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The hotel room is still unfamiliar enough when Kaiser slips into it and out of the bathroom. Makes the back of his neck prickle; sets his teeth on edge, just a little bit. Jitters through his body in the sort of restless, irascible nervousness he’s made his home in.
Less so these days, of course.
There’s Ness: sitting on the edge of the large hotel bed, posture unfurled—leaned back into his arms, his legs comfortably spread—expression almost eerily neutral. It’s still a bit strange, Kaiser thinks, to be looked at like this by a guy he had (had?) considered his dog; reminds him of that last Blue Lock match, them both sweaty and hollowed out in that hallway, Ness solid steel against him despite it all.
What it does, too, is make Kaiser throb. It’s quite embarrassing, probably, how easy that is, how easy that is for Ness. Makes heat rise to Kaiser’s cheeks—not blooming; that’s for blue bruises and flowers on his body only—scalding, febrile. He hopes against all odds that it doesn’t show on his expression, on his face, any of it.
Ness looks good. His curly, wine-colored hair is styled out of his face—handsome, when it’s dismissive like this—his tie discarded already, the first few buttons of his button-up undone. His slacks dark red and almost velvety, his dress shoes black like polished obsidian.
Makes Kaiser’s mouth water. He lingers in the doorway, suddenly skittish; doesn’t quite know himself what part of it is affected and what part is real. Where one ends and where the other begins. But it’s not like that matters.
Ness tilts his head, but that’s his only movement. “C’mere.”
Makes Kaiser’s breath stutter, hitch, fall flat on its face. Makes him come here, too, though; like he’s pulled by some inexorable magnetic force. He stops right at the edge of the bed, Ness’ thighs moving apart just a little more to accommodate him, and like this, Ness has to lean his head back just a little to be able to look at him still. Like this, a small, quiet, satisfied smile spreads on Ness’ face.
The air is cool on Kaiser’s bare legs, but Ness’ gaze is hot, hot, hot on his face. He tries his best not to squirm under it as he’s sized up.
Apparently, he passes muster, because that’s when Ness’ gaze tracks down his body, instead. Kaiser wants to breathe a sigh of relief, but he keeps as still as he can, body all coiled up while Ness is watching, watching, watching. He’s not touching Kaiser at all, his hands indeed still digging into the mattress, and still Kaiser feels it hot all over his skin.
He’s wearing a dress, is the thing.
Well, dress is a strong word, really. It’s a wispy, scanty thing of voile, more lingerie than anything even remotely appropriate for outside wear, but he supposes that is, indeed, the point.
It doesn’t cling to him, which is probably for the better. Though when he broached the idea, he himself had imagined something more sleek. Something elegant, form-fitting, like a gown. Velvet red, perhaps, like Ness’ slacks, something high-class, with Kaiser’s face painted and earrings dangling blood-red.
Instead, it’s see-through, pink, and so unbelievably light and soft to the touch it might as well not be there at all. Spaghetti straps with little bows where they meet the cups, skirt flaring out right underneath them, babydoll shaped. Ruffled both on the cups and the rustling skirt. It doesn’t cling to him, which is probably for the better, because Kaiser thinks he might have started hyperventilating right about now if it felt like there was something constricting him.
Ah. Ness really does know him way too well, doesn’t he?
It doesn’t cling. Instead, it—
“Pretty girl, aren’t you,” Ness hums, sotto voce, gaze having wandered down Kaiser’s nipples—visible through the stupid dress, of course—to Kaiser’s hips. Kaiser burns in shame, feels it sizzling off his skin.
What he does, too, is clench down around nothing, a jolt of arousal zapping down his spine. Gritting his teeth so tight he thinks they might crack to keep a rather embarrassing noise down.
All of a sudden, like a starburst behind Kaiser’s sternum, Ness’ eyes are back on Kaiser’s face. There’s a haughty arrogance in them that Kaiser thinks he’d like to drown in.
“Thank you,” Kaiser gets startled into replying. For that’s what he’s supposed to say, isn’t it? “Sir.”
Pleased, Ness hums. It vibrates into the air, makes Ness’ Adam’s apple bob, and for a moment, Kaiser is so distracted by it that he doesn’t notice Ness shifting his weight and reaching out until warm palms brush his bare thighs. He can’t help it; he jolts underneath it, and Ness’ smile pinches sharper, without slipping into a grin, but unsettling all the same.
Ness’ hands dig into Kaiser’s flesh, pull him closer. And Kaiser has felt off-balance the entire time—ever since coming here, ever since checking in, but especially ever since changing in the bathroom, standing in front of that mirror to put on his makeup, staring and staring and staring at how both this and the dress transformed him—but now he’s physically unsteady to match, has to catch his balance with his hands digging into Ness’ shoulders, sucking in a sharp breath.
Ness laughs. Sneaks a hand under Kaiser’s skirt to squeeze at his ass. “Hello there.”
God, he’s so…
“Don’t be shy,” he lilts, pleasant, friendly (but ultimately uncaring), his hands and his eyes all over Kaiser, and there’s nothing Kaiser can hide behind anymore. “I’ll take care of you, yeah? Just be good and I’ll make it nice for you, too.”
Kaiser swallows. Sways forward, knocking his forehead to the top of Ness’ head. “And what if I don’t want to be good?”
Ness, slowly but without pausing any, fluid and seamless, leans back, leaves Kaiser suspended into empty space, and then slaps him across the face. It stings; but it’s the surprise of it that really jolts through Kaiser’s entire system. That rocks his head to the side, that pulls another sharp gasp from his lips. That messes his carefully styled hair up, too, probably.
