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The slow humming of music streamed in through the open window. Long, silken curtains flowed gently in the cool breeze, and the smell of cigars and whiskey hung heavy in the air. Night had fallen over Tokyo so fast he hadn’t had the time to blink.
He hadn’t intended to stay. All he’d wanted to do was to deliver a few documents and perhaps berate the asshole for his behavior.
You know, for letting him drop off a goddamn bridge.
Oh, well, things certainly never went his way. Neither did they that night. Daisuke hadn’t given him a chance to voice his anger. No, the change in mood was instant.
A glass of wine for each, a platter of cheese and the best jazz the city could offer streaming in through a window so big he could see the Tokyo skyline as clearly as a picture, was all it took to mellow him to the bone. To get him soft and pliant and so, so willing.
He wouldn’t deny that the guy looked… well, dangerous. Not in the gangster way. No, Daisuke was another level of danger. He was dangerous in the way expensive cars and sex on the balcony one regrettable night were. Dangerous in the alluring, intriguing way. In the way fine cuisine melts on your tongue, or the way good perfume hums you to nothing in his arms.
It hadn’t been his intention to end up with his hands tied above his head, drowning in rosy sheets of velvet, but there he lay. Swept off his feet by the asshole himself. He couldn’t even blame him. Haru was painfully, so painfully willing to take whatever he’d give.
To think a tie more expensive than all Haru owned would be used to tie him dirtily to the frame of the bed, high above his head.
He tugged to test the friction and hummed in approval when the smooth fabric slid against the thin skin of his wrists.
Daisuke’s hands were everywhere: in the dips of his hips, over the bumps of his ribcage and the smooth planes of his legs. He sighed in contentment as two hands squeezed the flesh of his pecs gently before letting blunt nails run the length of his torso down to his navel and beyond, all the way to the inside of his thighs where they stopped to press into the supple flesh.
He groaned. “I-I hate you…” he said, and squirmed when those skillful hands just barely avoided his throbbing cock, “Hurry, jerk…”
“It’s Daisuke,” he said, voice a rasp so deep and soothing Haru could feel its vibrations course through his body and pool in liquid heat in the pit of his stomach.
“Asshole,” he tried saying, but it held no bite when his voice was broken by a pleasured sob.
“What was that?” asked Daisuke, and Haru wanted to simultaneously hit and kiss him.
“Just, hurry…”
“Yes, yes. I heard you.”
He would go insane if he wasn’t touched soon, and luckily for him Daisuke finally complied. Without preamp he wrapped a hand around his cock, wet with lube he hadn’t heard him pour, and started stroking in firm, fast strokes—alternating between circling the tip and squeezing all the way from the top down and up in agonizing, practiced motions.
“D-Daisu—” he tried, but his voice betrayed him. In its stead moans and grunts of blinding pleasure poured out of his open lips. He could feel drool dripping down his chin, and saw stars cloud his vision as a burst of searing hot shot up his spine and he came for the first time that night all over himself.
He breathed heavy, uneven breaths and only dared open his eyes when the stars had disappeared. Instead his gaze fell upon a different night-sky. In Daisuke’s eyes was the reflection of the night-sky outside, and Haru might have thought them gorgeous if it wasn’t for the smug smirk decorating that gorgeous face.
“That one was on the house,” said Daisuke, and greedily licked off a strip of cum running down his thumb.
“Now,” he said in that deep, deep voice that had Haru’s toes curling, “About time we get serious, don’t you think?” he said and slowly, so slowly, started unbuttoning his shirt.
Haru’s vision clouded as each inch of firm chest was presented to him. He let his eyes wander the veins in his forearms and the stretch of fabric over his shoulders. Hungrily took in every muscle as the shirt slowly slid off those broad shoulders. He watched Daisuke’s hands as they came forward to tug on his belt and had to wipe the drool off his chin at the sight of the happy-trail dipping below the waistline of ink-black pants.
