Work Text:
Hajime tries to calm himself down with slow, deep breaths.
He can’t move. He lies face-down on the bed, a stack of pillows keeping his hips lifted. Despite the chill in the air, a layer of sweat covers his bare body, soaking the cotton towels spread out beneath him. His arms are pulled up towards the headboard, legs spread apart. Thick roots wrap tightly around his limbs, the bark on them smooth yet dry, causing just enough discomfort to stop him from squirming but not enough to tear at his skin.
If he forces himself to focus, he can see exactly where on the bed frame the wood has bent to obey Toru's command, growing out of its polished straight lines to hold him down. They taper off into hair-like roots, the material thin and soft, blending into an off-white shade and ticklish where they weave between the hair of his arms, adhering to his skin well. His tan skin blooms red around the larger, dark umber roots, the flesh tender where he’s bound. His bindings are strong, curling up to his elbows and knees. They hold on fast, force him to stay put, and do not give way no matter how much he struggles.
He shakes with the effort of taking a deep breath as four of Toru’s long fingers slowly pump in and out of his hole.
Hajime doesn’t need to look back to know how Toru looks, doesn’t bother turning his head to peek at their reflections in the mirror propped up against the wall. He knows that Toru is sitting in the space between his spread legs, still fully-dressed after a long day at work, the sleeves of his shirt folded back. He knows Toru still has his glasses on, and that there’s a weight on Hajime’s lower back in the shape of Toru’s tablet. He knows that Toru isn’t looking at him, barely paying attention to him in fact, using his left hand to finger Hajime while his right mindlessly twirls a stylus pen.
He knows all of this because Toru is busy, more immersed in reading an article on his tablet and occasionally highlighting text and writing notes, than he is in actually pleasuring Hajime.
And Hajime does not need to look behind him to know all of this because he’s had more than enough time to feel everything, hear everything. He’s aware of every instance of Toru pushing his glasses up, the feeling of Toru’s slacks against the sensitive skin of his thighs, the quiet hum Toru makes whenever he comes upon something interesting in the text.
This far in, Hajime is well acquainted with the extent of Toru’s disinterest. He feels the tablet tip as Toru writes a long annotation on the article, his other hand pausing with his fingers pressed deep inside Hajime. He waits with bated breath for Toru to finish.
Just as his body begins to shake, Toru leans back with a sigh of his own and resumes the movement of his fingers. The tablet settles back into place.
Hajime can imagine how he looks right now, doesn’t dare turn and check himself in the mirror. This position, his restraints, the mere state of him – these are all already degrading enough, what more in comparison to Toru?
He can see it clearly. Toru, the perfect image of cold and detached, fully dressed and barely a hair out of place, weary from work but no less driven to finish his task, his sharp gaze aimed entirely on the screen. And underneath him, Hajime, his body nothing more than a surface to rest a tablet on, restraints and the barest bit of stimulation enough to reduce him into useless weight on Toru’s bed.
Hajime whines, embarrassed, and tries to hide his face into his arms. He can’t. The roots around his arms keep him in position and his face smashes into a pillow. He groans.
Toru falls still behind him.
“Hajime.”
He freezes, a shudder running down his spine. “Fuck, sorry, I’m sorry– Please, I–”
Toru interrupts him. “Shh, angel. Breathe.” He drops the stylus on the crumpled sheets before pressing his calloused fingers into the tense muscles of Hajime’s back. “What happened? You were doing so well, just now. I even got to page 10. Are you…” He sighs. “Don’t tell me you’re close.” The underlying threat is acidic, and Hajime’s stomach churns. “I’m not even halfway done.”
“I–” Hajime shakes his head and shifts, uneasy. “Y-You… How much longer? I just–”
I want more, he wants to say, but he holds back on the last second. Toru wouldn’t like that.
Regardless, Toru must not like his question. He does not give Hajime an answer. He exhales, clearly irritated, and the movement of his left hand starts up again, the precision and speed not much improved from earlier.
“Toru, please…”
Toru fixes the tablet straight, jostled by Hajime’s squirming, and picks his stylus up again. He takes a deep breath, pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, and keeps reading.
“Baby–”
“We agreed on one article, didn’t we?” Toru snaps. He doesn’t raise his voice, but Hajime still flinches. “How can you expect me to finish when you can’t even stay still? Actually, how long do you think it takes to read a research article, hm? Tell me.”
Toru gives him time to answer, lifting a brow when the silence only stretches. Toru says nothing for so long, still expectant despite his growing disappointment, and so quickly does Hajime feel ashamed for being the cause of such an emotion. He hides his face again, tries to turn his body away from Toru’s scrutiny.