“Well,” says Ness, and it’s the tiniest bit shaky, this time (with sadistic excitement or something apologetic he still cannot entirely shed, Kaiser doesn’t know), but not enough to pull Kaiser out of it, “this.”
Right.
Every centimeter of Kaiser’s skin is buzzing. “I’m sorry,” he says, mindless.
Ness hums again, going back to kneading Kaiser’s ass. There’s really not a lot of it, Kaiser thinks idly, so he doesn’t really get it. Whatever. It’s not like he gets anything about the tight, close, cloying attachment Ness feels towards him, so that’s nothing new.
Right.
“Aw,” Ness coos, and a shiver of waspish humiliation rushes through Kaiser’s entire system at the condescension, pooling in his hips like all of it does. Ness’ palm is soft and warm—idly, Kaiser wonders if that’s because of the gloves, if that’s why he always wears gloves on the pitch; yet another thing on the pile of things he never cared about before—when it cups Kaiser’s face, the very cheek he just struck. His thumb swipes along Kaiser’s cheekbone—indubitably smudging the silver glitter Kaiser has there—in a gesture of mock comfort. “It’s okay; I’m not mad.”
Kaiser swallows again. He’s buzzing, spinning, bubbling. It’s everything, really; right on that knife’s edge of exactly right and too much.
“I know how you can make it up to me, anyway,” Ness continues, still smiling with his mouth closed, hiding his teeth. Kaiser wants, wants, wants. Wants Ness to burrow them in his jugular, maybe.
Alas, that is not in the cards tonight. Probably. Truth to be told, Kaiser doesn’t know exactly what is in the cards tonight, which is, of course, the point.
“Yeah?” he breathes in response, wrapping his arms loosely around Ness’ neck. “What’s that?”
Ness smiles, smiles, smiles. Really, it’s almost pissing Kaiser off at this point. Almost.
Mostly, however, it makes drool pool under his tongue, makes his fingers twitch, makes him all skittish and flighty and needy, too. It’s terrible. Would be terrible, if he let himself think about it too much, but Ness’ hand is warm on his face and he presses his thumb into Kaiser’s skin and Kaiser’s mind empties as he tilts his head to lean into the touch, a sigh spilling out of him.
Just then, exactly when Kaiser acquiesces to the touch, Ness pulls away, leaving Kaiser reeling for a fraction of a second. “Knees.”
It takes a moment until the command really fully arrives in his head. Even then, he cannot help but think and what if I don’t want to be good? but his cheek is still stinging and Ness’ eyes are half-lidded and dark, dark, dark, crinkled in an amused, condescending kind of sadism that pisses Kaiser off and makes him throb both, and he’s supposed to be a prostitute, anyway, so what sense does that make beyond just a bit of affected playfulness?
Kaiser drops to his knees between Ness’ legs. Like this, Ness is towering over him, backlit by the room light on the ceiling, spilling around the edges of his head, of his curly hair, like a halo. Angel boy, Kaiser remembers spitting at Ness on occasion, that jeering mock, that malice spilling over where it’s collecting inside of him, pissed at Ness’ subservience and the way he folds himself and his sharp, canine teeth polite and small, but right now, Kaiser thinks, Ness is nothing like an angel.
Or maybe he’s exactly like one. Devastating, ruinous, deadly. Beautiful, horrifyingly so. Holding Kaiser’s life in the palm of his hand.
Ridiculous, probably. But it’s hot, objectively, to have Ness tilt his head to look down at him like this, shadows carving his face sharper than it actually is. But it’s hot, objectively, to kneel in front of Ness like this, to submerge himself in the fantasy of Ness buying him; uncaring of him as a person, just something to play around with, something to use.
Has that not always been what Kaiser is?
(No, the part that’s messed up is that you really do believe it’s what you deserve, deep down, Ness’d said, chewing on his bottom lip, brows furrowed. It had boiled inside Kaiser’s rib cage. He hadn’t yet—still isn’t—gotten used to Ness talking back.
I don’t know that you can say that when you’re into it, too, he’d spat in response, watching Ness’ face flush. Watching Ness’ eyes flash with it. He’d remembered then how much he used to underestimate Ness, before it all: couldn’t see—didn’t care to see, more likely—the crazed, sadomasochistic tendencies, the way Ness is always foaming at the mouth. That’s why he keeps it pinched closed, isn’t it? To hide his teeth? Look, it gets me off— and you too, you freak—and it’s not like you’re actually hurting me. What’s the fucking problem?
I don’t know… Ness’d said, the faux-innocent, faux-docile, faux-polite, faux-harmless hypocrite, but Kaiser already knew he got him. There’d been that tremor in Ness’ hands, that tightness in his jaw, and Kaiser already knew he got him.
He knows exactly what a hungry, desperate, starved dog looks like, after all. He sees one in the mirror every morning.)
Ness cups his face again. It’s soft, gentle, both satisfaction and a warning against further transgressions. Kaiser leans into the touch, anyway. He needs it.
“Attagirl,” says Ness. “You’re so beautiful… maybe the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”
Kaiser’s eyes flutter shut at the praise, a noise clawing at his throat. It’s nauseating, the way it sparks through his body, tingling in his fingertips and toes and where Ness is touching him. It’s nauseating, the way it buzzes in his nipples and in his cunt.
“I doubt that,” he replies through his teeth. Ness’ thumb nudges at his bottom lip, then nudges up to press lightly against his front teeth.
“Aw. Just because you’re a whore doesn’t mean you can’t be pretty. Open up, yes?”
God.