What he didn’t expect was for the belt to come off entirely, and for Daisuke to wrap it tightly around his throat.
“I can’t wait to break you,” he whispered in his ear and Haru took a deep, shallow breath against the restraint on his airways.
It wasn’t so tight that he couldn’t breathe, but it was tight enough for his cock to stir back to life.
“My, how eager,” hummed Daisuke and trailed a finger up the sensitive length to the leaking, red tip.
“Dais—” he choked out, “To-ouch me..”
Daisuke watched him quietly from above, long lashes casting shadows on his face.
“Beg for it,” he commanded, “Call me daddy,” he said and leaned in to suck on a perky nipple.
Haru gasped and jerked, humping into nothing, and let out a frustrated groan when the asshole moved away from him.
Daisuke pulled on the belt, choking him harder. “Beg.”
He wouldn’t fall to that. He wouldn’t break so easily, and he’d make damn sure the jerk knew that.
“Make me, dickhead,” he grunted, casting the smug asshole his best stink-eye.
It only served to fuel the bastard, who dipped down between Haru’s legs and began sucking hungrily on the sensitive skin around his cock and balls.
Sucking and biting and licking long, torturous stripes over his skin and then, finally, his balls. Haru could feel himself twitch and drip and could hear the myriad of filthy, filthy noises he was making.
Daisuke, then, decided it best to deal the final blow to Haru’s ego. Something hot and wet pressed flat over his hole and Haru realized then and there that he’d be coming for the second time that night, untouched and writhing in Daisuke’s grasp.
He put both Haru’s legs over his shoulders as he ate him out, sucking and licking and producing these slimy sounds that went straight to Haru’s dick. A tongue breeched the tight entrance of his hole and lapped lazily at his walls, in and out, and Haru once again felt that familiar, electric hum of an orgasm building deep in his gut.
“Dais—Daisuke— Don’t stop, oh God, don’t stop,” he gasped. He could barely recognize his own voice, whiny and high and breathy like he’d been throat fucked and not eaten out.
It was then, just as Haru was about to have the second orgasm of the night that Daisuke threw his legs off and removed himself from Haru entirely.
“Beg,” he repeated as he circled the bed and retrieved from the drawer what looked like a wireless vibrator. “Beg and I’ll give you anything you want,” he said and kneeled back down between Haru’s spread legs.
“Never,” he bit, but he was panting horribly, and when Diasuke pulled on the belt the remainder of heat in his voice died completely. Snuffed out in one breath.
He’d been so, so close—could feel himself throb painfully.
Daisuke took the lube and poured a liberal amount over his fingers and over the toy in his hand and, casting Haru a look that asked for permission, waited for Haru’s que.
He nodded, perhaps a little too eagerly. Not that he would ever admit to it out loud.
As the plastic toy breached his hole, he all but thrust down on it, feeling so empty it hurt. The vibrator was by no means big enough to satisfy, but when Daisuke turned it on Haru could swear he heard the choir of heaven’s angels praising his name.
“How eager,” Daisuke murmured, smirking that devious smirk of his as he upped the intensity on the remote. “I’ll mold you to my liking, Haru.”
He would protest, if it wasn’t for the bursts of pleasure rocking his body every second. His cock throbbed and bounced impatiently between his legs, untouched and red and begging for release.
But Haru wouldn’t beg. He refused to. He refused to…
“Call me daddy,” Daisuke repeated, raising the intensity further.
“N-n-never… unh…”
He hummed and lowered the remote, not bothering to bring down the intensity, and took off what remained of his clothing.
Haru gulped at the outline of his cock in his briefs, thick and long and rock-hard. It strained against the fabric and the tip, wet with precum, looked so inviting.
He took those off, too, and Haru audibly groaned as he watched it bop, heavy and pulsing hot. It was downright mouth-watering, but Haru had a different problem.
Namely his own, neglected cock and the fast approach of something dangerous building in his stomach.
