasing him, then he moves a hand to Yuuji’s hair. He looks into his eyes as he pets him before he’s standing up, pulling Yuuji up by the roots of his hair as he does this. Yuuji whines and tries to push Megumi’s hand off him, only for Megumi to slap him across the face. The sharp sounds echoes in the training room, bouncing off the tatami mats and the walls, and Yuuji doesn’t move his head, now hanging low from the impact. Megumi’s cock stirs in his loose sweatpants when Yuuji looks up at him with a red handprint on his cheek, his eyes all wet and red from crying, and Megumi learns he hates himself even more than he ever thought. He wants to shift the blame but he’s almost getting off on how incredibly depraved he’s being, how soulless. Maybe he’d just like to have a toy all for himself, one he picked out rather than given to him. His lips tremble a little before he’s grinning down at Yuuji, wide and starving.
Yuuji’s eyes widen and he stiffens, and Megumi notices his hands picking at his own pants, though he’s quick to kick at them. “I’m scared,” he hears Yuuji whisper roughly, shadows of the tears he’s shedding all over, his eyes casting down. Jolting, Yuuji looks up at Megumi with a hope in his gaze that Megumi can’t wait to crush. There must be something horribly wrong with him, he thinks. “Human Earthworm! That’s the thing, right? You, you said you’d stop—”
“Shut up.” Megumi yanks Yuuji’s head back by the hair until the column of his neck is at his mercy. He wraps his free hand around it, squeezing for only a second, not missing the way Yuuji’s thighs press against each other. Megumi smirked—all that crying and pleading and the slut was enjoying himself. “You run your mouth so much,” Megumi comments as he lets go of Yuuji’s neck in order to push his sweats down, his other hand forcing his head down to face him again. “I can think of something better for you to do with it.” Yuuji looks from Megumi’s face to the bulge in front of him and Megumi hums when he opens his mouth, shaking his head.
“Megumi, please. C’mon, let’s stop, okay?”
“You can’t lie to me, Yuuji,” he drawls, pressing a socked foot against Yuuji’s cock. It isn’t as hard as Megumi suspected and that makes him frown, though he presses down on it regardless.
“I’m not, you’re genuinely freaking me out, Megumin,” he whines, so precious and frightened, so irresistible.
Megumi laughs, low and rumbly and mean. “You’re so pathetic, fuck.” He squeezes himself over his boxers and then presses a thumb to the middle of Yuuji’s plump bottom lip, digging his nail into it before he’s forcing it past his teeth. His breath is shallow as he gags Yuuji around the digit before replacing it with his fore and middle fingers, which he presses against Yuuji’s tongue, drool leaking past his lips and onto Megumi’s hand. “So pretty like this… I’m gonna shut you up, now.” He wraps his now wet fingers around his heavy, hot cock and pulls it out of his boxers, roughly urging it past Yuuji’s still parted lips.
Yuuji blinks and tries to argue, but there’s only a muffled, gargled sound as Megumi thrusts into his wet mouth, so warm and tight and then he’s wrapping his free hand around Yuuji’s neck again, feeling how it works to swallow around his cock. He keeps choking and Megumi thinks about slapping him again, but the added feeling of Yuuji’s throat constricting around the heavy weight is beyond heavenly. It’s not long before Yuuji is sobbing, hands pathetically pulling at the soft fabric of Megumi’s sweatpant legs.
“You’re so good at taking it. Stop fighting it, you fucking idiot. Don’t you have any fucking survival instincts? Huh? Are you too goddamn stupid,” a harsh thrust and Yuuji gargles out something that could be mistaken for a moan, “to realize you just need to swallow my cock? Hm? Stop struggling and be the good little boy I know you are. Trained you so well, didn’t I?” Yuuji tries to shake his head but Megumi fucks his face harder and faster, not allowing him to breathe. Yuuji’s eyelids flutter and he’s losing the strength on the grip he has on Megumi’s sweats. “I know you love this. How many times did you ask me to ram it down your tight little throat? You always get so needy sucking me off, stop faking it.” Yuuji swallows around Megumi’s cockhead and he has to force Yuuji off his dick in order to not come.