He does open up. Keeps his eyes shut and opens his mouth, lets Ness slip his thumb inside and press down on his twitching tongue. The tip of Ness’ finger tastes vaguely salty and also sharp and chemical like the glitter on Kaiser’s body, and it’s almost enough to make him gag. Almost, almost, almost.
It stings. On his tongue, his cheek, in his eyes; watering despite how he’s squeezing them shut. God, he’s close to ruining his mascara before they’ve even done anything at all.
“That’s good,” Ness hums, and like this, with Kaiser’s eyes closed, it feels like it scrapes directly over his skin, buzzing everywhere. “A little wider.”
Automatically, like it’s instinct, he complies. Feels it pulse and pulse and pulse inside of his pussy, in tune with his heartbeat. It’s incredible, how delightfully empty his head goes, knees aching faintly on the carpeted floor, Ness’ hand warm where it’s gripping his jaw. Ness’ thumb insistent when it moves to brush over Kaiser’s molars instead, slowly, one by one, like he’s counting them. Like he’s purposefully smearing glitter—is there even any left clinging to his fingertip still?—over them. Painting Kaiser silver inside as well as outside.
Slowly but surely, however, it’s making him feel a little stupid. Makes him squirm under it, the humiliation catching up to him again, and he has to fight to keep his jaw slack. Ness would hit him again if he bites.
Shivering, Kaiser opens his eyes. Blinks to clear his vision. There’s Ness: unfurled, relaxed, smug. His breath is going a little faster, though. And—
And when Kaiser’s gaze drops, there’s the very clear outline of his hard cock straining against his slacks. Ah.
He can’t help it, he rolls his eyes. This is not new, though: Ness has always gotten so hard so quickly he could cut diamond just from Kaiser glancing at him, breathing his way, existing. It’s not new, but it’s fucking ridiculous. What the hell does he see in Kaiser, anyway? He knows he’s gorgeous, objectively, or whatever, but this is just… well, ridiculous.
For a moment, he thinks perhaps Ness didn’t see it at all, for the way Ness slips his hand free from Kaiser’s mouth and wipes his thumb on his slacks—a smudge of glitter there now, too—is unhurried, smooth. He does slap Kaiser again then, though.
Once more, it catches him by complete surprise. Goddamnit, Ness is way too good at that, isn’t he? Goddamnit.
This time, Kaiser moans.
“Oh?” Ness coos while Kaiser’s ears are still ringing from the hit. When Kaiser blinks rapidly, a few tears spill over his lashes. “Did you like that, hm?”
“Fuck,” slips out of Kaiser. Ness hits him again, this time on the other side of his face.
Everything is spinning. Everything is spinning, and Kaiser doesn’t know up from down, can’t focus his vision, can’t hear over the rushing of blood and the tight coil of arousal in his belly, gasping, face burning in shame and excitement and the smarting pain from the flat of Ness’ palm.
Everything is spinning, until Ness claws his hand into Kaiser’s hair—pulling another whiny gasp from Kaiser’s mouth, fuck—until Ness yanks it back, forcing Kaiser to face him, him, him. Kaiser blinks, blinks again. Swallows. Shifts where he’s kneeling. His lips are too wet and his mouth is too dry.
“You did.”
Yeah, he did. He’s so wet that he can feel it by now, slick in his pubic hair rubbing against his inner thighs, because he’s not wearing underwear, either, of course. Ness is quite right: what Kaiser is, right now, is a whore. He wallows in it.
It used to be something of a hypothetical, so far. A thought experiment, if you will; Kaiser lying underneath Ness, with Ness’ lips on his pulse and Ness’ murmured, mindless praise and Ness’ hard, thick cock inside of him, thinking to himself, if Ness hit me, if he held me down with all his weight, if he fucked me with no regard to me and my pleasure, if he looked at me with this condescension or the rabid anger of his he has yet kept away from me, if he treated me like that, then I’d—
And things like that. A hypothetical. Something to help him get off.
And now, Ness slips his hand out of Kaiser’s hair and nudges at Kaiser’s jaw with his fingers instead, tilting it up, up, up. And now, Ness looks at him with eyes that are just that little bit too cruel, too empty to be entirely acted. And now, Ness says, voice even while Kaiser is tremulous all over (and isn’t that just ironic?), “Answer.”
Kaiser closes his eyes. Opens them again when Ness’ fingers dig painfully into his skin.
“Yes. I did. Sir.”
The Sir is an afterthought, and he thinks perhaps it will always be. God, this is ridiculous; this is Ness, for god’s sake. Stupid, foolish, sweet, softhearted, over-romantic and overbearing Alexis Ness. Haughty, arrogant, condescending, fragile, over-cruel and over-sadistic Alexis Ness.
Despite it all, Kaiser thinks he could never get tired of it. All of these contradictions, all of these cycles, the way he thinks they might be stuck with each other until the end of the Earth. He might have doomed them both when he held out his hand years and years and years ago.
Ness smiles. Moves to ruffle Kaiser’s hair, entirely patronizing, and entirely feverish, too. “See? That’s not so hard.”
It is. God, it’s so hard.
Case in point: Ness’ grip on Kaiser’s head tightens again—and how the tables have turned, et cetera; though it’s not like Kaiser doesn’t yank on Ness’ hair at all anymore—to pull him closer, closer, closer. To press his face directly against his crotch.
It’s probably a little pathetic, the way Ness’ cock twitches in interest the moment Kaiser’s cheek makes contact with it, but even that Kaiser can’t manage to focus on for long. Because that’s when Ness grinds against his face, deliberate, and it’s nothing like the fumbling virgin Kaiser had his first time with years ago. There’s something sparkling in Ness’ jewel-bright eyes when Kaiser looks up, up, up—humiliating an action in itself, only made worse by how the edge of Ness’ pinched smile twitches—some sadistic glee that always, always, always makes Kaiser shiver.
