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“I didn’t say you could stop.”
With great effort, Rain drags his head off Swiss’s shoulder to look him in the eyes. Of all the things Swiss could have said, he’ll admit that wasn’t one he’d expected. “I—”
Swiss grabs his chin, tipping his drooping head up. “I haven’t cum, have I? Why’d you stop?”
Rain gulps. Swiss doesn’t sound angry, but he definitely isn’t messing around. Definitely isn’t joking.
And Rain’s exhausted. Twice now he’s spilled hot and sticky onto Swiss’s stomach, rutting against him until his cock was chafed and tender, too wound up to last any longer. As if he could ever outlast Swiss’s stamina.
He didn’t think this through.
“Get on with it,” Swiss says, and gives a shallow thrust up into Rain’s still-clenching hole. Like whipping a horse to make it go faster, or something along those lines. It has the opposite effect, though—Rain whines, tries to lift himself up and off Swiss’s cock, but Swiss’s hands are on his hips to pull him back down before he even gets halfway. That earns him a distressing jab to the prostate, and he cries out so loudly that Swiss rolls his eyes.
So he’s stuck. Rock, hard place. Either he keeps riding Swiss like he’s supposed to and cries through the painful overstimulation, or doesn’t and cries through the punishment Swiss will dish out for him later. The latter, in his experience, will be far worse.
“Give me a second,” Rain whispers shakily. Very shakily.
Swiss smiles, patronising. He mimes looking at a wristwatch. “Alright. There’s your second. Time’s up, get moving.” He rocks up again, and this time Rain doesn’t try to get away, just shuts his eyes tight and bears it.
“Please, Swiss.”
“What the hell do you want?”
“Can I—” He cuts himself off. It sounds stupid when he puts it into words. “Can I have a break? Please?”
Swiss laughs out loud. “Absolutely not. Don’t be such a baby. You can have a break once you make me cum.”
He’s being so mean, and Rain doesn’t understand why. It had been Swiss who’d taken him by the arm after dinner and led him sweetly into his room. It had been Swiss who’d said let me take care of you and dropped to his knees the second the door was closed, and all Rain could do was smile and nod and pretend he wasn’t a little bit surprised.
It had only been a matter of time before he was moaning into Swiss’s mouth, pinned under the warm weight of Swiss’s body. When he’d asked can I ride you? and when Swiss had smiled and rolled them over with a gentleness unrivalled by Mountain on his best days, this wasn’t what Rain had had in mind.
But he tries. Satan curse him, he tries. He plants his hands on Swiss’s chest and gives a tentative roll of his hips, and when it hurts just as bad as he expected it to, he grits his teeth and does it again. Once more after that, and another when his thighs start to cramp up, but the burning oversensitivity is getting worse rather than better, and the disappointment written all over Swiss’s face only adds to the blow.
“I’m sorry,” he whines, clinging onto Swiss with numb fingers. “I’m trying. I just need a moment. I’m sorry, fuck please don’t move, I’m trying, I swear.”
Exhausted, he collapses against Swiss’s chest and buries his face in his neck. He’s shaking, and sobbing like a kit, and it’s embarrassing because Swiss hasn’t even cum yet and he’s so pathetic he can’t get himself together to give as good as he’s gotten.
Swiss doesn’t say a word. He holds Rain by the waist and squeezes like he’s trying to reassure him, but it feels more impatient than genuine. His cock is as hard as ever and Rain can feel every inch inside him, a cruel reminder that he isn't done, but the more he thinks about it the more he wants to break down.
“Crying isn’t going to fix anything,” Swiss says quietly. “Get up.”
It’s worse, the fact that Swiss isn’t moving. Worse than if he’d just grabbed Rain’s hips and used him like that, and Rain can’t for the life of him figure out why Swiss hasn’t already snapped. He certainly seems to be in the mood.
“It hurts,” Rain whispers.
“I couldn’t give less of a shit,” Swiss replies candidly. “Ten seconds. If you don’t start moving, I’ll make it hurt more. Ten.” He gets a hand on Rain’s oversensitive cock, the threat suddenly tangible and very, very real. “Nine.”
“Please,” Rain begs, desperate now.
“—even. Six. Five.”
With a choked sob, Rain grabs Swiss’s shoulders and lifts himself up, enough to let Swiss’s cock slip out a little, before sinking back down to the hilt. The pressure sets his nerves alight, the tight ache in his thighs coming back full force, but Swiss is at three now, and he doesn’t want to take any risks.
“Again,” Swiss says smoothly.
Rain makes the mistake of shaking his head.
Swiss thumbs over the head of his soft cock, digs a finger into his frenulum, jacks it a few times. Cruel. Enough that Rain curls into himself and shudders so hard he almost headbutts Swiss in the face.
