WARNINGS: Non-con? (a bit)
NOTE: In Dissociative Personality Disorder, the person develops 'alters' (or other personalities) usually from some sort of traumatic experience as a child that they tried to escape from by 'dissociating' (creating an alternate personality so that they don't have to face what happened to them, etc.) Typically, the 'alters' are completely aware of the real person, but the person may not be aware of their alters at first. So when an alter takes over, the true person will have no memory of what occurred during that time. In this story, there is "Seijuro" (the actual person) and his alter who refers to himself as "Akashi."
(***)
The water poured over them from the faucet, hot and steaming. The blanket that had been covering Kouki's body had been abandoned on the bathroom floor, but Akashi himself was still fully dressed- his dress shirt clinging wetly around the muscles of his abdomen as the shower drenched the two head to toe.
Kouki was pinned against one side of the shower, and Akashi was looming over him- ravishing the other's mouth hungrily while his hands danced across bruised skin a little too roughly. He pushed his tongue deep into the other's mouth, but he wasn't getting much of a reaction from the taller boy.
His hands flicked and pinched at Kouki's nipples, eager to elicit some sort of response. The boy flinched and let air out slowly from this mouth- Akashi grinned and then dove his mouth into the boy's neck.
"W-wait…can we..jus- it hurts.." Kouki whispered softly, his words almost drowned out by the sound of the shower beating around them.
"I just saved you," Akashi hissed against the tender, bitten skin of Kouki's neck. "You owe me- I don't care if it hurts. Besides, you look so hot covered in bruises…"
The red haired man then pushed Kouki even harder up against the wall, reaching one hand down to grab onto Kouki's cock- grunting with displeasure at how flaccid it was.
Stupid little shit- if he's going to keep you around, you need to learn how to enjoy this.
He starting pumping Kouki viciously, moving the skin beneath his tight grasp all the way up and down over and over until the boy was squirming, his expression twisted together.
"W-wait…it hurts!" He cried. Kouki's body was not ready for any of this yet- it ached and stung- even as his erection built he could feel stinging bits of pain rushing through his balls. The hand continued to jack him off, relentlessly and Kouki choked, the sensation of having water drip down his bringing back horrible memories.
He shook, and wailed in a cracked voice: "Sei-Seijuro!"
Suddenly, Seijuro stumbled back from him. The crazed expression and smile were gone- even his stance seemed different- more subtle and reserved. His eyes widened and looked down at himself- soaked and yet fully clothed.
What?
Seijuro stepped out of the shower quickly and rushed to the sink, clenching his fists onto the edge and staring at his reflection, a slight hint of panic furrowing his brows.
What happened? How did I get here?
Looking around the small bathroom, he recognized the familiar contents- this was his apartment on the East side of town. He didn't stay there often- just about twice a week when his work on this side of town went too late to make catching a taxi home worth it.
My apartment…Kouki in the shower…
Seijuro's stomach flipped- his awareness of Kouki's presence taking over. He stepped back, forcing himself to breath steadily and then spoke in a calm voice.
"Go ahead and come out of the shower. I need to talk to you."
Kouki relaxed at the sound of Seijuro's voice- his tone had taken on its normal nature. He wasn't sure exactly what had been going on so far today, but it had been terribly obvious that Seijuro wasn't himself.
From the moment he'd seen Kouki's body, and his eyes lit up with rage, to when he was dragging Kouki out of his room telling him that he was taking him away- Seijuro's actions and movements had seemed foreign and out of touch. The way he had pushed Kouki straight to the bathroom and into the shower once they'd entered the apartment- the way he'd followed in after him, hungry and panting. It seemed like an entirely different person.
He stepped out of the shower slowly, covering his lower area with his hands.
Seijuro let out an audible, though quiet, gasp- his eyes taking in the pathetic sight of Kouki's bruised body. He stepped forward and silently touched the brunette's body, tracing circles as lightly as possible around each bruise, as if it was the first time he'd ever seen them.
For a second, Seijuro had panicked inside his own head- worried that he had caused the damage himself. However, he could tell from Kouki's body language that he had not- and it made more logical sense to assume it'd been some other john.