He might be just a little afraid of it. But hey, that’s what makes it so sexy, isn’t it? And it’s not like Ness has to know about any of that.
(God, he probably already does, all things considered. Whatever.)
“You’re smudging my makeup,” he says, absently, halfway muffled by the smooth fabric of Ness’ slacks, radiating Ness’ warmth. Ness smiles, smiles, smiles.
“I apologize. I do find ruined girls to be the prettiest.”
Once more, Kaiser’s eyes flutter shut, but this time, Ness doesn’t punish him for it. God, Ness really is way too good at this, isn’t he? With how anal he’d been about the idea at first, Kaiser would have expected him to fumble through it all a lot more. But, hey, he supposes he’s always been underestimating Ness, so why stop now?
“Ruin me, then.”
“Hm,” hums Ness, not impressed. It manages to destabilize Kaiser; to pull him right back to that unsteady cliff’s edge, where he’d settled down so nicely, so comfortably that he lost sight of it entirely.
Ness really is way too good at this, isn’t he? Makes one wonder if he ever thought of this before.
Likely not, with his bleeding-heart eyes and his eternal affection, but a man can dream.
Alright, then. “How do you want me?”
Ness tilts his head, still smiling so obliquely. “Quiet, preferably. I’ve no use for chatty, suck-up whores. Or bratty ones, for that matter.”
Ah.
Where the hell is all this coming from?
That, as well, Kaiser doesn’t get to ponder on—doesn’t want to, either, for that would break the sexy, sexy immersion—because Ness leans down, down, down, descending upon him. Like this, he blocks the light completely for a moment, entirely black-hole dark, and Kaiser has to blink, blink, blink to adjust his vision until it’s too late.
Ness’ lips, despite everything, are still warm and soft and familiar on Kaiser’s. He’s nice enough when he kisses Kaiser, too. Not cruel, or cold, or needlessly, bloodthirstily violent, but patronizing, all the same. Holding Kaiser’s jaw in place firmly, rubbing his thumb back and forth under Kaiser’s ear, humming against Kaiser’s lips, giving Kaiser no chance whatsoever to keep up.
It’s hot. It’s so annoying, but what it is, too, is so, so, so fucking hot.
His tongue laps at Kaiser’s bottom lip, at his sticky, berry-flavored lip-gloss, like a fucking dog. Disgusting mutt, paying for Kaiser’s body in this innocent-slutty dress, ruining Kaiser’s makeup just because he can. Fucking him in whatever way he pleases, just because he fucking can, too.
It’s so hot.
Unhurried, leisurely, entirely at his own pace. Like he has all the time in the fucking world. Which he does, in this scenario, of course; this hotel room is absurdly expensive. Kaiser, hypothetically, would be, too, of course. The most expensive whore of them all. And Ness, of course, would pick him out solely for this fact, as well. God.
Hypotheticals, as he’s mentioned. Even now, right in the moment, he sinks into them. But then, Ness’ teeth dig into his bottom lip, pulling at it, and yeah, yeah, yeah, okay.
God.
Ness leans back, lips parting from Kaiser’s with a lip-gloss sticky smack, and Kaiser, embarrassingly, whines at the loss of contact. Doesn’t chase after it, because that’d probably just get him hit again.
“Greedy slut,” says Ness, anyway, a grating sing-song clinging to his tone. Kaiser grits his teeth. “Get up, yes?”
What the fuck was the point of making me get on my knees, then?
He knows what, of course. Doesn’t mean he’s not seething when he’s getting up, wincing a little at the ache in his knees when he straightens his legs out. Ness’ smile twitches again. Oh, god, Kaiser kind of wants to hit him back right now.
He doesn’t, of course. Instead, he keeps his mouth shut and sidles into Ness’ lap when Ness motions for him to. Lapgirl now too, huh?
Not that he minds that part. Neither does he mind the way Ness goes back to squeezing at his ass, or the way Ness ducks his head to mouth at Kaiser’s throat. The side of it opposite to the tattoo, because he says he likes making it symmetrical. What Kaiser knows, too, even when Ness has never said it out loud, is the fact that Ness simply likes biting bruises into things.
He’s really all canine like that: biting and biting and biting his anger back until he’s frothing at the mouth with it. Biting and biting and biting for real, then. Gnawing through skin and flesh and fat and sinew and bone.
No, Kaiser minds none of these things; in fact, he quite likes the sharp edge of Ness’ teeth, the scent of Ness’ hair. He doesn’t even mind it when one of Ness’ hands sneaks up the side of his voile dress to grope at his pec like it’s a breast, pinching his nipple through the fabric, even when that does make him hiss. Ness laughs into the skin of Kaiser’s throat, softly, bursting warmly over him.
What he does mind is how long it’s taking. He’s squirming in Ness’ lap, he can’t help it; he’s so wet.
Seemingly playfully, Ness tugs at Kaiser’s hair. “Greedy,” he says again.
Kaiser frowns. “What’s taking you so long?”
“Ah,” Ness says, leaning back. His face is a little flushed, his lips a little smudged with Kaiser’s lip-gloss. It pulses hotly in Kaiser’s cunt. “I paid for the whole night. Seraphic, nubile thing like you, I’ve got to take my time and enjoy it, right?”
Jesus fucking Christ.
“Besides,” continues Ness, fanning out both of his hands on Kaiser’s chest, pressing vaguely itchy, lacy fabric into Kaiser’s nipples (Kaiser bites back a noise), rubbing his thumbs along Kaiser’s clavicle, collecting even more of Kaiser’s glitter on it, “this isn’t for you now, is it?”
