AN: Thank you so much for all the reviews! It really warms our heart to know that the story is well received despite its dark theme. :D And because we were very motivated and inspired— here is the next chapter!
We're jumping right into the non-con! It'll be a lot of hurt the next few chapters before the comfort comes. ; n ; Please be patient! (Kaito will come soon!)
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There are ten cameras placed in the room.
One snuck between the books on the shelf, one hidden under the ledge of his desk, one embedded in the bottom ridge of the clock—
(Thin wires are pinned to his chest with scotch tape; they barely blend with his skin (once white now flushed red). The patches, wires, and tape are beige.)
"I've bought this especially for you. Convenient, aren't they?"
Shinichi doesn't answer.
One of the cameras is in the far corner, a small speck of dark brown that would have been overlooked if Shinichi wasn't glaring at it—
(Clothes crumpled on the floor around his knees, boxers hooked to the ankle of his left foot, and wrists firmly locked behind his back with his tie.)
The shelf to the right has ten math books and snow globes decorating the bare wooden surface. The armchair is an ugly shade of gray and has light splotches crusted over with a residue of beige—
(The remote is strapped securely to his thigh; no dials, just on or off. Just a maddening thrum and spikes of pleasure searing through his veins.)
There's a burn on his scalp when he's tugged by the hair. His cheek presses against something black, firm, and smelly—
"You know what to do."
(He tries to ignore the ache piling in his abdomen and the wet sliding down between his knees.)
Shinichi glares as he rights himself. He pinches the zipper down with his teeth, and the noise cuts through the rumble of the air conditioner.
(He doesn't want— doesn't—)
Shinichi hesitates two seconds too long and a hand reaches past the elastic band and pulls it up, thick and dank.
(He wants to get out—)
He looks anywhere but at the twitching skin in his face—
(There's a small, white puddle on the tiled floor and heat flames the skin of his cheeks, he blinks and his eyelids become moist—)
"Suck."
—for Kaito, do it for Kaito.
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(He feels like he's underwater.)
Eyes wet and shut, he laps at the beads of precum and traces the bumps and prominent veins with his tongue. The tang mixes with sour bile.
(Allowed to surface for a split second of air before being shoved under again.)
He holds his breath, hollows his cheeks, and opens his mouth.
Hands grip his hair and pull him down.
(He's drowning and falling deeper, much—)
"Deeper—"
He gurgles, eyes widening, water spilling down his cheeks.
(He feels like he's ten miles under, and he starts seeing the world with a mosaic blurred lens.)
Shinichi wants to pull away and gasp—instead, his mouth slides back over the cock, lubed with cum and spit—
(He pretends that he is somewhere else, in his father's library, reading the new Night Baron while leaning against Kaito's shoulder. But water floods through the windows of his study and everything shatters—)
Breathy curses tumble over his head as fingers spin knots into his hair, dictating the push and pull, in and out, creating a slew of sickening wet sounds—
(Think other things—)
It's too hot.
(Other…)
He can't breathe.
(Other things—)
Something warm, sticky, and slippery floods into his mouth and Shinichi chokes. The fat cock is pressed flush against the back of his throat and heat glides down in spurts.
He tries to pull away, but the grip on his head is unrelenting.
(And he's held there. And held there. And held—)
"Ahk—" Shinichi coughs hoarsely, lips red and swollen. Diluted white seeps from the corner of his mouth as he swallows air.
It's done—isn't it?
(Please, god, please let this be done.)
He shuts his eyes and sucks the hot air through clenched teeth.
(The pain in his chest finds some kind of relief with each gulp of air—breathe, breathe, breathe.)
Sweaty palms smooth the skin on his butt and he finds the air stopping in his lungs.
"Amazing… so pale—"
"W-Wait—" Shinichi lifts his head from Yamada's lap. "Isn't this enough, you bastar—ghk—"
He finds himself staring up at the shadows falling over Yamada's face. Thick fingers curl under his jaw, around his throat. He hears the cartilage in his throat crunch under the bruising pressure and it sickens him.