I must have come to see Kouki, and then lost my temper. Did I black out from anger? That wouldn't be like me…but seems like the most logical conclusion. But why did I go there in the first place? Isn't it Friday? I should be home…
This wasn't the first time this had happened to Seijuro. He'd missed a few days of work over the last couple months- days that he couldn't recall at all. Hours of time that seemed to disappear- strange charges on his account balance that he couldn't remember making. For the moment, however, Seijuro pushed his concern to the side. Right now he needed to deal with the present situation.
Seijuro paused from touching Kouki and then checked his own pockets- thankfully, his phone wasn't on him. He looked up into Kouki's face and gave a small, sweet smile.
"I'm sorry, Kouki. I seem to have blacked out a bit," He started, reaching a hand up and caressing the side of the boy's face- who shivered and blushed, looking away from his gaze. "I'm assuming that I realized you'd been hurt by another john, and then took you with me. Nod if I'm correct."
Kouki nodded, stepping back a bit. So he was blacked out with anger? That's why he acted weird?
Seijuro sighed, long and annoyed. "I'd told him that I wanted you to myself."
"I know… he told me…" Kouki whispered- talking about it making it impossible not to remember what had happened to him- he grimaced at the thought of it all. Everything had just happened so quickly- literally just seconds ago, Seijuro had been about to assault him himself. Kouki shivered and bent to pick up the blanket and cover himself again.
"I have towels," Seijuro offered casually, reaching behind him to open a cabinet and throw a soft, white towel Kouki's way. The boy caught it and nodded, wrapping it around his body defensively. Seijuro grabbed himself a towel as well. "Let's talk in the other room."
The apartment was a nice size- one bedroom, one bathroom, a half kitchen and a sitting area. The contents were somewhat bland- all white or brown, with a few green plants placed here and there. It was fairly obvious that no one lived there daily- a small layer of dust covered some shelves and counters. The couch looked as if it'd never been sat on.
Kouki followed Seijuro out from the bathroom and took in the sight- it was much nicer than anyplace Kouki had ever been invited into to. He swallowed and stood awkwardly in the middle of the sitting space, feeling out of place.
"Sit on the couch."
Kouki obeyed, but could feel nervousness creeping up from inside him. There was something he wanted to say, but he wasn't sure he could muster up the guts.
Seijuro glanced over at him, but stayed silent as he stripped off his wet clothes and laid them in a pile on the wooden floor. The two remained there in an awkward and long silence as Seijuro continued to dry himself off casually and Kouki fidgeted on the couch, his thoughts running marathons through his head.
"I…I…" Kouki started when Seijuro had wrapped himself in the towel and taken a seat in the arm chair across from him. "I..want to..s-say-"
"You want to thank me, right?" Seijuro cooed, leaning his head in one hand, his elbow propped against the arm of his chair.
Kouki's stomach sank and he stumbled for words- no that hadn't been what he'd wanted to say at all, in fact it was quite the opposite. He froze- unsure of what to do- until Seijuro laughed and spoke again.
"Don't worry, I can tell that's not what you wanted to say." His eyes looked him straight on, calm and analytical. "I'm perceptive enough to know that."
The red haired man sat up straight again and brushed a hand through his locks. "You're grateful to be out of that place, but you don't want to be with me either, correct?"
Kouki paused, and then nodded meekly. It was true- while he knew logically that being with Seijuro was much better than being left at the whore house, it still wasn't any sort of life he desired. As it was, Kouki wasn't sure he desired life at all. He was running out of options, and he wasn't sure he could handle any of them. It would have been better if I'd just never been alive at all. I should've died back then with my mother. If I was lucky, they would have shot me.
"Well, as of right now, you're free."
The words didn't process at first, but when they did Kouki's heart felt like it was melting inside of him. "Wha..?"
Seijuro stood up slowly, the towel around his waist hanging delicately over his lean naked body. He sauntered over to the kitchen to grab a plastic bag from one of the cabinets while talking:
"I learned at a very young age that forcing people into things isn't the best way to control them. A much more effective method is to allow them a choice- so that they consciously decide to do what you want to them to on their own. That way, the regret they may feel later is one aimed at themselves. I don't want to force you into staying with me, Kouki. I want you to choose to on your own."