“Hajime…” Toru shakes his head and turns back to his tablet. “Even if you won’t give me an answer, we both know that I still have so much work to do. This article is nowhere near the last thing that I need to get done, but I can barely put a dent in it because of you. I still need to review that presentation I’m giving tomorrow, too, and I’m not particularly interested in doing a horrible job and letting everyone down just because you’re desperate for attention. I actually have to stick with the deals I make with other people, you know. Did you consider that? I can’t just suddenly go back on my word last minute, just because I felt like it. Like you can.” The accusation drips with venom even with Toru’s level tone. He laughs bitterly, and Hajime’s jaw tightens. “Really, if you can’t wait for another day like you were supposed to, then you’re in no position to make any demands whatsoever.
“And if you can’t shut your mouth and wait like a good boy, I can always just kick you out. Do you understand, angel?”
Hajime grits his teeth. Then he nods, mutters a ‘yes, Toru,’ and falls limp against his restraints.
Because Toru's right. The agreement was one full week, no intimacy and minimal contact. Toru had to prepare for the new semester, and he needed to focus on setting up and making sure his students were actually enrolled for the right classes. Toru knew, they both knew, that he would have just gotten distracted if he had Hajime around. He knew he could never resist him, then cuddling would turn into a kiss, would turn into making out, would turn into heavy petting, would turn into fucking.
So, when he asked for one week apart, Hajime readily agreed. Toru warded up his apartment to dissuade Hajime from going anywhere near it, limited them to two kisses in the morning and another two in the evening, then promised so sweetly to do anything he wanted the moment the week was up.
It’s Friday today. Their agreement would have ended tomorrow, after Toru was finished with the last of his meetings.
And Hajime couldn’t bear to wait for one more day.
He wasn’t intrinsically bound to his word like Toru was, and the wards were weak, just asking to be torn down. If Toru truly wanted him out, he should have used something stronger, something that didn’t just put a bitter taste in Hajime’s mouth and make him a little dizzy. Dispelling them was easy. Breaking into Toru’s apartment with his spare key was even easier.
Hajime left a trail of pheromones all the way to his bedroom. There, he watched the clock tick closer and closer into the evening, waiting until he heard the front door open, felt the temperature in the apartment drop, and heard Toru’s little ‘Hajime?’ echoing down the hall before he popped a magic suppressant pill into his mouth.
Really, he brought this all upon himself.
In the back of his mind Hajime knows that all of this is purposeful, that Toru is doing all of this because he wants Hajime to break, wants to teach him a lesson. If he truly was busy, Toru could have said no and kicked Hajime out, and that would have been the end of it. The fact that he let Hajime stay, agreed to fuck Hajime so long as he’s patient and lets him finish one article, but then chose to draw the whole thing out like this – it gives Hajime the impression that he’s not actually focused on his reading like he says he is.
Hajime finally turns his head to look at Toru in the mirror, and finds him as perfect as ever with just a bit of sweat dotting his forehead. Through glassy eyes, he observes, searching for Toru’s usual tells, the signs that he’s close to breaking. He bears each excruciatingly slow second, waiting and hoping that in the next moment Toru will finally look up and tell him that he’s done.
But Toru does not do as Hajime wants. Instead, he mutters under his breath, brows furrowed in confusion. He sits back, a small pout on his lips, and tries to process what he has just read. He puts the tip of his stylus onto the tablet screen and writes a long note, only to hit the undo button and start over again. He keeps reading, keeps ignoring Hajime, and through it all Hajime is keenly aware of the way Toru’s left hand has gotten more and more uncoordinated. His fingers keep catching along his rim, dragging unsatisfactorily along his walls, even falling to a complete stop twice. It doesn’t feel good, stopped feeling good the moment Hajime stopped complaining, but what can he do about it? Toru is busy. He has work to do, and he has already warned him once. Hajime doesn’t want to disappoint him twice in one night.
If this were any other situation, he’d make a fuss about it, grind down on Toru’s fingers and demand that he get a move on without a care for the consequences. But Hajime sees him push up his glasses, feels the way the tablet digs into his back, and he realizes that since Toru went back to reading, not once has he spared Hajime another glance.
He’s painfully reminded of where he is, how at this very moment he is nothing but an afterthought. If Toru can effortlessly ignore, silence, and restrain him, what makes Hajime think he can demand anything from him?
Hajime turns away. He bites down on the pillow, curling his hands into fists and gasping whenever Toru’s fingers happen to brush against his prostate.
Like this, it's easier to take what little is given to him, to settle into the idea that in this very moment, Toru is fingering him as a courtesy. That he only played along and compromised. Because Toru can’t refuse him, nor can he give him what he wants. It's easier to take it as it is, to ignore the fact that he wants more, that he could be given more. He forgets every single complaint the longer he goes without voicing them, all of his thoughts coalescing into indecipherable noise. Like this, he can lose himself in the lazy drag of Toru's fingers inside him and the feeling of the roots holding him down, and focus on just that and nothing more.
He doesn’t know how much time passes. It takes him a while to realize that the weight on his back has lifted, that Toru has taken his tablet away and set it on the floor.
He whines deep from his chest when Toru pulls his fingers out. Hajime blinks, bleary and lost for a moment. His chin is wet with spit, and he moves to wipe it.