Yuuji lets himself fall to the mats as he coughs for air, choking on a mix of his own spit and Megumi’s pre-cum, and he curls into fetal position, his hands curled into tight fists, drool dripping from his lips and sprayed all over the otherwise clean tatami mat, fat tears joining them. He clears his throat and tries to sit up by supporting himself on his hands, only that Megumi hates to see him attempt to flee from his rightful, pitiful place and so he kicks at his arms. “Please, stop. I don’t know what’s happening,” his voice is breaking and Megumi feels the fear in his words setting that hunger that devours him alight, an all-consuming fire. “Human Earthworm, Human Earthworm, Human Earthworm,” he repeats like a prayer that will protect him from the awful things Megumi has planned for him. “I don’t know,” he sobs and Megumi moves one hand to masturbate as he watches Yuuji grovel deplorably, shamefully, fisting his dick roughly, squeezing the base and pressing his thumb under the head. “Megumi, you’re scaring me. Did I do something?” Yuuji sniffles, eyes now on Megumi after they focused for a split second on the way he’s touching himself in front of Yuuji, getting off to his discomfort. “Are you hurt? Is it a curse? Were, were you hit or somethin’ on that solo mission? I don’t—”
“Quit barking,” is all Megumi says with a grunt as he stops himself from orgasming, fingers tight around his balls. Maybe it was a curse, maybe that’s what Megumi is in his right to call the life that was forced upon him, that he didn’t ask for, that he can’t wait to end. Maybe Megumi himself has spent so much time around curses—exorcising them for years can’t be good for his psyche—to the point where he isn’t that much different from one. He can ponder about this, or he can take Yuuji in full. He picks the latter. Since Yuuji is already on the ground, this is an even easier choice, and Megumi doesn’t hesitate to grab Yuuji’s trembling arm and quickly manhandle him, face pressed against the mat, hands at the small of his back held together by Megumi’s tight grip like before, back curved to present his ass. Megumi kneels behind Yuuji’s shaking figure and slots a leg between Yuuji’s thighs, spreading them apart so that he can easily push his sweatpants and boxers down just enough to that he can see Yuuji’s asshole if he grabs at his ass and pulls. It’s still gaping from when they fucked yesterday, and Megumi can see fresh lube that Yuuji didn’t manage to clean entirely, something that makes his eyebrows twitch because he sure as hell makes sure Yuuji doesn’t leave his side while prepared for anyone else. “What’s this?” Yuuji squirms in lieu of a reply and Megumi simply raises his hand and aggressively strikes him over an ass cheek, making him mewl into the floor. “I said, what is this? Don’t tell me you’re already that fucked out just from sucking some cock.”
Yuuji sobs quietly, muffled before he turns his head to look at Megumi from under his bangs, cheeks ruddy and wet with wayward tears that don’t seem to stop. “I just… I got off, earlier, I guess.”
“You guess?”
“I got off, earlier,” he replies, barely making any eye contact with Megumi. “I’m sorry. Please, stop. Someone might walk in…” He squeezes his eyes shut and sniffs, front teeth digging into his bottom lip as he shudders. “Megumi, I don’t want anyone seeing us, please. I don’t like it. I don’t like this.” His voice is so soft Megumi has to make an active effort to hear his pathetic, worthless complaining. “Let’s stop and, and just go to our dorms, okay?” Yuuji licks at his lips and then glances up at Megumi and he doesn’t seem to realize that he’s at his most erotic when he’s begging Megumi to stop, when he’s staring up at him with wide, wet eyes, when he’s squirming to release himself from Megumi’s hold. Megumi’s cock grows harder still and his eyelids flutter as his face burns hotter. He breathes out slowly and lets go of Yuuji’s wrists, who mistakes it for permission to move and who smiles at Megumi for finally listening, — “Thank you! Thank you, Gumi!” — only Megumi isn’t listening and Yuuji’s bright expression shatters into realization and then despair.
Megumi leans his body weight against Yuuji’s muscular back and bites the nape of his neck, digging his teeth into the flesh until it gives in, until he can taste Yuuji’s blood on his tongue. He moans and lets go, leaning back so that he can hold Yuuji’s ass cheeks apart before he presses the fat head of his cock against the swollen, under-prepared ring of muscle. “You should be loose enough, right?” Megumi doesn’t wait for an answer as he forces Yuuji to take all of his cock in one fast, hard thrust, and he gasps like he has never felt closer to Heaven when Yuuji cries out and tightens impossibly around him. “Fuck,” Megumi chokes out, and he moves his hands to Yuuji’s waist, setting them under his shirt, hastily clipped nails digging into the soft flesh of his hips, thumbs pressing against his back and he can see blood drawing under it, where Yuuji’s shirt has ridden up his back.