The boy flinched at the statement, lifting his knees up onto the couch and pulling his towel closer around him. "So…I have a choice?"
Seijuro nodded, picking up his wet clothes from the floor and placing them in the plastic bag. Without a hint of shame, he stripped from his towel and used it to cover the puddle of water on the floor. He turned to face Kouki, stark naked and smiled softly.
"Precisely. I'm giving you a choice. Choice One: You leave now. Walk out the door and I'll never bother you again. If you want to go kill yourself or attempt to start a new life somewhere, just leave now."
Kouki shivered at the bluntness of Seijuro's words and asked anxiously, "And..choice two?"
"Choice Two: You promise to be mine. I'll let you stay here, in this apartment. You'll have a curfew of eight o' clock each night. I'll come visit you every Thursday and Sunday evening, and maybe some random times as a surprise. During the day, you can do as you please. Find a day job; lay around, whatever makes you happy. I could even arrange for a tutor, if you'd like to be educated. As long as you're back by your curfew, you can live like a free person." The man paused and then walked over, leaning a hand on the arm of the couch and bringing their faces close together. Kouki's eyes went wide, but he didn't scoot away.
In a soft, husky voice Seijuro continued: "But, understand that you'll no longer be my prostitute. You'll be mine completely- that means, you're not obligated to just sexually please me. You'll be obligated to please me in every way. Make me dinner, keep the apartment clean, smile when you see me, kiss me goodbye. And I'll expect you to do this forever. No paying off debts, no serving your time. Forever, Kouki."
He then leaned in, bringing their faces together softly. Kouki's fingers twitched as Seijuro's tongue lightly licked his lips and slipped into his mouth, exploring tenderly. The kiss was horribly romantic- nothing rushed or desperate within it. Just slow, hot and agonizing- as if Seijuro wanted to lay a blessing on each inch of Kouki's mouth and tongue. The brunette trembled, sparks flying through his stomach.
Finally, Seijuro leaned back out, wiping the spit off his mouth and smiling with his vibrantly colored eyes. "I'm going to grab some clothes from the bedroom. When I come back out, you can tell me what you decide."
Kouki watched him as he walked away, the pale skin of his ass sliding over the firm, sculpted muscles underneath as Seijuro's body moved further away and then disappeared behind the bedroom door. Kouki closed his eyes and lay down on the couch, feeling the dull lumps of pain still present all over his body.
He didn't have to think much. He'd already made his decision- as much as he hated to admit it; he was much too cowardly to try to start over again now. He'd go with the easier decision.
He'd become Seijuro's.
(***)
For the first time in Kouki's life, things became routine.
He got a part time job at a local grocery store, and walked there to work in the morning hours. Monday through Wednesday, he had a tutor come to see him in his apartment promptly at eight o' clock- which Kouki expected was to further insure that he was making his curfew every night. His tutor, Makoto Hanamiya, wasn't exactly kind (and kept a tough regimen) but was extremely intelligent- so much that it made Kouki all the more aware of his lack of education. But that only made him more dedicated- and he kept up with the studies fairly well, considering he'd dropped out of school in his middle school years.
Kouki was provided with a large allowance each month, and he didn't have to worry about the rent or utilities for the apartment. He tried his best to only spend the money he'd earned himself through his part time job- mostly out of the little sliver of pride he still had left. He was learning to cook fairly well for himself, and honestly enjoyed keeping the place clean. There was a small part of him that felt sick about all of it- but the majority allowed himself to feel proud of the apartment. It felt like his own home, in a twisted sort of way.
Seijuro came to visit him every Thursday and Sunday night, without fail. Kouki would fix him dinner and then they'd eat together- sometimes making small talk, sometimes not. Then, Seijuro would fuck him.
Sometimes sweet and slowly, with extraordinary amounts of foreplay, and slow hard strokes in missionary style, so that they could kiss and breathe into each other's gasps and moans. Sometimes it was ravenous- barely making it through dinner before Kouki would be leaped upon and stripped, showered in bites and kisses and then thrown onto his stomach and fucked from behind until he screamed and came all over the bed sheets. They had sex everywhere: Kouki propped up against the fridge, legs over Seijuro's shoulders- in the shower, with Kouki turned around and desperately trying to grab hold of the shower wall and steady himself- on the floor beside the bed, after Seijuro had pounded so intensely that they slid up and off, tumbling into a sweaty heap on the floor where they laughed and continued- against the front door, bent over the coffee table, squeezed inside the small closet.