And then, being the devil that he was, Haru watched Daisuke lean back on his hand, spread his knees, and shove a single, long finger into himself. The most beautiful man Haru had ever seen was fingering himself right in front of him; head tipped back to expose a long, unblemished neck, and Haru could do nothing but watch and moan along with Daisuke.
He added a second and third finger after a while, and by the time the fourth joined in on it Haru was bursting at the seams— hips bucking into nothing.
“Shit. You look amazing... Does it feel good?” he whispered.
His voice was broken and barely intelligible, but Daisuke understood—if the way he gazed up at him in a haze, cheeks flushed the faintest pink, was anything to go by.
“I know something that’ll feel even better,” he said and pulled his fingers out of himself.
Daisuke crawled over him, slowly, until he was kneeling above his cock. Thighs glistening with lube and thick cock bobbing in an excitement Haru mirrored.
He swallowed, hard, when Daisuke sunk down on him.
“Daisuke… unh… don’t… move…”
But the devil knew no commands. He rose, slowly, only to drop back down hard and repeated the motion, gasping and moaning his name as he did, and Haru could feel the bubbling heat inside rise and rise again for the third time that night.
“Daisuke, Daisuke…”
His name tasted like honey on his tongue; he never wanted to quit chanting it. Daisuke dove down to kiss and suck on his tongue and lips—leaving marks on his skin and making them swell painfully. With his right hand he tugged the belt around Haru’s neck, hard, and Haru was gone.
Hot, mind-numbing pleasure wracked through him. His toes curled into the velvet beneath them and his nails sunk into the flesh of his palms above his head. He bit down on Daisuke’s lip, who winced and chuckled breathily in response.
He swirled his hips, bringing Haru to the point of overstimulation with the vibrator still inside.
“Daisuke…” he gasped, “Turn the thing off!”
He took the remote, eyed it and then Haru, before turning it up and then down to zero and finally, finally taking it out.
Haru cursed him, but this time in his head, because not a single coherent word could find its way out of his throat then.
He lay there, shaking and sensitive, and thought that would be the end of it, but Daisuke had other plans. He got off, leaving Haru alone on the bed only to return moments later. Haru could feel the dip in the mattress where Daisuke was kneeling between his legs again, and then he felt it.
Something cold and rubbery as it circled the base of his soft, oversensitive cock.
The traitorous thing had the nerve to twitch in interest at the cockring.
“I told you I’d break you, and I think you and me both know I always get what I want,” came Daisuke’s voice from above him. “Now, then,” he said and circled Haru’s hole gently with the tips of his fingers, lubed and slick and so warm.
“Can’t—can’t anym’re…” he murmured to the ceiling, but his hips bucked down on Daisuke’s hand anyway.
“You asked if it felt good earlier. Don’t you wanna know?”
Haru stifled a whimper in his shoulder, biting the sweaty flesh there. The room smelled like sex and Daisuke and the music outside hadn’t stopped. Only built, slowly, to a fast approaching crescendo.
“Y-yes…” he said, feeling his last resolve crack, “Yes!”
Daisuke hummed, “Not exactly begging, but I’ll take it for now, baby,” he said, and the petname went straight to Haru’s cock, now standing at half-mast.
A long, slick finger entered him and circled his walls lazily, building him up again patiently. Minutes of a single finger and Haru was back at full mast, grinding down against the finger inside him. A plea for more was on the tip of his tongue, but he was stubborn and angry and a sore loser.
Daisuke added a second finger, then curled his fingers just so, and Haru’s eyed rolled back at the single shot of scorching pleasure that zapped up his spine and tingled under his skin.
“T-there…!”
The sound of his moans and gasps was the only thing he could hear, music from down the street long numbed to his pleasure-fried brain, and as Daisuke added a third and then fourth finger Haru was certain he’d fall apart at the seams.
“Da-Daisuke… Daisuke…!” he moaned, loud and unfiltered, and could practically hear himself cracking, “Please..! Need—”
“Need what, baby?” he asked and poked that same spot again and again and again.