Right. Of course not. It’s for me, me, me, Ness’ glittering eyes say.
Really, by now, Kaiser is a little dizzy off it all. Dizzy and impatient, and of course this fucking sadomasochist decides to torture them both.
“I’m sorry, Sir,” spills out of Kaiser’s mouth, like it’s out of his control entirely. Like all of this is.
Hypothetically, of course. In the end, it was him who brought this up, him who told Ness to prepare clothes and makeup, him who gave Ness a vague but still very clear playbook. Him, him, him, all of it, always.
Doesn’t feel like it right now, of course, with the smug smile on Ness’ face, but that’s the point, so.
Ness gives him one last peck on his mouth, then he sighs affectedly. “Alright, alright. Get on the bed, then, pretty girl.”
Patronizing, Kaiser thinks as he extricates himself from Ness’ lap, crawling over the bed to get on all fours, before dropping down to his elbows. Arrogant, sadistic, cloying, annoying, obstinate, hot, hot, hot. His head spins with it.
Ness whistles. Like he has a direct line to Kaiser’s brain, Kaiser’s entire body flushes in this stupid, aroused shame. “That’s a nice pose.”
Pervert.
It throbs and throbs and throbs in Kaiser’s pussy, anyhow, of course. It’s good. Ness is good at this. It’s good.
“I want to see your pretty face, though.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
“You know damn well—” claws itself out of his throat before he can catch it, before he can realize he’s very much breaking the scene right now. There aren’t even any red sirens and alarm bells firing off in his skull before Ness presses him face first into the pillow; goes to show how comfortable he’s grown with Ness.
God, he fucking hates comfort.
He struggles for a moment. He has higher grip strength than Ness does, that much he knows, but as to who’s actually physically stronger, he has no idea. He’s taller, but Ness is bulkier, hasn’t been starved in his youth. His grip is tighter, but Ness weighs more. He’s been in many a fight, and he thinks Ness has likely never thrown a punch in his life before.
Things like that. None of that is really of importance right now: with Kaiser’s back arched, the angle is all wrong, and he’s throbbing and his head hurts and he can’t breathe with how tightly he’s pressed into the pillow, with how tightly Ness is gripping his skull.
Eventually, he stops fighting. This is part of the scene too, he tells himself. Leaves him prickling all over in adrenaline-doped arousal-fear, so it’s all the same, anyway.
“Are you going to behave now? I’ve got no problem with choking you out and then fucking you like that if that’s what it takes, for the record.”
What the fuck. Where the hell is all this coming from?
Kaiser laughs, tremulous and staccato-choked, when Ness lets up, when Ness lets him—lets him, lets him, lets him—breathe. Shakes his head with it, chest wracking. Ah, he really is perfect, isn’t he?
“I’ll behave.”
Ness, ever gracious, ignores the laughter. Allows Kaiser to have it. How nice.
Kaiser, in return, squirms to flip over onto his back. His vision is still a little bit blurry, a little fizzy around the edges from the lack of oxygen, and like this, Ness is more beautiful than he’s ever been. Every light in the room bleeds into little stars, sparkling around him, framing him.
It’s ridiculous. Slowly, Ness leans over him, boxing him into the bed, and it’s ridiculous, the way the inside of Kaiser’s rib cage seems to soften up a bit for some ridiculous reason. Really the wrong moment for any of that.
“Help me undress?” says Ness, tilting his head, and like this, with the easy smile on his face, Kaiser can almost pretend it’s like they normally are.
Not that he’s particularly inclined to. But he could.
He does help Ness. Unbuttons his shirt for him while Ness just hovers, lingers, still smiling, driving Kaiser half-insane. Ness shrugs out of it, then, and Kaiser carefully discards the fabric over the edge of the bed, stretching to reach; an opportunity which Ness uses to nip at Kaiser’s throat. The asshole.
Next are the pants, and, ah, yeah, Kaiser almost forgot about that. Ness’ erection has flagged just a little in the meanwhile, but it’s still firm, still painting a clear outline against his pants—is he even wearing underwear? He must be, right—and, most importantly, really rather big. And, well, this is not the first time Kaiser has seen Ness’ dick, nor the second, or, hell, even the twentieth, but it somehow still manages to take his breath away every single time.
Okay, perhaps that’s not all surprise. Saliva starts pooling in his mouth again, after all. Whatever.
Ness’ eyes narrow with his smile, and Kaiser’s face starts flaming immediately. “Yeah?”
Kaiser grits his teeth, moves to work on unbuckling Ness’ stupid belt. Ness and his stupid belt and those stupid, smooth pants and his stupid huge cock. Who the fuck does he think he is?
He’s perhaps a bit harsh when he yanks at the waistband of the pants once he’s unbuckled the belt and unbuttoned them. Makes Ness laugh, and this time, it’s actually genuine and not condescending—affectedly so? Is it really affected when condescension does come to Ness so very easily?—but it burns all over Kaiser like it was, anyway.
“Greedy,” says Ness again, and Kaiser burns, burns, burns. He’s not fucking greedy. Ness is just fucking set on torturing them both until they’ll blow up and paint this stupidly fancy, pristine hotel room sanguine with viscera.
Whatever.
Ness takes his pants off all by himself, his shoes right with them, which is good, because Kaiser thinks he’d have felt completely fucking ridiculous if he’d have to pull them down Ness’ legs, too, what with how Ness is on top of him. Even more ridiculous and pathetic and wretched than he already does, that is, of course; something that’d edge too close to too much, most likely.
It feels alien, too, to consider such a thing. What exactly is too much for him? And how does one avoid it?