They had both lost count of how many times they'd come on each other- on chests, faces, hands, into open mouths or while already deep inside the throat. Sometimes Seijuro would start coming inside Kouki, and then pull out and lift it up, spilling a trail up the boy's chest as it poured out from his ass as well. Sometimes Seijuro would slam it as hard as he could just before shooting, and it would pool hot and sticky within Kouki. Then he would just lay there, until he was completely flaccid but still inside, and the cum would seep out in large globs from around his member. Sometimes they cleaned up with towels or hand cloths- sometimes Kouki would be ask to clean it up himself, and, though rare, sometimes Seijuro would even clean it up himself, burrowing his tongue into Kouki's worn ass until every drop was gone.
And, despite himself, Kouki became very accustomed to sex. He was still the more submissive of the two- and rarely took the lead in any shape or form- but it felt good. He became so familiar with the way Seijuro smelled- the way he would calmly issue orders before sealing them with a kiss- the way he'd strut around stark naked, unashamed and covered in well tone muscle. They even kept their name code- and Kouki would have been lying through his teeth if he said it didn't give him some form of satisfaction every time he heard Akashi softly moan his name. Though he rarely called out Seijuro anymore, since it had all started to feel good and normal to him. He had, however, caught himself almost saying it just out of sheer pleasure- which was utterly embarrassing to the brunette every time he thought about it.
Seijuro kept some of his own clothes there, and he would wake up rather early the next morning, Kouki would fix him breakfast and he would leave. As he'd mentioned, every now and again he would get a surprise visit, but for the most part it was all scheduled. Kouki even allowed himself to start to feel complacent- he went about each day without any worries or surprises.
Kouki started to wonder if he had finally gotten lucky.
(***)
"Look at the material again, and then give me a somewhat intelligent answer, dumbass."
Makoto's words bit through Kouki, and he flinched before grabbing the text book in front of him and reading through the paragraph again.
His tutor sighed and leaned back against the couch, long dark hair framing a condescending and pale face. They were both sitting on the floor on either side of the coffee table, which had been covered in text books and study materials. Kouki rarely answered Makoto's questions correctly- but mostly because the guy like the phrase them in confusing or misleading ways. He seemed to gain a significant amount of pleasure from making Kouki look like an imbosile. But it didn't really bother Kouki that much- after all, Makoto was much smarter then he would ever even dream of being.
On top of that, Makoto worked for Seijuro, and was obviously aware about the arrangement. Kouki secretly feared that if he ever talked back, Makoto would bring that up- and it was something much too embarrassing for him to ever want to actually talk about with a third party.
So he continued trying to figure out exactly what Makoto wanted him to get from text without complaint. He felt eyes looking at him, and so he glanced back up, blushing when he saw the strange stare Makoto was giving him. "Wh-what is it?"
"You know, I get it," Makoto mused, stretching his legs underneath the coffee table. "At first, I couldn't see it, but now I do."
"See…what?"
"Why Mr. Akashi likes fucking you."
Kouki nearly dropped the text book in shock, scooting back instinctively and looking back at the other boy with a hot red face.
Makoto flashed an evil looking smile and moved to crawl towards him. "It's exactly this- your pathetic little face right now. Wide eyed and helpless- it's a good look for a fuck toy."
A pale hand reached up to Kouki's face and stroked it slowly. Kouki shivered at the sensation and attempting to scoot further away, but his back hit the front of the armchair behind him. "Stop, Makoto…"
The guy only frowned and furrowed his thick eyebrows, leaning in even closer and placing his second hand dangerously close to the crotch of Kouki's sweat pants.
"Come on, I've been tutoring you for two months now, forced to look at this plain face of yours," he chuckled and bit at the tip of Kouki's nose. "I should get a reward too."
Kouki breathed, unable to process the sudden come on. He turned his face to look away and whispered under his breath, "Sei..juro-"
"That little shit can go fuck himself!" Makoto snapped, grabbing onto Kouki's jaw and forcing him to look him in the face again. "I've been working for his family for way too long. They're all stuck up little shits who think they control the world. Besides, I have even better leverage."