(Breathe, breathe—you're still alive.)
"Sensei. Yamada-sensei." Shinichi watches his tongue flicker and lap the sweat collected under his nose. "Are we clear, Kudou-kun?"
Shinichi's lips quiver—fuck you, fuck you, he wants to say. But Shinichi's mouth opens and he sputters, "Y-Yes, sensei."
Yamada lets go and pets him, hands sweeping aside the sweaty clumps of hair on his forehead.
"You have a problem here, don't you?" Yamada exhales, hand lifting from his throat and floating down to grip between his legs.
Shinichi shivers and jerks to the feather light touch. Fingers drag away and he feels hot, heavy, cold—
(Suffocating under ten miles of pressure.)
"Sensei will take care of it for you."
Shinichi shakes his head.
("No more, please—")
—He gasps, but Yamada doesn't stop. Didn't even hear him, probably.
Yamada's hand slides right in between his legs, skating across the tight ring of muscles. Something cold and slippery spills over where Yamada's fingers were. He feels himself clench before something smooth, round, and pulsating presses into him, forcing him open—
Shinichi's screams are muffled into the the folds of Yamada's slacks. His fingernails claw against his own skin and the green tie and the red chafe marks along his wrists—
(He pretends—pretends that Kaito is stacking food into his rice bowl during dinner, "You need to eat more—")
Hard, slippery fingers dig after the vibrator and pushes it deeper— Shinichi whimpers, his body bending back.
"Do you feel good here?" Yamada crooks his fingers and Shinichi sees white noise colliding in flecks across his vision.
"Ah, ah, ah, nn—"
Shinichi thinks of nothing but how it hurts, it hurts, stop, please, stop—
The fingers withdraw.
Shinichi falls limp, chest heaving as patches vibrators continuing its drone against his nipples. He rests with Yamada's cock stiffening in his face.
(He pretends they're doing homework on the kitchen table after dinner, and Kaito is an arm's length away to give him help with physics that he doesn't really need—)
Shinichi jerks at the hand under his erection; three seconds pass and Yamada is rolling the hard cock in a wet, sticky palm. He squeezes and crushes it against the small oval taped beneath it—
Shinichi presses his face into Yamada's side, breath ragged— "N-No—Stop—"
Yamada laughs, a sound lost in the haze of Shinichi's mind. He feels the violent shake and electricity jolting up his cock before he hears the click of the remote responsible for it.
(He pretends he's lazing on their bed, pillows stacked under his chest as he thumbs through A Study in Scarlet. There's a dip in the space next to him and a laugh hovering over his shoulder—)
Ripp—
"We can't have you dirtying yourself through the rest of the school day—" Something hot, greasy, and tight is slipped over him and scotch tape wraps twice around the base.
(He pretends that—)
His wrists ache once his tie comes undone behind him. His skin is on fire, frail bones raw under the paper thin flesh.
Shinichi lets his knees give way and immediately wished he didn't.
(He pretends—)
"See me after class." Yamada stands from the worn armchair of his, tucking himself back into his pants. Shinichi doesn't look up as he struggles to gather his discarded pieces of clothing. "For a tutoring session, Kudou-kun."
Shinichi slips on his wrinkled clothes, trembling fingers putting the wrong buttons into the wrong slits. He staggers to his feet, breath short and rib cage aching.
(He's trying, but—)
It hurts.
A hand fondles the side of his face and Shinichi clenches his eyes shut.
In the waves of shakes and trembles, Shinichi hears the after-lunch bell shrieking faintly in the halls.
"I'll be watching you, Kudou-kun."
Shinichi shudders when Yamada's breath warms his lips.
"If you're not a good boy, we'll see where Kuroba-kun ends up, hm?"
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AN: As always, reviews are appreciated! Thank you for reading! :D
-Yoyoboyo Inc.