Pressure prevents his arm from moving. He is reminded of where he is.
He drops his head. “Fuck…”
Toru trails kisses up his spine, making Hajime shiver and arch his back. “You're so well-behaved tonight,” Toru muses, voice so hushed they feel like puffs of breath on Hajime’s fevered skin. “So quiet. No complaining. Little struggling.” Hajime can just barely hear a hint of awe in his voice.
“Look at me.” Toru leans over to peer closely at him and his fingers lightly press into Hajime’s jaw. Easily obeying, Hajime turns to look, his breath catching when he finds Toru so near. His vision takes a moment to adjust, but he manages to meet Toru’s gaze, not willing to say nor do anything as Toru scans his face.
Toru says nothing for a long moment, his thumb gently caressing Hajime’s cheek. Ultimately, he smiles, apparently having found what he was looking for. He leans forward and gives him a short, sweet kiss. Hajime sighs with relief.
“Good boy.”
Hajime swallows thickly. “Did you finish?”
“Mm-hm. All thanks to you.”
Doubt flashes in Hajime, and instinct pushes him to search for any hint of sarcasm in Toru’s voice, but he drops that line of thinking as soon as Toru pushes himself up to his knees. Hajime tries to follow and keep his eyes on him, turning his head as far as his body would allow. He ends up pulling a muscle, and he drops his head with a pained groan.
“Did I scare you there for a moment?” Toru asks. He shuffles close until his hips press flush with Hajime’s, a stuttered moan falling from Toru’s lips as he grinds his clothed erection right over Hajime’s hole. “You knew what you were getting yourself into. Can’t really blame me if it’s all your fault, right?” His hands come up to trace the curves of Hajime’s back, up his arms, before circling back and finally resting on his nape. He gives it a quick squeeze, pushing down for just a second.
“Ah, but you really have earned your reward,” Toru says with a pout. “I was so hoping you’d be more of a brat tonight so I’d have an excuse to be even meaner.”
Slowly, he begins drawing lines along the dip of Hajime’s spine. Down, then up, then down again.
Hajime shivers, hands balling up into fists. He struggles to find his voice at first, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly. “Toru–” he finally croaks, unable to muster anything louder. “Please…” He pulls even more desperately at his restraints.
Toru hums like he didn't hear him. He spreads his hands over Hajime’s lower back. “Ah, but I really do love having you like this. The prettiest angel, all mine to play with. I’m sure you’ll forgive me if I draw this out a little bit longer, right?” He catches Hajime watching him in the mirror and smiles. “You can take it, I know you can.”
“No…” Hajime fervently shakes his head. “No, I’ll do anything, anything you want, just please– Please fuck me–”
“Aw, what? But you were doing so well, too.”
Hajime’s close to tears, still shaking his head. “Please, please, please– I need you–”
He barely hears Toru’s laugh, only shocked to silence when he feels Toru lean over him again, feels Toru’s lips brush against his ear.
“You poor thing,” he coos, arms wrapped around Hajime’s middle, squeezing him. “It’s such a shame you’d tap out so soon, but I suppose it can’t be helped. We can always save it for next time, right?”
Hajime turns to try and steal a kiss, but Toru pulls back in time, far enough that he’s out of reach.
Toru’s smile is small, toeing the line between genuine and mocking. “Anything I want?”
Hajime frowns, lost for a second, before he nods.
“Promise?”
“Yes. Anything.”
Toru’s voice dips lower as he stares Hajime down. “Don’t disappoint me again. Got that?”
“...I won’t.”
“Good boy.”
Toru pulls away, out of his line of sight, and Hajime slouches as soon as he’s gone, taking shaky deep breaths as he focuses on Toru’s reflection in the mirror. Toru’s entire front is soaked, the material of his white work shirt made translucent by a mixture of excess lube and their combined sweat. Toru pops open the button of his slacks and pulls the zipper down, but makes no move to strip, simply pulling his dick out with a low groan. Hajime’s breath catches as he follows the movement of Toru’s thumb swiping over the weeping tip, tracing the shudder it pulls from him.
Toru jerks himself off. He makes a show of it, first slowly fucking his fist then gradually building up speed as he gets more and more worked up. The dripping head of his cock brushes against the curve of Hajime’s ass, smearing it with precum. Toru takes another shaky breath and rests a hand on the small of Hajime’s back, letting precum drip right into Hajime’s hole, pushing the tip in but pulling back when he feels Hajime clench.
Hajime growls when he hears Toru laugh at him. He opens his mouth to complain, only to cut off with a whine as Toru’s hand crawls up his spine, fingers threading through Hajime’s hair. “Ah…”
Toru shoves his head down, firm enough to squish his cheek flat against the pillow beneath him.
“Mmph–” Hajime’s eyes flutter, his breath coming out in a sigh. “Shit– Please–”
Toru pushes down on Hajime’s head again, rutting against his ass. “Fuck…” he rasps, his nails digging into the skin of Hajime’s scalp and cheek. “One more time. Beg for me one more time, Hajime, and I’ll give you what you want.”
