Title: Talkative
Disclaimer: bondage urayoru bondage urayoru bondage urayoru
Pairing/s: UraYoru
Summary: A teenage Urahara and Yoruichi make a bet.
A/N: bondage urayoru
"Sorry, Dad, didn't mean to wake you up. Yes, my homework's done. No, I wasn't watching porn, I just couldn't sleep. No, no one else's in the room with me. Okay. Okay, yeah, love you too. Bye. Bye, Dad."
Yoruichi slams the door shut and leans against it with a heavy sigh. Beneath the king-sized, ridiculously soft, ridiculously fancy bed, Urahara holds his breath. Maybe he's safe. Maybe-
"Yaaaaahh!"
Oh, crap.
Urahara scrambles out from under the bed just as Yoruichi swings a bat in the general direction of his head. "Yoruichi-san!" he shouts. "Yoruichi-san, don't-ahh!"
"You almost got us caught, idiot!" she snarls back, lunging at him. "By my fucking dad!"
"I really don't think you're help-ow, Yoruichi-san, that really is painful!"
Yoruichi rolls her eyes at his cry and lowers the bat. She sighs again. "Don't be such a wimp, Kisuke, it's just a bat."
"Wimp! Aha, you're the one who knocked down the bookcase when I-!"
"You're the one who couldn't keep his big, wimpy mouth shut and woke up my dad."
Urahara casts a dramatic hand across his mouth. "Why, Yoruichi-san! I assure you I can keep my mouth shut just as well as any man."
"Which isn't saying a lot," Yoruichi points out. "Besides, you're not even a man. And my dad hates you enough already. You know he's looking for any excuse to kick you out of here, right?"
Urahara looks down at his barren chest and skimpy boxers, and back up at Yoruichi's obviously swollen lips, her tousled hair, her hastily thrown-on shirt. "I really think this might be more than just an 'excuse', Yoruichi-san."
"Yeah, well, it's not up to him who I have sex with, anyway. At least it wouldn't be if a particularly noisy street-rat could just keep his mouth shut."
Against his will, Urahara is reminded of their not-so-former activities and he swallows hard. "Why should we have to be so quiet all the time? I happen to know of a great place where-"
"I'm not doing it in your dumb park, Kisuke!"
Urahara winces as Yoruichi cuffs the side of his face. "Ah, ah, no need for violence, Yoruichi-san! I will not bring up the park again it is such a big issue! Ow, OW, Yoruichi-san!"
"See?" says Yoruichi confidently. "Wimp! I bet you couldn't last even twenty minutes without screaming."
"Are you challenging me, Yoruichi-sa-ow!"
"Actually," Yoruichi says, apparently losing interest in beating her friend in favour of stroking a very beardless chin. Urahara decides to count his blessings. "That might not be such a bad idea. Kisuke! You up for a little competition?"
Urahara narrows his eyes. Competitions with Yoruichi are never good. Competitions with Yoruichi are never beatable. Competitions with Yoruichi usually result in very long, very humiliating ass-whuppings in front of the rest of their classmates at the academy.
"What happens if I lose?" he asks suspiciously.
Yoruichi shrugs. "If you lose, I kick your ass at the academy tomorrow. Simple as that."
"And if I win?"
Another shrug. "If you win…" She frowns. "If you win… we'll fuck wherever you want to. Even that stupid park of yours." Urahara can see her shudder a little and fights a small grin. Yoruichi likes adventure, but she despises letting Urahara get his way. He can't remember the last time they did anything that wasn't her idea to begin with.
"Alright," he agrees, "I'll do it. But be prepared to lose, Yoruichi-san!"
"Lose?" she laughs, and Urahara's eyes go wide as she reaches under the bed. "Kisuke, when have you ever known me to lose?"
The first time Urahara had been invited to Yoruichi's room, she'd ruffled his hair and asked him, "Oi, do you wanna see something neat?'. Without waiting for him to respond, she'd then proceeded to dive under her bed and drag out a small, white box. A small, white box that there was no way it could be legal for someone under eighteen to own.
"W-where did you all that stuff?" he'd stammered.
Her rich laughter had filled the air. "I'm a Shihoin, Kisuke. We get special favours, sometimes."
Now, Urahara swallows. The box is a demon-trap. Whips, cock-rings, straps… Whatever she pulls out of there, he's doomed. Doomed.
Her grin is wide and sly as her hand digs through the box, settling finally on something he can't quite see. "I intend to win," she informs him seriously, and pulls it out with triumph.
Kisuke's mouth drops. A little drool drips down his lips.