Kouki wasn't sure what Makoto had meant by that, but he didn't have much time to think about it before Makoto went in for the kiss, sucking sloppily at the brunette's lips and inching his hand closer and closer to the lump growing in Kouki's pants.
The boy reached up and pushed both hands against Makoto's chest, trying to push him off, but Makoto pressed forward, pinning Kouki between him and the heavy armchair. His hands still struggled against the chest, and then he swiftly brought up one knee and pushed as hard as he could.
Makoto lifted off him, but seem completely unphased- before Kouki could stand up, he'd grabbed onto his wrists and pulled him back down and underneath him completely.
"Trust me, you're going to want to be a good boy today, Kouki," he cooed, licking up the side of the smaller boy's face with a long, cold tongue.
"G-get off!"
"Oh? Then should I call a certain Shoichi Imayoshi to straighten you out a bit?"
Kouki froze- fear swelling up from inside him at lightning speed and then bursting throughout every limb- he couldn't move an inch. He just laid there and looked up into Makoto's dark, sparkling eyes and felt the old feeling of dread and panic creep from behind each beat of his heart.
Shoichi Imayoshi.
The very name was something Kouki had tried to erase completely from his mind- but upon hearing it, Kouki felt like he'd been thrown back to the state he'd been left that night weeks ago. Broken, terrified, and suicidal.
"That's right, I know all about that," Makoto whispered, his voice drenched in pleasure. "Mr. Akashi looked around for a long time trying to figure out who'd raped you. When he got the name, he sent several men to find him. Shoichi suffered one hell of a beating for that, you know. And now, he's pissed as hell."
Makoto trailed his tongue down Kouki's neck, and dove one hand inside the boy's boxers to wrap skinny fingers around his cock. "How do I know this? Because I happen to be a very good friend of Shoichi's. We even went to school together for a bit. When he asked if I knew anything about Mr. Akashi and a certain boy named Kouki- I couldn't believe my ears!"
He laughed against Kouki's wet neck, and then lifted back up to look him squarely in the eye. "That's right. Shoichi's looking for you- wants to hit Mr. Akashi back, right where it hurts. I'm almost jealous! He's going to show you one good time when he figures out where you are."
Kouki just stared back, still unmoving. Tears formed up and spilled from his eyes, and his breathing was hitched, barely making it out his mouth and back in.
"Of course," Makoto continued, licking Kouki's mouth teasingly, "I could've told him where you were right then and there. But I didn't. In fact, I gave him misinformation to stall his search. Ah! Aren't I so nice!"
He then kissed him full mouthed again, his other hand starting to jack Kouki with a hard pace. "Bottom line is, Kouki darling," he mused between wet kisses, "that I could call have Shoichi here within thirty minutes. But instead, I suggest you show me a good night."
It was then that Kouki broke down- finally moving from his frozen state only to cry out in broken sobs. His body shook with his tears, and Makoto sat up quickly, a pissed look on his face.
"You could at least save the tears for when I'm fucking you, shitface."
It was then that they heard keys in the front door.
Both boys were startled, and scrambled away from each other before Seijuro Akashi casually walked in the door. He was dressed more casually than usual, and there was an uncharacteristic skip in his step. He turned at looked at the both, his eyebrows twitching with anger and his eyes opened slightly too wide.
"I thought you didn't come on Tuesdays," Makoto squeaked out, adjusting his legs in a failed attempt to hide his boner. Kouki just stared at the ground, tears streaming down his face and his body still trembling.
"I thought you were smart enough to know that disobeying me is a big mistake, Makoto," Akashi growled, a smile spreading over his face.
Makoto flinched, looking away stubbornly. He knew that trying to lie to Akashi was pointless- the man could always tell. Besides, Akashi was scarily perceptive- all it took was one look at the two of them for him to know. To make matters worse, he seemed to already be in a weird mood- he'd never seen that vibrant of an expression on Akashi's face ever before. Makoto bit the inside of his lip and mumbled, "Well I didn't think you'd be here."
"Well isn't Seijuro one lucky bastard, because I decided to come surprise our dear little Kouki today," Akashi replied, walking over to the toy guys and lacing fingers into the brown hair atop Kouki's head.