The sun has begun to set and the warm, orange light is the only thing illuminating the dōjō now, sunrays so soft against their bodies Megumi can’t help but smile at how pretty Yuuji looks under him, all frightened and horrified and tight and perfect and pliant, like he knows deep down he doesn’t wanna fight back. He laughs lowly and breathlessly, tongue running over his yaeba, and moves his hands to spread Yuuji’s cheeks again, just to watch how he clenches around his cock. There’s blood blooming around it, trickling down to Yuuji's balls, and the sight has Megumi biting down another moan, baffled at just how utterly deranged Yuuji is capable of making him by doing nothing. He pulls out until the cockhead catches at Yuuji’s rim, bloodied and looser, before he thrusts back in, as hard as before and Yuuji jolts, his head lifting off the floor as he gasps. He’s trembling when he turns to look at Megumi, a weak hand pushing at Megumi’s, saliva collecting at the corner of his mouth, already smeared over his chin. “Too deep, you’re in too deep, Megumi, it really hurts. It hurts, please, stop—” Megumi shuts him up by fucking into him hard and fast, mean thrusts that have him stop any attempt at fighting back, head thrashing furiously even as it meets the floor. “Hurts,” he gasps again.
Megumi leans in, eyes wide and focused not unlike a predator with a defenseless little rabbit at its disposal, and his grin is positively insane, no other word to describe it that isn’t a synonym of deranged, crazed, lost to a maniacal, animalistic bloodlust. “Good,” he whispers into Yuuji’s ear, then licks a fat stripe from the shell to the lobe, which he bites at, hard enough to bleed. Yuuji yelps and sobs in pain, shaking his head again, and Megumi kindly lets go, tongue lapping at the blood that swells up.
The hand he has splayed over Yuuji’s ass moves slowly so that he can dip his fingers into Yuuji’s hole, next to his cock in order to lube them with Yuuji’s blood. He slows down his thrusts in order to properly fuck Yuuji open, fighting back against the way he clenches around him, the way he squirms in a fruitless attempt at getting away from him, and seeing the way the shadows grow underneath their bodies, he gets an idea. They’re training, after all, what a waste it would be for Megumi to not practice control over his Ten Shadows Technique. So, he removes his fingers and wraps that hand around Yuuji’s soft cock, thumb digging into the slit like he knows Yuuji loves; he fucks into him with a hard, mean thrust and stops, grinding deep into Yuuji’s insides as he concentrates in controlling his shadows. Two weak, pitch black tendrils wrap around Yuuji’s wrists and force his hands into the depths of Megumi’s shadows, leaving Yuuji incapable of moving them, making him cry in frustration and unfiltered fear; then two more wrap around his thighs, forcing them apart and letting Megumi use his hands freely without having to worry about holding Yuuji down in order to fuck into him, to allow himself this big self-indulgence. It doesn’t take long for Yuuji to be completely bound to the floor by Megumi’s Cursed Technique, cementing in Megumi’s mind that this really is the inherited technique of one of the three big families, as the shadows seem to almost dig into Yuuji’s skin, making Megumi hope they leave angry marks behind when they’re done with this.
He leans back on his haunches and runs his free hand through his hair, his palm left damp from the sweat that collects at his scalp, then he leans back down and presses his chest against Yuuji’s back, again. He brings his right hand from Yuuji’s dick to his mouth and tells him simply: “Spit.” Yuuji seems to have begun understanding the position he’s in, not one where he can argue or fight back, but one where he’s totally at Megumi’s mercy. Just the reminder of it makes Megumi’s cock grow inside of Yuuji and his eyelids flutter; he’s not going to last much longer like this. Yuuji lets saliva drip onto Megumi’s hand and then, out of his own volition, sucks two of Megumi’s fingers into his mouth, running his tongue in between the digits. He whimpers at the salty and metallic taste, but doesn’t stop bobbing his head. “What a good boy.” He pets Yuuji gently as he withdraws his hand and wraps it around Yuuji’s hardening cock, a sly grin growing on Megumi’s lips. “You filthy little liar. Pretending you’re not enjoying this.” He pulls out only halfway before he begins to fuck Yuuji again, fisting his cock at the same punishing pace, biting at Yuuji’s jaw to hear him let out helpless, airy little whines at every particularly deeper thrust, as Megumi forces his head down against the ground when he tries to shake his head no. “Why didn’t you push me off earlier, then, huh? Admit it. You want it. You’re a dirty little pervert who dreams of getting raped. I bet you’d come all over yourself right now if anyone saw how pathetic you are, how much you really enjoy being fucked against your will.” Yuuji’s cock kicks under his touch. “That’s right. You’re as fucked in the head as I am, Yuuji. It’s why we’re so good for each other.”