Preposterous a concept. But there’s Ness: shimmying out of his pants, the tip of his tongue sticking out of the edge of his mouth, his styled hair a little rumpled, and for just one moment, Kaiser feels so fond he’s sick with it. Ness cares, he thinks. Ness cares to avoid it. Another such preposterous concept. Kaiser aches, aches, aches.
“There we go,” says Ness, airily, once he’s kicked off his boxers too. He’s naked now, as well—well, technically Kaiser isn’t naked, but he sure feels like he is—complete with rounded muscle and the tanlines on his arms and throat and thighs.
And his cock, naturally. “You’re so big,” Kaiser says, because it fits the scene, doesn’t it, but he feels ridiculous and porny with it. Flushes, frowns, especially at the twinkle in Ness’ eyes.
“Thanks. C’mere.”
Instead of letting Kaiser come here, Ness curls a hand around Kaiser’s ankle and yanks. Kaiser is taller, but he weighs less, but even then, he doesn’t think he’s that light; and still, he’s yanked down the bed until Ness can flip up the ruffled, airy skirt of Kaiser’s stupid dress, effectively pushing all air out of Kaiser’s lungs. Effectively pulling Kaiser right back into the scene, too.
God, Kaiser thinks as he shivers under the suddenly cool air—probably just his imagination, however, it’s not like that dress covers anything—right on his pussy, at the way Ness leers at it. God, god, god.
“Please—”
Ness ignores him. Cuts him off, in fact, by pushing Kaiser’s legs apart rather rudely, by swinging, before smacking Kaiser directly on his pussy with the flat of his hand.
It jolts through Kaiser like lightning. Pulls a rather loud, rather whiny, rather wounded, rather startled noise from him, makes him twitch and then writhe and then choke under it. “Fuck!” he yells, only to be hit again. And again. It’s blinding, really.
So blinding that it takes him a few throbbing, painful seconds to catch up to the fact Ness has stopped hitting him for the meantime.
“You’re wet,” he says, matter-of-factly, and all Kaiser has in him to do is stare, stare, stare. Until his vision clears, until he can see Ness, tilting his head almost curiously, almost clinically at his hand. Fanning his fingers out, slick wetness stringing and beading between them.
Shit, he is really fucking wet. What the hell?
“Pretty down there, too,” Ness coos. “I’ll just make it a little puffy for me, yeah?”
Naturally, he doesn’t wait for a response. Not that Kaiser thinks he’d be capable of giving one, anyway; every inch of him is boiling, white-hot and stormy. Desperate, desperate, desperate, heart racing like he’s fighting—running, rather—for his life.
Naturally, he doesn’t wait for a response: no, he just goes back to hitting Kaiser. Three hits in quick succession, one more on the right side of Kaiser’s cunt, one on the left, then one dead center. It’s this one that hurts the most, that has him thrashing and whining underneath it, eyes prickling with embarrassing, unshed tears, because fuck, that was right on his dick. Fuck, now it’s throbbing in desperate arousal and sharp pain, both. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Oh, god,” claws itself out of Kaiser’s throat, and it sounds just a little like a sob. Above him, Ness is smiling. “Fuh—fuck…!”
Ness frowns, pouts, almost, and it blurs and unblurs rapidly with how Kaiser is blinking. “Aw, pretty girls shouldn’t curse like that.”
Oh, he’s going to kill him.
Like it’s punishment, Ness hits him again, dead on once more, and this time, Kaiser’s whole body twitches up off the bed in recoil. He flails, listens to Ness laughing as if through a fog, animal-heart twitching wildly in his chest.
“Please,” spills out of him, and by now, his face is wet. He isn’t sure if it’s sweat or tears or both. “Please, stop, please—”
He doesn’t even really mean it. Has no idea where to put it, all of this lightning-sharp sensation, the throbbing pain intertwining with his arousal—the voice at the back of his mind that chants yes yes yes and this is what you’ve always needed and useless piece of shit—Ness’ scent above him. That’s the issue; he doesn’t know where to put it. He doesn’t really want Ness to stop. He wants—
“Aw, too much? Okay, okay, I’m feeling nice tonight.”
Kaiser blinks. Blinks again, grits his teeth, sniffs wetly. Pants, twitches, until he’s halfway caught his breath, until his head has halfway stopped spinning. Until he’s reaching out, desperation clawing at his insides, to claw at Ness’ arm for something to hold onto, in turn.
There’s Ness: still smiling, staring down at Kaiser intently, like one might with a specimen that’s being observed. Kaiser shivers underneath the gaze; feels strangely turned inside out.
“There you are,” Ness murmurs. And then, right before Kaiser has almost entirely returned to himself: “Just one more, yes?”
Initially, Kaiser doesn’t understand. What, he wants to ask, dumbly, but he doesn’t get to, obviously, because that’s when Ness hits him one final time, and shatters everything. False sense of security. The fucking asshole.
Ah, alas, what Kaiser is actually thinking right now is none of that. Actually, it’s not much at all: just the blinding, sparking pain writhing its way through his body, reverberating until it has shattered everything in his wake. Just the wet spill of tears—this time for sure—down his cheeks as Kaiser sobs, just the way he can feel it in his lungs, raw and visceral and trembling, like prey caught in a bear trap. Ness is going to fucking gnaw his leg off, and he’ll let him, too. Fuck.
“You’re beautiful,” Ness murmurs while Kaiser’s entire universe is still spinning in circles, pressing soft kisses to Kaiser’s wet face; so soft, so gentle in fact, that it seems to physically hurt next to the pain still throbbing in his pussy. “Perfect like this. See, I knew I could get you there.”