Hajime’s mouth moves faster than his brain, desperate to please. “Fuck– I… M'sorry for breakin' our deal, just wanted to see you so bad, missed you, I– Just–” He gasps for air, pulls on his restraints. “Please, please, please, fuck me? I just want you so bad. I need you. Need your cock, I m–missed you so– so bad, Toru–”
“That’s it,” Toru says. “So perfect. My perfect, pretty little angel.”
Hajime moans at the praise, eyes fluttering shut, and fighting against every bit of his desire to rut against the pillows under him.
Then Toru is pressing the fat head of his cock against his rim and pushing in so, so slowly. Hajime freezes, mouth falling open as Toru fills him, focusing only on the feeling of Toru inside, hot and heavy and tight.
Behind him, Toru gives a loud groan. He squeezes Hajime’s hip once and sharply thrusts the final few inches of his cock inside.
Hajime’s eyes roll to the back of his head. “Fuuuuuucckkkk…”
Toru pets up the length of Hajime’s back with his free hand, then grips his shoulder. “Good?”
A shudder wracks through Hajime’s body. He has spent the last hour pent up and trembling with his dick leaking heavily into the sheets. He’s lucky he didn’t cum just from Toru putting it in.
Hajime whines as Toru starts rocking in and out. “M’not… Not gonna last.”
Toru barks a laugh, and pushes down on his head more firmly. “Be good and stay still then.” He pulls out, then rams right in.
“Ghh– F–Fuck…” Hajime barely has time to react as Toru starts fucking into him hard and fast, his pace punishing. “Hah– gods, w-wait– Fuck!” He can’t fucking move but he still writhes against his restraints, moans spilling freely from his parted lips. “Sh–Shit– Ah, please, please–”
The noises alone are obscene; the slick sounds of Toru thrusting in and out, wet skin dully slapping against cloth, the wood of the bedframe and Hajime’s restraints creaking loudly. Before, his thoughts were overrun with noise, now he’s stopped thinking completely, all manner of thought cut short as he’s fucked into the sheets, and with his magic stifled by the suppressant, he can’t sense Toru’s pleasure nor is he hungry for it, forcing him to focus on nothing but how good he feels right now, how Toru feels so, so good, so perfect inside him, fucking him the way he’s craved in their time apart.
Toru is unrelenting, digging his knees deeper into the mattress to properly mount Hajime. “That’s it– You’re doing so well, Hajime, taking me – shit – taking me so fucking well.” He mewls as Hajime clenches around him. “Gods, you’re so so good, Haji. Such a good boy, my perfect Hajime–”
“Guh– gonna cum, I– I–” Hajime keens as Toru keeps pounding into him, his grip on Hajime’s shoulder bruising. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m–!” He groans, long and low as he cums into the pillows beneath him. Toru fucks him through it, does not even slow down. “Toru–” Hajime flexes his hands and pulls at his restraints. “Come on, please, I– Fuck, I, I need it.”
Toru bends down and presses a wet kiss to Hajime’s temple. “M’close. Can I–”
“Yes! Fuck!”
Toru cums, his hips bucking forward and driving his cock in deep as he spills inside Hajime. He groans into Hajime’s ear, his entire body shaking, and he eases his hand off of the back of Hajime’s head. He wraps his arms around Hajime’s torso, clinging to him. “Fuck…”
Hajime gives a quiet moan, cursing as he feels Toru’s cum spread inside him. Without his magic to let him feed, his entire body falls slack. Toru clumsily drops his weight on Hajime’s back, squishing him flat onto the bed. Hajime, boneless, does not do so much as grumble at him for being heavy.
Hajime doesn’t register the next minute or two, his senses muted by exhaustion. Uncharacteristically tired, he sinks heavily into the sheets, already dozing off even with Toru lying on top of him. He jolts awake a minute later, when Toru pulls out and slides a small metal plug in to keep Hajime stretched open. Toru frees Hajime's arms next, the same roots that had been limiting his movement now slithering down his body and carefully flipping him over so he can lie on his back. Once he's settled, they recede back into the bed frame. Toru makes no move to remove the ones around his legs, keeping them bound with the roots there folded over each other.
Toru sits on his heels beside Hajime, alternating between massaging Hajime’s arms and trailing his fingers over the dark, swirling marks on his skin. His glasses are askew, his clothes stained and crumpled, the skin from his cheeks down to his exposed collarbones is flushed red with exertion, and his hair's a mess. Despite all of this, his clothes are still mostly in place, and Hajime can almost imagine Toru just quickly wiping himself clean and zipping everything up, before proceeding to get back to work.
The thought instantly makes Hajime reach for him, and Toru’s eyes shine with amusement when he leans down to kiss Hajime's forehead.
“Toru,” Hajime whispers, feebly grabbing onto the collar of Toru’s shirt, pulling him down and finally catching his lips in a kiss, uncaring about the way Toru’s glasses press uncomfortably against his nose and cheeks. He doesn’t let go when Toru tries to lean back and silences Toru’s amused laugh by pulling him down for another kiss. And another. And another.