Yuuji doesn’t reply, lips parted and bitten raw as he drools onto the tatami mat, wet with his tears and snot already, his eyes soft and half-lidded, and Megumi moans loudly at the sight; how precious, how cute, how hot. He’s so pliant now, Megumi could release his shadows and he’s certain Yuuji wouldn’t move, would simply lay there pretty and still like a doll.
“All those muscles, all that cursed energy, all that power and you can’t even stop me from taking you however the fuck I want. You feel so good, so tight around me. Shit, I wish I could keep you forever, lock you up and just use you any time I want. Whenever I’m back from a mission, all you gotta do is lie down like this and let me fuck you.” He noses behind Yuuji’s ear before he blows on it, humming as Yuuji shiveers underneath him. “Wanna know something, Yuu?” He calls him a nickname he finds utterly embarrassing—it isn’t Yuuji’s fault, Megumi just still has a long road ahead of him in terms of emotional vulnerability—to make sure Yuuji pays attention to him through the white noise he’s sure he’s dealing with. “I keep thinking of knocking you up.” Yuuji closes his eyes and tries to hide his face, but Megumi tugs at the soft pink curls he’s holding onto and turns his head again. His thrusts are sloppy now, too fast and too hard and Megumi is driving himself insane with his own dirty talk, with the way Yuuji clenches around his heavy, thick cock. “With a technique like mine and a body like yours, they’d be be so fucking strong. Don’t you think so? Hm? Maybe I’ll really do it, maybe I’ll rape a baby into you, fuck. Gonna fill you up so much, you're gonna get pregnant,” he gasps out. “Fucking take it.” He moans loudly and sharply, the cooler air of an October evening hurting his teeth, and he comes deep into Yuuji, filling him up as he had so many times before this, though now it feels like there’s something else, something horrible blooming beneath Megumi’s ribs, like a dam he has broken, a line he has crossed that he can never come back from. “Come for me like the good cockslut I know you are, Yuuji,” he growls out once he’s recovered from the wreckage of his orgasm, hand pumping Yuuji’s now fully hard cock faster, twisting his wrist just the right way.
Yuuji shakes his head but it’s no use; Megumi is unrelenting and he pulls his cock out in order to fuck his cum into Yuuji with three of his fingers, blood still pooling around the puffy, abused rim. He chokes out a tiny “stop” and then his body locks up, his hole tightening around Megumi’s digits and his cock jumping in Megumi’s deft hand, and he spills cum over the mats, spluttering over up to his chin. Megumi releases his cursed technique, withdrawing both hands from his body, and stops Yuuji from falling to the ground when the shadows are no longer there to support him, then turns him on his back and lays him next to the pathetically large puddle of his own cum. Yuuji looks up to Megumi, thoroughly fucked out, deep, post-orgasmic blush running past his shirt and tinting his cheeks, brown eyes glassy from the tears that wet his cheeks, and his face is too messy with countless body fluids. Megumi cradles his cheek and Yuuji startles, turning his head away and closing his eyes tightly, like he’s expecting Megumi to hit him again. Idiot.
“I’m not gonna hurt you.” Yuuji opens his eyes but he doesn’t look at him and, for some reason, it makes Megumi’s heart hurt, clasped cruelly underneath a cold fist. He runs through any possible sentence he could say to make Yuuji feel less upset, but none of them sound right. He lets out an annoyed little sigh and rolls his eyes, then he gets up and fixes himself by drawing his cock back into his boxers and pulling up his sweatpants. His shirt sticks to his back with sweat and it bothers him, so he decides to be done for the day, to hit the communal showers and then go straight to bed after some ginger and lemon tea. “I’m gonna go,” he tells Yuuji as he closes the shōji, saving Yuuji the humiliation of someone truly finding him in such a pitiful position, besides he’s too sure he’d attempt to actually kill whoever of his classmates would have seen him. He makes his way to the door without sparing his boyfriend a glance; he’s a bit too worried he’ll actually get hard again from the lewd, obscene sight.
“Why…?” Yuuji calls out to him, voice as broken as him, soft and terrified and miserable.
Megumi turns his head and looks down at Yuuji, whose gaze is fixed on the ceiling, who still hasn’t moved from the posture Megumi had placed him in. He blinks down at him and then up to wherever Yuuji is staring at, then sighs again and turns his head. “Who knows.”
He closes the door behind him, Yuuji’s quiet sobs muffled behind it.