“Need you! Inside..! Please, Daisuke!”
He seemed unsatisfied, from what little Haru’s hazy vision could tell him, but he complied, nonetheless. In one move he pulled out his fingers and lined up his throbbing cock with Haru’s entrance, drizzling more lube onto it.
“You ready, puppy?” he asked and pulled on the belt around Haru’s neck.
Haru could only nod eagerly, hips rocking up and down in the purest arousal he’d ever felt. He could feel himself throb in the confides of the ring when Daisuke slowly, so slowly, sunk into him.
They both groaned in pleasure, and Haru ground down his hips to fill himself further. To feel the stretch of that cock deep inside of him, so hot and big and perfect.
Daisuke lifted both his legs over his shoulders and pushed down until he was so close Haru could count the blues in his eyes.
He was really thankful for his flexibility in that moment, staring up at a flustered, bothered Daisuke staring down at him like he was the finest meal he’d never have.
Except, maybe he would. Maybe he already owned him, too.
Haru cursed himself and decided then and there, with a cock only barely brushing that special spot inside him, to throw all self-respect out the window.
“D-daddy…” he whispered and felt the burn of a blush rise in his cheeks.
He watched Daisuke’s eyes widen, and his pupils dilate further, and got not a single heads up as the man slammed his hips into him and right onto his g-spot.
Haru’s jaw dropped, and the filthiest noises found their way out. A chorus of his name and daddy and all sorts of filthy, filthy profanities. All the way from the depth of his throat and lungs, they filled the air around them and mingled with the sound of skin slapping on skin.
The cold breeze from outside made goosebumps rise on sweaty skin, and as Daisuke pinched and rubbed a nipple, and tugged on the belt around his neck, Haru lost it.
“Please, daddy, please,” he cried. Felt tears running down his cheeks in hot streaks of pleasure. “Please let me cum! Let me cum, please, daddy!”
Haru had half the mind to mourn the loss of his decency in the second it took Daisuke to hastily remove the cockring and throw it aside when the biggest, best orgasm of his life crawled its way up his spine and burst in colors behind his eyelids.
Every inch of him shook in the shock of it, sensation not waning or giving in the least, and Haru swore it felt like he’d had two orgasms in a row.
“Fuck, yes, unh, yes, daddy!” he whimpered, hands grabbing at nothing above him, and cried out when Daisuke came inside with a low groan.
He could feel his cum drip out of him and down the back of his legs, but he didn’t have the energy to complain. He relaxed into the bed, limbs unmoving and pliant, and listened to Daisuke’s heavy breathing above him.
Daisuke looked as wrecked as he felt; face flushed and hair falling down in front of his eyes. It was a good look on him; made him look youthful and sweet.
“I told you I’d break you,” he said, grinning, and Haru closed his eyes.
Felt sleep overtake as he cursed the smug asshole above him.
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When he woke, it was to the sound of the city traffic outside the open window. The room was cold, window having been left open the whole night, and he burrowed himself further below the velvety blanket.
It was then that he felt Daisuke’s arm around his waist and heard the soft noises of his even breathing.
Haru turned in his embrace, wincing at the pain that shot up his hips when he moved, and blinked blearily at the still sleeping Daisuke—unguarded and stripped off all status for once. He looked pretty like that; black hair fanned out against red velvet, skin golden in the morning sun and face set in utter bliss.
He smelled good, too, and Haru realized that he, too, felt fresh and clean. He was wearing a shirt and nothing else, and from what he could tell based on the thing pressing against his thigh Daisuke wore less than that, but he’d cleaned him. Dressed him. Cared for him.
Haru yawned and nuzzled into Daisuke’s warm embrace—let his nose rest against his collarbone and his hands against his chest.
Daisuke stirred a little, and tightened his grip around him, and like that Haru fell asleep again.
Drowned in the softest velvet.
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Since I kissed his loving lips of wine
The thing that bothers me is that I like it fine
Hey, set me free
Stupid Cupid stop picking on me