“I can’t,” Rain sobs. “I can’t cum again.”
He really didn’t think this though.
Swiss scoffs. The level headedness is gone now, replaced with something more akin to disdain. “Who said anything about cumming again? You think this is for you?” He pinches a nipple, twists it. Does the same on the other side. “I haven’t cum yet, have I? Think you get to be fucking greedy and get away with it?”
Rain rocks his hips forward automatically, scared now. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“Shut up.” Swiss raises his hand, and Rain knows the slap is coming a half-second before it happens, but it stings all the same when it lands. “Fucking tell me. Is that what you think?” He slaps Rain again, harder. Grabs his throat, squeezes so hard his vision starts to swim. “Look at me. Look at me when I’m talking to you.”
Rain can’t, and doesn’t. It takes another too-long moment to recover from the slap, his cheek stinging to high hell, and the choking is making his head feel heavy.
He must have slipped offline for a second. Next thing he knows, Swiss is grabbing a nasty fistful of his hair and yanking his head up. “None of that,” he scolds. “You asked for this, remember?”
“Yeah,” Rain hiccups. “Sorry.”
“You’d better be.”
Rain closes his eyes, trying to get those stupid weepy hiccups under check. He doesn’t like Swiss seeing him cry. Which is funny and maybe a little bit sad, because he certainly doesn’t mind Swiss making him cry.
‘I can’t,” he whimpers. “Hurts. Need you to—why can’t you just fuck me?” He’s only rising and dropping back down on Swiss’s cock now, too exhausted and overstimulated to grind or—Satan forbid—bounce. “I can take it if you fuck me, I just can’t—” His breath catches when Swiss fucks up into him, teasing. “Swiss. No no no, please—”
Swiss twists Rain’s hair around his fingers, his hold firm. “You asked to ride, Rainy. I’m letting you do that.”
Rain shakes his head. It’s all he can do. He’s trying to move without letting his cock brush against Swiss’s stomach, but the effort of doing so puts a strain on his back, and it’s starting to ache too. He can’t bear to look at Swiss, at that expression of faux-pity or the badly concealed amusement written all over his face, so he closes his eyes and lets his chin drop to his chest. He feels himself sinking.
“Not so bad, is it?” Swiss implores, petting over his hair, tucking it behind the pointed tip of his ear. “Look at you, being so good. So well-behaved.” He strokes Rain’s cheek, the pad of a thumb rubbing back and forth across his cheekbone. Soothing. Rain leans into it like a cat.
It is that bad, actually. Lucifer, he must be a mess. Sweaty, pressed up against Swiss like he is, and it’s making his hair stick to his forehead and the sides of his face. He blinks and his cheeks feel hot, be it from embarrassment or exertion or the slap Swiss dealt him. He’s sure he looks disgusting, but Swiss is gazing at him with nothing short of adoration—he’s a sadist like that—and it’s such a welcome reprieve from the earlier disappointment that Rain doesn’t have the mental capacity to care.
“Are you close?” he asks, hoping he doesn’t sound too desperate.
Swiss leans back against the headboard and puts his hands behind his head, a classic smirk playing out across his too-smug face. His biceps are on full display like this, and if Rain were a weaker ghoul he probably wouldn’t be able to resist the temptation to reach out and touch them.
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Swiss says, sounding far too easygoing for Rain’s liking. Light-stroll-in-the-park kind of easygoing. “If you moved a little faster I’d be closer.”
Rain sniffles. “You’re being so mean.”
“I’m being quite reasonable. Don’t pout, Rainy. Won’t work on me.” He pulls Rain in for a kiss, squeezing the back of his neck, smiling against his lips, and presses the palm of his other hand against the small of Rain’s back, coaxing him into a slow grind.
“Fuck!” Rain gasps.
“Yeah, fuck, that’s a good angle,” Swiss croons. “Just like that, Rainy.”
Said angle has Rain’s cock rubbing right up against Swiss’s stomach. Forward and backward. Ebb and flow. Rain moans, not entirely with pleasure, and Swiss takes the opportunity to lick into his mouth.
It’s so humiliating, not only that he doesn’t have the brainpower to kiss back, but that he can’t even give Swiss what he wants, and what he wants isn’t even a lot. He wants to beg Swiss to let him use his mouth instead, or toss him onto his back and fuck him any way he wants, but Swiss would probably just laugh and tell him to stop whining. He whimpers again, clenches down on Swiss’s cock. Tries to ignore his body screaming at him to rest.
“That’s good,” Swiss breathes, and Rain grinds a little harder, a little faster, because Satan forbid Swiss changes his mind. “Better not stop now. You’re not getting up until I cum.”