"Is that-is that a strap-on?" he asks at last.
"Yep."
"Yoruichi-san-"
"Did I say you could speak?"
Urahara blinks. "Um, no, I just-"
"Did I say you could speak?"
"I just-"
"Get on the bed!"
Fighting with her is not worth the effort. Urahara lets out a long, melodramatic sigh. "Fine," he relents, and climbs on to the ridiculously soft, ridiculously fancy bed. He can feel Yoruichi's breath in his ears.
"Now turn over," she whispers.
He does, feeling her hands slide over his back, dipping to just below his boxers. She kisses his neck. She smells like sweat and expensive perfume, and her fingers are soft. One slides up and rubs circles around his nipple.
"Mmm," he says, despite himself, and she 'tsks' lightly.
"Ah, ah, ah," she murmurs.
She draws back and he can hear snaps clacking and a bottle twisting open. "What are you-" he begins, but she cuts him off with a "Shhhh."
The next thing he feels is her hands down his boxers again. "These need to go," she tells him in a deep, husky tone. He nods. She stips him of them and tosses them to the floor, where he can see she's already dumped her shirt. His cock free, she cradles his balls, strokes up to the head of his shaft.
"You ready?" she asks.
"Mm," is all he can say.
Urahara has never been fucked before. If he's completely, one hundred percent honest, Yoruichi was the one to take his virginity. He never told her that, but he thinks she knows just the same. And it's not like he's entirely straight, but never in his mind has he ever imagined himself to be the one receiving. If he's completely, one hundred percent honest, it's a little bit… arousing.
She wraps something rough and tight around his wrists (rope, he thinks, but it's dark) and he watches her tie it tight to the bedframe. He can hear the wicked grin in her voice. "You're going to lose," she repeats.
Then there's a slick finger poking at his entrance and Urahara squirms, uneasy, unsure. "It's okay," she whispers. "You're gonna be fine, you wimp." She pushes the finger in and he's surprised at how easily it slides through. In it slides, then out, a rhythm pounding in his ears.
She doesn't warn him about the second finger. It, too, pushes in easier than he would have expected, but he feels very… full. "Uh," he begins, but that turns into a quiet, "Ahhh….." as she adds the third.
"You take much longer and I'll have already won the bet," he manages finally, just to irritate her. She doesn't fall for it, though. Her grin is as loud as the muffled scream that woke her father in the first place.
"Good things come to those who wait, Kisuke," she tells him, and it beings.
Urahara didn't get a good glance at the strap-on earlier, but there's no way it could have been this huge. Slippery with lube, filling and tight, Yoruichi slides deep into Urahara, and he lets out a tiny, "Urgh."
"You okay?"
"Ah, yes. Don't mind me, Yoruichi-san. Do your worst."
"I plan to," she chuckles, low and rich and with a slight quaver that curls up hot in Urarhara's belly. She pulls back and pushes in again, and again, and again, and suddenly Urahara bucks back into her.
"Ah-ah-"
"Found it," she declares, sounding imminently satisfied. She grips his ass with both hands and jerks her hips forward.
Urahara bites back what would be a game-ending moan and she hesitates at the sound. "Don't stop on my account," he tells her, struggling to keep his voice even. He can feel himself hardening even further, his cock throbbing with the pressure.
Out again, then in, finding a rhythm. It wouldn't be so difficult if he wasn't already half-hard from their previous encounter. He's seeing stars behind his eyes and with every thrust there's more. In, not hard enough, not biting enough, his cock needs touch, he needs more but dear lord it's so good.
Urahara's teeth dig into his lips until they bleed. His hands fight at the restraints but he can't lift his head off the pillows. He wants to-he needs to-
"Yoruichi-san," he tries, "Would you be so kind as to untie me so I can-urk."
"Have something to say, Kisuke?" she smirks, but she doesn't stop, doesn't relent. His hips thrust helplessly into the mattress, struggling to find the friction he so desperately seeks. "You know," she whispers into his ear, "I'm starting to really like the way you look tied up. You're all flushed and your hair's a mess. Maybe next time I'll strap you to the desk, spread your legs and suck your cock while you-"
"Gods, Yoruichi-san."
"What was that?"
"Untie me, you evil woman!"
"I didn't hear a 'please'," she murmurs silkily.
"Ah-ah-please."
"That's better." But she doesn't untie him, just slips her hand to rub just under his belly button. He jerks back and down into the mattress again, panting. "I don't like it when men don't use their manners. Men who say things like 'fuck yeah' while being fucked are of no use to me. I'm practically a queen-they ought to show proper respect. From now on, you will only say 'please', is that clear?"