Like he made him come instead of cry. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He’s so…
“Turn around for me, yeah?”
Blindly, Kaiser scrambles to obey. Throbs through him, too—both the movement, as assisted by Ness’ blessedly warm hands as it might be and his own instinctive obeisance, like shame and humiliation are both working themselves through his system until he’s full to the brim with it.
Ness hums again. By now, he’s close, close, close, hovering right behind Kaiser, and it’s so warm, it’s so warm. If Kaiser focuses on that, he can almost forget how it hurts; how much it’s going to hurt once Ness puts his cock in.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs, so soft, so nice that Kaiser moans, that Kaiser thinks he could bury himself in it. That Kaiser doesn’t fight back at all when Ness leans over him, when Ness curls his hand around the nape of Kaiser’s neck and pushes him down, down, down, so he’s once more face down, ass up. Really, if Kaiser was able to form a single coherent thought, he’d think something like what the fuck was the point of making me turn around in the first place, then?
But he doesn’t think that, because Ness’ breath is hot on his skin, because Ness mouths at his jaw, at his ear, because there’s now Ness’ cock nudging against his ass, because Ness grinds there, once, twice, until it’s fully hard again. Because truth to be told, Kaiser is quite dizzy with it all. Because truth to be told, Kaiser wants, wants, wants, he wants so fucking badly, no matter how much it hurts.
(Because it hurts, maybe.)
“How much so I don’t have to wear a condom?” Ness pants in Kaiser’s ear, and Kaiser shivers underneath it. Flexes under Ness’ grip, but it holds firm, pushing him down, down, down. Smarting at the base of his skull, cutting off some of his air. Enough of it to make his head spin, at least.
That’s right. He’s a prostitute right now. Right now, he’s a girl and a prostitute and Ness is someone who bought him to use him. He almost forgot about that.
“I’ll add it to your total,” he manages to mumble into the pillow, rather lamely. Really, if this wasn’t a scene, he doesn’t think he’d be in any position to refuse, what with how Ness is holding him down, what with how expensive this room is, what with that glint in Ness’ eyes. God.
“Ah. Good girl. I appreciate it.”
“You’re willing to risk getting me pregnant, then?”
Kaiser can’t look at him, not like this—feels it chatter through his bones, this unsteady, wary obedience, this vague prey-fear at being held down, at the power Ness holds right now—but he knows Ness is smiling. Knows it like he knows the inside of his mouth with his tongue, when Ness brushes soft lips along what parts of Kaiser’s ear he can reach between the hair.
“I’ll pull out, yes?”
They both know he won’t, of course. Really, Kaiser might actually kill him if he does. Still, he nods.
Ness stops wasting time, then. He wraps his free arm around Kaiser’s middle, firm and bordering on the edge of harsh, and it’s too hot, too close, too cloying. It’s perfect. Kaiser buries his face in the pillow just as Ness nudges the tip of his cock inside of Kaiser, and for just one moment, flight instinct blaring in his skull, Kaiser has no idea whether to move forward or backward.
It hurts pretty bad, actually. In a stinging, jolting, burning kind of way, one that flames over his entire body to leave him in ashes.
The only thing he can do, in the end, is take it.
(The only thing he wants to do is take it, too. It’s always been all he wanted, perhaps.)
Ness’ grip on his neck tightens, unraveling the grip of his other arm for balance, and Kaiser bites down on the pillow in preparation for… well, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know anything right now. He’s shaking like a leaf, feels raw and turned inside-out, and it’s everything. God, it’s so fucking perfect.
Ness, he thinks. Ness, Ness, Ness. I think I might love you.
It’s then that Ness slams all the way in. Ness, who can’t possibly be privy to Kaiser’s innermost thoughts at the moment, Ness, whose cock twitches inside of Kaiser’s aching, swollen cunt like he is, anyway. Right now, Kaiser thinks Ness could take it all. Right now, Kaiser thinks Ness could reach deep inside of him and just pull out whatever the hell he wanted, and Kaiser would let him, too. Right now, Kaiser thinks he’d let Ness do anything. Everything.
It’s freeing, somehow. Blisters all over, aches in his spine and his pussy and his lungs and his head and his jaw, but it’s freeing, the way Ness uses his grip on Kaiser’s nape to pull him against him when he pulls out. To fuck Kaiser on his cock.
Kaiser gurgles a wounded, guttural noise into the pillow, but he’s long since tired from struggling. All that’s left is to take it.
It’s good. It’s really, really good. Hurts like hell, but lights a spark-chain of pleasure up Kaiser’s spine, too, exacerbated by every one of Ness’ rather rough thrusts knocking Kaiser’s body into the mattress anew. He’s helpless underneath it, and it’s so fucking good.
Please, he wants to beg, again and again and again, but honestly, he can’t speak right now, and he wouldn’t know what he’s asking for anyway; if there’s anything to ask for at all. He doesn’t even know up from down right now.
“Ah, you feel so good,” Ness moans, hot and prickling in Kaiser’s ear, and there’s that familiar tone of unravel in it that makes Kaiser ache.
Kaiser’s head spins, and the way his whole body rocks into the mattress with every slap of Ness’ hips against his ass doesn’t make it better. Neither does Ness’ heat, pressing himself to Kaiser tight, tight, tightly, until Kaiser isn’t quite sure anymore where he ends and where Ness begins. Until they stick together with sweat.
Ness hisses. Kaiser moans, helpless, claws into the sheets. He thinks at this rate he might just tear something.
“So tight…”
His head throbs in tune with his cunt throbs in tune with his heart. Of course I’m tight, he manages to scratch together with the very last bit of his brains, you fucking beat my pussy; that’ll fucking do it.
