Chapter Text
Ness was acting like a child—he always had.
Especially when he took an embarrassing photo of Kaiser and threatened to post it.
At first, Kaiser had gently asked him to delete it, but the look on Ness’s face—smug, enjoying the moment, waiting for him to beg—made his blood boil. He wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction.
So it was only natural that Kaiser decided to take Ness’s phone the next chance he got.
He didn’t have to wait long—Ness was about to leave the locker room to head to the showers, and Kaiser knew the phone would be left behind.
He just had to wait until Ness walked out.
And he wasn’t disappointed.
When he opened Ness’s locker, he was pleasantly surprised to find the phone still unlocked.
“A quick look through his gallery couldn’t hurt… right?"
God, he shouldn’t have.
While scrolling for the so-called picture, he found something he never could’ve imagined.
There it was—a ten-minute video of Ness, flat on his back, getting his ass wrecked by some random guy Kaiser didn’t recognize.
It was filthy. His hair was a mess, cheeks flushed, mouth open, begging for more as the guy picked up speed, fucking him deep.
Ness was moaning—loud and needy—while the one behind the camera whispered praises Kaiser couldn’t even make out.
Kaiser couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t speak—and most of all, he couldn’t stop watching.
The moans, the spit, the tears, the way Ness wanted it—how good he looked begging for more.
And yeah—Kaiser felt himself getting hard.
But that wasn’t even the worst of it.
His stomach dropped when a second guy stepped into frame—and shoved his cock straight down Ness’s throat.
"God~... he’s such a good boy, isn’t he?"
He was big, and somehow, Ness took it all the way to the base, moaning against his pubes.
While he was busy with his mouth, the other man behind him seemed to have found his prostate—Kaiser could tell by the way Ness’s whimpers got louder, higher.
“Here?” the man asked, voice low and teasing.
Ness couldn’t speak—not with that cock buried in his throat.
He could only whimper, a shaky sound of agreement.
The cameraman zoomed in on Ness’s lower body, his flushed, pink cock slapping against his belly with every thrust.
It was obvious he was close—Kaiser could feel it just by the desperation in his sounds.
Then it became too much.
Lost between lust and confusion, Kaiser heard a knock—but not in the room. In the video.
And he recognized it.
His own voice.
“Ness, you there? I need you to do something for me.”
This… this happened at Blue Lock.
That’s when the man in front of Ness pulled his cock from his throat with a loud pop and quickly covered his mouth with a hand.
“You don’t want him to hear you, right?”
“You think he could fuck you like this?”
“Bet Kaiser wouldn’t last five minutes with that tight little ass.”
That was it—the bulge in his pants started to ache. He had to take care of it.
He slowly pulled his shorts and boxers down and wrapped his hand around his throbbing cock.
He couldn’t care less if a teammate walked in on him now.
He imagined it was him in the frame.
He couldn’t decide which of the two he wanted to be—the one wrecking Ness from behind or the one gripping his hair, guiding his mouth.
Both of them—both of him—taking control, fucking owning Ness in every damn way.
A few seconds later, the one filming removed his hand from the bottom’s mouth and shifted their positions.
Ness was now on all fours, back arched, cheeks red from being slapped, whining softly—while sucking the other guy’s cock.
Saliva dripped from his chin as he moaned around it.
The first man was behind him again, pounding into him mercilessly.
The obscene sound of skin slapping skin filled the room, synced with Ness’s choked moans.
Kaiser’s breathing was shallow now, wrist working steadily as he stared at the screen.
His hips bucked up into his own hand, chasing something he didn’t even understand.
He could see it in the video—the way both men were falling apart, their rhythm faltering, groans sharper, deeper.
They were close.
And so was he.
Kaiser was right there.
Fist clenched tight around his cock, hips twitching uncontrollably, breath ragged—he felt it building, that razor-sharp edge, heat roaring in his gut, just a few desperate strokes from shattering over the edge—
When a voice cut through the air behind him:
“Enjoying the show?”