"Please, Yoruichi-san. Oh, Gods."
She grasps his shaft and trails her fingers along the sensitive skin, not losing her rhythm. He shoves into her hand, but it's not enough.
"Please," he says again, "More."
He feels her other hand slip down his ass and tug at his balls from behind. He can't stop moving, can't stop jerking into the bed, into her hand. Her fingertips graze the tip of his cock.
"Harder, please," he whispers.
Her lips against his skin. "You like it, don't you… Being fucked. Being beaten. I've always thought… But you never said anything. You're usually so noisy. You usually don't shut up. But this-" hard inside him, bruising force "-you don't talk about. Why not?"
"Yoruichi-san," he gasps. "I thought this entire exercise was for me to prove I can be quiet."
She snorts. "If you call this quiet, you're nuts, Kisuke."
"Yoruichi-san-shut up."
Harder, faster, deeper into the blankets, the friction of her hand and the cloth bringing him closer, closer. His hips have a mind of their own. Her hands are dry and peeling but her fingers are slick with pre-come. "I'll leave the curtains open," she whispers, "while you're tied to that desk. Everyone will see you. Everyone will see you all red and sweaty like this. They'll see you but you won't be able to stop yourself. You'll come closer and closer to finish, but then-"
Abruptly, she snaps her hand away from his whining cock. His breath hitches. The pressure turns to slight pain at the lack of release and he lets his head drop to the pillow, breathing harshly.
"-just like that," she concludes, "I'll stop. Everyone will see you lying there, unable to finish, begging, helpless. How will that make you feel, Kisuke?"
"I'm supposed to be quiet," he tries to sing-song, but the ache in his cock makes his voice shake. Yoruichi laughs.
She draws back and he collapses to the mattress. "Roll over," she orders. He does as she says, hearing his blood pump in his ears. The rope twists and digs into his wrists. "Now beg me to suck your cock."
"Yoruichi-san-"
She rubs a hand heavy over his nipple, then tugs at it lightly. "Beg me."
He swallows. "Yoruichi-san, please-ah, please-"
"See? You're too much of a wimp to say it. I won't suck your cock," she says derisively, staring down at him. She parts his ass and slides in again, arching her back to take his right nipple in her teeth. She sucks on it and licks it and fucks him hard.
He throws his body up into her soft curves, seeking relief in the roll of her toned stomach. "Nope," she says. Her hand grips his cock tight, too tight, and doesn't move an inch. "You haven't begged me yet. You haven't asked permission to come, yet."
"Yoruichi-san, please-"
Urahara lets out a moan, completely unbidden, as she shoves her way to his sensitive prostate, squirming back and forth, unable to touch himself, unable to feel anything but the pain in his cock and stars behind his eyes.
"I can't hear you!"
"Please, Yoruichi-san!" Urahara squeezes his eyes shut tight, feeling his face turn a deep shade of scarlet. "Let me come! Please!"
Without a word she ducks her head and nuzzles her lips against the tip of his member, eyes half-lidded and lips swollen. Her hand is still wrapped tight, too tight around him as she whispers in his ear, "Then, I will let you come, there on that desk, in front of all your friends, in front of all our teachers and captains. I'll let you come, and they'll all watch as you-"
She lets go of his cock. Thrusts into him one last time. And takes him in her mouth.
"Oh my God, oh my God," Urahara whispers.
Then he's screaming, he can't stop, he's lost the bet and he doesn't care, he can see himself on that desk, can see all the people watching him, can feel himself in her mouth, and he can't stop screaming and moaning as finally, finally, finally release comes. The orgasm sweeps over him and sends heavy, wracking shudders down his spine. It seems to last forever but all he can sense of the outside world is Yoruichi's hot lips wrapped around him.
When the world comes back into focus, he can hear Yoruichi laughing.
"I won," she tells him gleefully. "I told you I would."
Urahara stares at her for a long time. "You wanted me to do that," he says at last.
"Of course I did, I wanted to win!"
"No." He shakes his head, and he can feel a small, lazy smile tug at his lips. "You like how loud I am. You like it when I talk-that's why you made me beg. You like it when I moan and scream. You get off on it, Yoruichi-san, my dear!"
Yoruichi coughs. Then she chuckles. "Alright, you got me, Kisuke. What do you propose?"
She leans down and he kisses her deeply. "Well," he says, wrapping his arms around her waist. "I know this little park where we can be as loud as we want…"
owari