“Almost hurts,” Ness gasps, and really, by now, Kaiser thinks he might be able to come like this. Thinks his pussy might be swollen enough that every little touch jolts through the whole of it, pooling in his clit. “Like you’re—nnf—like you’re trying to snap my dick clean off. Are you gonna do that?”
“Like it too much for that,” spills out of Kaiser, half-muffled by the pillow, pushed out of him in staccato with Ness’ thrusts. Ness moans, lets go of Kaiser’s nape, buries his face at the side of Kaiser’s throat.
He’s really and truly using Kaiser now. Pinning Kaiser down with his weight, fucking into Kaiser hard and fast, chasing his own release. Perhaps as mindless as Kaiser himself is, but tinged with a callous cruelty that rushes through every cell of Kaiser’s body, that gets him high, high, high off it all. It’s so good. It’s so fucking good. It hurts and it’s visceral, this clawing inside of Kaiser, but it leaves everything behind in its wake, and it’s so fucking good.
He’s talking, actually, he notices. Babbling nonsensical pearl-strings of please please please (though it sounds more like pleashhh with how Kaiser is slurring) and fuck fuck fuck and can take it can take it I can take it. Can he take it?
(But that’s the good thing about it, of course: he simply has to take it. There’s no question about whether or not he can, because that is entirely irrelevant.)
When Ness comes, he jerks upright, and Kaiser feels the growl caught on Ness’ teeth everywhere, feels it scraping over his very bones. When Ness comes, he grabs the nape of Kaiser’s neck again, this time with both hands, this time leaning his weight into Kaiser so much Kaiser thinks for one mind-numbing, thrilling second he might actually snap it, that he might actually kill him.
He manages to come then, too, sent hurtling over the edge by the faint crack at the base of his skull, the vague fear for his life. Feels Ness throb inside of him—even more than usual because of how much it hurts—feels the hot swell of Ness’ cum inside of him, too—evidently he did not pull out—feels the precarious pain at the back of his neck, and he’s gone. Kill me, he thinks and perhaps even says out loud, perhaps moans and whines and drools and slurs it under his breath in his ecstasy. Kill me, kill me, kill me, please—
In the end, of course, Ness doesn’t kill him.
It feels like it, though, a little bit: the way the very inside of Kaiser’s brain seems to be tingling, like he’s rebooted, like Ness completely took him apart and then put him together again. Kaiser makes a pained noise like he’s getting stabbed when Ness pulls out of him, head spinning, everything prickling. Everything floating far away.
He only comes halfway back to himself when Ness turns him back around onto his back with careful fingers. Unfortunately, however, that makes the pain return, as well; throbbing, pooling mostly in Kaiser’s cunt, his hips and the back of his neck. God, that fucking hurts.
There’s Ness: hovering above him, hair now entirely messed up, flushed, eyes big and glittering. Chewing on his bottom lip in a way that looks rather anxious, even when he’s not saying anything at all.
Ah.
“Alexis,” Kaiser manages out of his scratchy throat, and Ness melts immediately. Rubs his cheek to Kaiser’s, nuzzling there, and Kaiser hisses, but it washes over him in something so warm and pleasant that he almost chokes on it. What the hell?
His hands are shaking. God, he’s shaking everywhere.
“Ah—Micha,” says Ness, mouthing at Kaiser’s jaw. Grabbing Kaiser’s hip, gently, to run his thumb up and down, and Kaiser doesn’t want to admit it, but it’s really rather grounding. “Are you okay? Did I overdo it? I did, right? I’m sorry. Does it hurt much? Do you want water? I’ll grab you water—”
“Alex.”
Ness twitches, blinks. Huffs out a breath, sagging down against Kaiser just a little. “Are you okay?” he asks again.
Kaiser hums. His throat aches with it, too, like it’s made out of sandpaper. Loosely, he wraps his arms around Ness’ neck. Doesn’t pull him closer, but Ness gets the hint, nuzzling into the crook of Kaiser’s neck again.
“Did you come?” Ness asks, sheepish. “It was so, um, that I couldn’t tell.”
Makes Kaiser roll his eyes. Ness really is the only guy in the world who could knock Kaiser around like that—to be entirely fair, at Kaiser’s urging—and then ask if Kaiser came.
Kaiser did, of course, come, but that really wasn’t what this was about. It was at the very bottom of the list of things this was about, actually. But hey.
“Yes,” says Kaiser. Ness hums a pleased little noise, nips at Kaiser’s jaw. Idiot dog. “That water would be nice, actually. Come back quickly, though.”
Ness twitches. “Ah, yes, of course!”
He helps balance Kaiser—he’s still so fucking shaky—when Kaiser half sits up to drink, and for once in his life, Kaiser lets him. Ness presses a kiss into Kaiser’s hair and to Kaiser’s shoulder, tugs at the straps of Kaiser’s dress affectionately, and Kaiser lets him, lets him, lets him. Lets him push the empty glass a little further onto the bedside table than where Kaiser put it, too.
“We still have the room for the whole night,” Ness murmurs, and it’s so warm, it’s warm everywhere. Kaiser feels wrung dry, blissfully empty. It’s so good. “Do you wanna clean up or take a nap first?”
“Alexis,” Kaiser says again. He doesn’t have to say anything else for Ness to carefully slide the dress off Kaiser, doesn’t have to say anything else for Ness to slip into bed beside him, draping the blanket over them both, and wrapping his arm around Kaiser. Kaiser burrows his face into Ness’ chest and closes his eyes.
He doesn’t have to say anything else for Ness to press another kiss to the top of his head, either.