Toru easily unfurls Hajime’s grasp, easing his complaints by kissing the tips of each finger before pinning his wrist into the mattress. He crawls over to straddle him, trails kisses down Hajime’s jaw, down his throat, his collarbones, and over his chest, his free hand tracing dizzying lines over the sensitive skin of his hip.
“Toru…” he says with a warning edge as Toru flicks his tongue over one nipple right before he playfully digs his teeth into the firm flesh of Hajime’s chest. Hajime threads his fingers through Toru’s hair and gives it a light tug. “What–”
Toru chooses that moment to wrap his lips around Hajime’s nipple and suck, shooting a glance up at Hajime through his lashes. He lets go after he feels Hajime’s breath hitch, going back to planting soft kisses all over his chest.
“One more?” Toru asks, lips to Hajime’s clavicle, using that deceptively sweet tone of his, the one Hajime can never say no to. “Won’t you be good and give me one more? You can do that, can’t you?”
Hajime shuts his eyes, a short reprieve from meeting Toru’s piercing gaze, and tries to clear his head. They started around an hour ago, and he's already exhausted. The other times that they've gone for several rounds, he'd always had his magic to rely on, but now he is without it. He has nothing to let him feed and replenish his energy, nothing to help him recover.
But he wants to be good for Toru. He wants to fulfill his end of the deal, to give Toru anything he asks of him. Despite everything he’s already been given tonight, Hajime still wants more of him, wants everything Toru has to give him, wants to wring this moment for every bit of Toru’s love and attention. Hajime missed him. It’s only natural that he’d get this clingy.
“It’s gonna hurt,” Hajime says warily, even as he’s leaning into Toru’s touch.
Toru calmly presses a kiss to Hajime’s sternum. “It won’t hurt, baby,” he says, so adamantly as if he were just stating a fact. “I’ll make sure it won’t. You’re such a perfect little thing, why would I want to hurt you any more than I already have? You’ve been through so, so much already. You took your punishment so well, and you even sacrificed your own magic for me, went through the trouble of starving yourself even though I know you’ve been dying for a taste.”
Even with eyes blown black with lust, the look Toru gives him is calculating and careful. “I promise it won’t hurt. I’ll make you feel good, so good, only the best for my Hajime.”
Hajime’s breath catches, and he feels those words as they are whispered right over his racing heart. Infused with magic, they seep into his skin, into marrow and soft tissue. He shivers as a cold flash runs through his, body and groans when the soreness and the starting pinpricks of pain and overstimulation all fade away. The chill dissipates just as quickly as it had come, and his blood immediately runs hot again, his pulse thundering.
“Hajime?”
“Yes,” he rasps, bites the corner of Toru’s mouth. “Please.”
He gasps as Toru grinds a clothed thigh against his cock, moaning softly and thrusting his hips up into Toru’s touch, cursing when he feels himself already growing hard again.
Toru’s words ring true – there is no pain under his touch, only pure unfiltered pleasure.
And it’s so good, so right, and Hajime is already surrendering to it, to Toru. He wants so badly to give back, to touch Toru and make him feel good too, but his body does not cooperate, exhaustion still wearing his limbs down. Toru’s magic had only taken away the pain – it did nothing to fix his fatigue. His fingers tremble when he tries to unbutton Toru’s shirt. Toru quickly, easily, catches his wrists and pins them down. He hovers above Hajime and commands him to stay put, squeezing his wrists for emphasis. Amusement flashes in his eyes when Hajime obeys.
“You don’t have to do anything, my love. Just let me make you feel good,” Toru soothes, lips brushing against Hajime’s. “I promise I’ll make you feel good, to make up for lost time. You’ve worked so hard, been so patient and good for me. You said I could do anything I wanted, so let me, okay?”
Hajime gives a breathless chuckle. “You’re spoiling me.”
“I am,” Toru says softly, earnest. “I said I’d spoil you when the week’s up. Might as well do it now while you’re here.” He gives a low hum, pleased, when Hajime pushes himself up to claim his mouth in a languid kiss.
Pressing himself as close to Hajime as possible, Toru pulls the plug out and tosses it somewhere on the bed, immediately stuffing Hajime with three fingers and pushing his cum back in. Hajime is pliant, moaning softly when Toru guides his cock in again. Toru swears under his breath at how easily Hajime’s hole sucks him in. He’s so wet, the mix of lube and cum making a disgustingly loud squelch when Toru bottoms out.
“Love,” he breathes, eyes glued to Hajime’s face, at his slack jaw and glassy eyes, and feeling the way Hajime’s hole clenches weakly around him. He grins crookedly, bending down to kiss Hajime between his eyebrows. “Hajime. Can I…?”
“Fuck, please.”
Toru, forever bound to every word he utters, makes good on his promise. It does not hurt when he starts moving, and he grips onto Hajime’s hips hard, fucking into him slowly, making him feel every inch of him.
Hajime’s body instinctively seizes up, still not used to being this vulnerable without his magic. No matter how long they’ve been experimenting in combining his suppressants with Toru’s magic, he still can’t wrap his head around how quickly his own body adapts to Toru’s command. He’s obsessed with it, obsessed with how his body can do nothing but obey Toru’s words, how nothing, not even his exhaustion, can dull the pure pleasure he’s feeling now, and how he can just focus on how good Toru is to him, the combination of the suppressant’s effects and his magic allowing Hajime to experience all of this.
It’s intoxicating.
He’s not the only one affected by it. Toru picks up speed, grows more desperate, even more so with the bits of encouragement he finds in Hajime – the way he won’t let go of Toru, the way he can’t stop making these sweet little moans. It’s filthy, the wet sounds of Toru’s hips slapping against his ass, their skin soaked and dripping with lube and sweat and cum.
“Toru…” Hajime groans, throwing his head back when Toru grinds his cock deep. He digs his nails into Toru’s back. “Hah… Please, I– F–Fuck– Touch, touch me?”
Toru pecks the shell of his ear, reaches between them to wrap a hand around Hajime’s neglected cock and pumps him in time to his thrusts. “Angel,” he coos, glancing down. “Fuck, look at you. You’re all red and wet, Haji. Being fucked isn’t enough for you, huh? Need your cock played with, too?”
Hajime whimpers, rolling his hips up and fucking into Toru’s palm. “H–Hah, nnghh–!” He grunts as the roots around his ankles make themselves known, pulling his legs down and stopping all movement from the waist down. “Gods, please–” he cuts off with a whine as Toru begins to fuck into him harder, his hand matching his pace. “Ah, fuck fuck fuck…”
Toru mouths over Hajime’s throat. “Don’t you worry,” he says between harsh pants. “I’ll be sure to give my Hajime all the love he deserves.”
He presses his cheek against Toru’s hair, eyes fluttering shut. Hajime can’t do anything but cling onto him, having just enough strength to wrap his arms tight around Toru’s shoulders, muffling every grunt and moan into Toru’s hair. “Ahhh… Hah, hah, don’t… don’t stop.” Hajime throws his head back, groaning low in his throat, as Toru grazes his teeth over his throat. “Sh–Shit, I, I– gods, you’re so fucking good to me, baby. So, so…”
It’s becoming harder and harder to think straight with each passing second, to do anything other than feel the way Toru’s cock splits him open, feel how good Toru is making him feel. Harder and harder to say anything that isn’t a moan or a whine or some broken version of Toru’s name. His vision is blurry, unable to see anything other than the man right in front of him.
It takes him a second to realize Toru is talking, murmuring more praise and promises into Hajime’s neck, pooling magic into his skin.
Hajime sighs. Clammy fingers curl under Toru’s chin and around his nape, and he sees confusion flash on Toru’s face for a split second before Hajime’s pulling him up for a kiss. Toru gives a surprised hum, his entire body stuttering for a second before he melts into Hajime, tilting his head to deepen the kiss.
Fuck, he’s missed this.
“So good, Hajime,” Toru breathes against his lips. “Feel so good, so fucking hot, so perfect for me.” He laughs when he gets pulled down for another kiss, but it isn’t long until he’s moaning into Hajime’s mouth and, in turn, wringing sweet little sounds from Hajime as his hips pound into him faster and faster.
Toru pulls away with a gasp, shuddering, and drops his forehead on Hajime’s, the pair of them panting into each other's open mouths. "Close.”
Before Hajime can react, Toru is out of his grasp, pushing himself up and sitting on his heels. Toru lets go of Hajime’s leaking cock to clamp both hands around the man’s waist, dragging him up on his lap. Hajime groans, a little disoriented. His arms flop uselessly to the bed. “Wait a sec– Hmph–” He chokes on an exhale as Toru pushes back in, the new angle letting him rub harder against Hajime’s prostate with each thrust. “Hah–ah…! Toru–!”
Bleeding desperation, Toru pumps his dick in with shallow and fast thrusts. He fights a shudder of his own, slips his trembling fingers through the small space between root and the skin of Hajime’s thighs, and grabs hard at the tough plant material to pull Hajime down on his dick.
Toru’s a sight to behold when he gets like this, chest heaving, his skin flushed pink. Hajime doesn’t want to look away from how absolutely wrecked Toru looks now, and fights against his own pleasure to keep his eyes on him. Toru’s shirt is barely hanging onto his shoulders, his slacks and boxers both shoved down to his knees, everything crumpled and stained. He’s sweating so much his glasses are slipping down his nose, swears and silent gasps pouring from kiss-swollen lips.
“Ah, fuck…!” Toru cries out, and the roots tighten the split second before his hips buck forward out of rhythm.
Hajime’s back arches off the bed, fingers tangled in the towels beneath him, as Toru repeatedly pounds into him. “Hah, sh–shi–it, so, so good–! You’re too–” Hajime throws his arms over his eyes. “Fuck, please, please, plea– Give it to me– Please, baby–”
Toru groans, head hung forward, his entire body trembling. Hajime can feel Toru’s cock twitch, and he whines, clenching hard around him. Toru makes a small, almost pained whimper, then he’s slamming his hips forward, burying his cock deep, and cumming, body bent over Hajime as he gasps for air.
Hajime sighs at the feeling of Toru’s hot cum spilling inside, feebly pulling against his restraints to try to close his legs around Toru’s waist. His breath hitches when Toru unconsciously bucks his hips forward, and he intimately feels each minute tremble of Toru’s body, each pulse of his cock as he fills Hajime up again.
“That’s–” Hajime whispers– “That’s it, gimme… gimme everything…”
Hajime doesn’t get to rest for too long. In the next moment, Toru is pushing his glasses up his nose and his hair off his face, recovering quickly, and begins to fuck his cum deeper into Hajime.
Hajime yelps, back lifting off of the bed as Toru wraps a hand around him and begins to stroke him, tight and fast.
“Hah– Nghh– Fuck!” He scrambles to stop him, fingers finding Toru’s wrist, but one look from him has Hajime obediently taking his hands off, holding on tight to the roots around his thighs. “Ah, please…”
Toru manages a weak smirk, still breathing heavily. “Please, what? Use your words, love.” He laughs when Hajime doesn’t manage anything more than a whined little ‘Toru’. “Pretty slut, look at you. Your poor little hole’s always so greedy for my cum. So fuckin’ tight, won’t even let one drop out.”
On impulse, Hajime clenches around him, feeling some satisfaction in the small noise it pulls out of Toru. In response, Toru squeezes Hajime’s cock on the upstroke, digging his thumb into his slit until Hajime throws his head back, legs spasming within his restraints.
“F-Fuck, ah, ah– I’m–” He whines, pulling against the roots with all his strength. They bow but don’t give way. Toru is persistent, fucking into him with slow, measured thrusts while furiously jerking him off. “Ah, ah–! Hnghh–!”
Hajime cums so hard his teeth clamp painfully down on his tongue, and he squeezes the roots with so much force the bark splits open. His load shoots up and hits Toru’s chin, splattering up to his left cheek and his eye.
Toru wrenches his head back, blinking in shock. “Holy shit…”
Hajime falls onto the mattress, dazed, body falling slack, breathing heavily. His ears are ringing.
As he’s catching his breath, Toru pulls out, dropping a kiss on Hajime’s cheek when he winces. The roots around Hajime’s legs loosen and slither off of his skin and off the edge of the bed, and Toru lies down beside him, snuggling close and mouthing over the curve of his shoulder.
Just as Hajime’s heartbeat settles and he tries to turn over and pull Toru into his arms, he gets shoved back down. Hajime frowns. “What–?”
Toru curls his hand around Hajime’s cock once more, not even giving it a chance to go soft, the poor thing still red and sensitive.
Hajime nearly jolts out of his own skin, immediately attempting to stop him. “F-Fuck, wait, wait, s’too soon–” His nails dig into the flesh of Toru’s forearm. “T–Toru, come on, I– S’too much–”
“One more, Haji,” Toru whispers. “Please? It doesn’t hurt yet, does it?”
Tears in his eyes, Hajime shakes his head.
“Good. And you can keep going, right?”
“I– I can, but–”
“And you want it?” Toru plants a kiss on Hajime’s brow. “Even when it’s too much?”
Hajime nods furiously. “Yes, yes, I do. Fuck, please–”
“That’s good. Doesn’t it feel good, Hajime? You can fuck my hand now, don’t be shy. And let go of my arm.”
Hajime obeys, can’t do anything but obey, one hand flying to cover his mouth as he starts to sob. Even if it doesn’t hurt, it’s still too much too soon. His entire body trembles with each pass of Toru’s palm. Hajime’s tears start to fall. “F-Fuck, please–!”
“That’s a good boy.” Toru shuffles closer, traps one of Hajime’s legs between his thighs, speaking straight into his throat. Hajime grasps at him, catching the sleeve of his shirt. “Just one more, okay? You’re almost there, just a little more–”
Hajime, openly sobbing, cums within the next three strokes. His cock, a shockingly bright red, only spits out drops of watery cum.
Toru immediately takes his hand off, cupping the back of Hajime’s head and pressing kisses from his hairline down to his wet chin. “Shh, shh, it’s okay, it’s okay. It’s over now. You did so well, my Hajime. My perfect Hajime.” He pushes away the hair plastered to Hajime’s forehead, wiping away his tears. “You were so good, such a good boy, did everything I asked. So perfect. Shh, it’s okay.”
Hajime leans up to capture Toru’s lips in a wet kiss, holding on tight. It’s desperate, hurried, and uncoordinated, a mess of teeth and tongues, Hajime locking Toru in place with an arm around his shoulders. Toru doesn’t immediately stop him, letting Hajime lick into his mouth for a moment longer as he wipes his hands clean on a towel. He pulls away with a disgruntled huff, just far enough for him to reach up and finally take his glasses off, and the moment he safely puts them away, he dives back in, matching Hajime’s enthusiasm. He pets Hajime’s damp hair and down his arms, again and again until Hajime’s sniffles finally die down.
Then Hajime feels it, the pleasant buzz of Toru’s magic dissipating. The pain and soreness in his body gradually comes back in stronger and stronger waves. It starts at the tips of his fingers and toes, then up each joint, each fiber of muscle in his limbs. Then everything else starts hurting at the exact same time. His back, his throat, his abused cock and hole – each bit of overstimulation and pain amplified with the sudden onset of every uncomfortable sensation he’s ever known.
He winces, pulling away with a pained groan. Even breathing hurts.
Toru is quick to react, muttering a spell that swiftly dulls the pain. He sits up, trailing his fingers down Hajime’s body, the chill of his magic spreading fast through his fingertips. Hajime takes a slow deep breath, eyes fluttering shut.
Toru bends down to kiss his forehead. “Rest for now.”
While Hajime recovers, Toru hops out of bed. He finally peels his ruined clothes off and drops them into a pile on the floor. He pulls a wet towel off the sheets and carefully wipes Hajime clean before doing the same to himself. He’s in the middle of folding the soiled towel up when Hajime speaks.
“Are you still mad at me?” His voice is shot, and it’s as quiet as a whisper.
Toru still jumps in surprise, looking over at Hajime with wide eyes. “What? No, I’m not.” He drops the towel on his clothes, quickly rushing over to climb back on the bed. “I was never mad, Hajime. Wasn’t even that disappointed, really, but never angry.”
Hajime blinks slowly. "Your work…?"
"I finished that article last week, Iwa-chan, and I've already memorized my notes for the presentation tomorrow." Toru lies down beside him and carefully reaches out to cup his cheek. "I'm not mad, okay? If you hadn't come over tonight, I would have stopped by your place anyway to ask that we cut our deal short."
Hajime sighs with relief and leans into Toru's touch. “Did you miss me? I missed you.”
Toru huffs fondly, a small smile on his lips. He leans forward and kisses the top of Hajime’s head, rubbing a hand up and down his arm. “I missed you. Of course I missed you.” Hajime hums, shuffling closer towards him, not protesting when Toru pulls him into his arms. “My turn. Did you feel good? Had fun?”
“Yeah. No shit, it was good.” He nuzzles up to Toru. “You?”
“With you? Always.” Toru drops another kiss on his forehead. “How are you feeling? How was work?”
Hajime groans lowly, hiding his face. “I really don’t want to talk about work right now.”
“Alright, alright,” Toru giggles. “But how are you? Do you need anything? Want another shot for the pain?”
Hajime closes his eyes. “I’m good.”
“And your magic? Is it back?”
“Not quite. S’gonna take a little longer for everything to come back.”
“Mm. At least the effects are lifting.” Toru holds him even tighter. “You can sleep. I know you’re exhausted. We still have to shower, though, so I’ll wake you up in 15. Is that okay?”
“M’not sleepy,” Hajime murmurs, yawning. “Just need a moment.”
Toru laughs. They both know that Hajime's gonna pass out anyway. “Of course.” Toru kisses his cheek, and when Hajime pouts at him, Toru giggles again, obliging him and kissing him on the lips as well. “So cute, Iwa-chan.”
It’s another half hour before the pill’s effects completely wear off, during which Hajime’s strength and magic slowly trickle back in. When he wakes up from his short nap, he finally has enough energy to get up and walk to the bathroom by himself, although Toru does bring in some water and cut fruit for him, refusing to let Hajime leave the bedroom until he’s done eating.
With their dishes left soaking in the sink to be dealt with in the morning, they shuffle over to the bathroom. Hajime can’t keep his hands off of Toru as they shower, clinging to him the entire time, even while they dry off and throughout the nighttime skincare Toru insists they do. Hajime still holds on to Toru on their walk back to the bedroom, kissing along his throat and reveling in the amused laugh it brings out of him. Toru lends him some spare clothes, one of his many oversized sleep shirts and a pair of loose pajama bottoms. Typically he'd complain about the fact that Hajime always neglects to bring his own clothes over, but decides against it when he spots the small, satisfied smile on his boyfriend’s lips.
One look at the mess on their bed has them heading for the couch. Hajime pushes Toru onto the cushions before immediately crawling on top of him, tucking his head under Toru’s chin and snuggling right into the space carved out for him. Toru pulls the blanket over Hajime’s back and wraps his arms around him, already dozing off under the comfortable weight and warmth of his boyfriend.
And when Hajime wakes up the next morning with his back and neck sore from falling asleep at such an uncomfortable angle, he doesn’t grumble for too long, not when he finds himself waking in Toru’s arms again, not when he can allow himself to finally, finally, savor it.