Kouki flinched, surprised by the action- he, too, could tell something was off about Seijuro. He was acting like he had back that one day- it was scary.
"But don't worry, Makoto, I'll forgive you. I understand why you'd be tempted- Kouki's been well trained into a proper slut. He even cooks and cleans!" Akashi said softly, pulling the hair backwards until Kouki's head was leaning back awkwardly. Kouki winced, and then gagged as Akashi dipped the fingers of his free hand into his mouth.
"In fact, I'm glad that I have employees with good taste." The fingers spread and searched inside Kouki's throat, and the boy moaned against them as drool pooled out from his mouth. Why is Seijuro acting like this again? Does he always get this way when he's angry? Kouki clenched his eyes shut, mortified.
As he fucked Kouki's mouth with his fingers, Akashi leaned down and planted a kiss on the boy's forehead before looking back over at Makoto, who was sitting awkwardly away from them. "Here's your choice, Makoto. Either you leave know and I fire you and do everything I can to make you miserable- or you stay put and watch me make Kouki mine."
Makoto gave him a disdainful smirk, but stayed sitting. After a few seconds, Akashi chuckled.
"Smart choice."
When he finally took his hands out of Kouki's mouth, Kouki gasped and reached forward, holding on to Akashi's saliva covered fingers. "Wa-wait, Seijuro-"
But Akashi cut him off, pushing him onto his stomach and pinning his face to the carpet.
"Shhh, shh, I'm trying to teach someone a lesson here, so be good and quiet."
Kouki panicked, still mumbling against the floor but gave up when it elicited a hard slap against his ass. It made him feel sick- Seijuro never behaved that way with him. It felt foreign- like the way it felt when Shoichi or Makoto had touched him.
Kouki hated it- and even worse he had something important to say. He needed to warn Seijuro that Shoichi was looking for him- but instead he remained quiet, afraid to anger this side of Seijuro any further.
Akashi positioned Kouki onto his knees, and pulled his sweat pants and boxers down just far enough to reveal his ass and cock. He placed one on the back on Kouki's neck, ensuring that his face stayed smashed against the floor while the other caressed his backside and teasingly poked at his member. Kouki's stomach muscles contracted and burned with the pleasure of it- his body disobeying his mind.
Akashi grabbed ahold of Kouki's growing erection and started to pump him slowly, applying intense amounts of pressure as the skin slipped up and down. Kouki gasped at the sensation and wiggled, his back arching despite himself.
"See? See how much Kouki wants me?" Akashi chuckled, before leaning forward and biting on the lobe of Kouki's ear. Makoto shifted, frowning as he watched Kouki twitch underneath the redheaded man, ass perked and eager- though his face looked devastated, all smushed against the ground. The hand around his neck slid back along his spine and then grabbed tightly onto his hip, digging nails into the sensitive skin. Kouki could feel an orgasm coming, burning in the pit of his stomach. Akashi sped up, moving his hand quicker and quicker until Kouki was loudly moaning and his toes curling behind him.
He came, shooting out all over Akashi's hand, which elicited a short moan from the man. He lifted his hand up, admiring the white sticky liquid dripping down his fingers. Wasting no time, he rubbed that very hand against Kouki's opening, using the boys own cum as lubricant as he pride his ass open.
As he was scissored, Kouki gasped- still feeling the after shakes of his climax. The fingers spread and closed within him, slipping in further and further with every push. Kouki's ass welcomed them, clenching again and again as they moved back and forth within him.
The boy swallowed, and moved his hands to cover his face. He couldn't believe he was being teased like this in front of someone else- it wasn't something he would've ever guessed Seijuro would want to do. But Kouki was starting to wonder if the man finger fucking his ass was Seijuro at all?
Lost in thought, Kouki was shocked when he felt Akashi's cock line up and dive into him, arrowing upwards in one divesting jerk. He gasped, his head leaning up as his body was pushed forward, closer to Makoto. "Ah—ah!"
Akashi growled with pleasure from behind him, and grabbed onto both hips in order to gain better leverage as he fucked Kouki's opening, with pounding, ravenous stoke. The skin clashed together, the slapping sound filling the entire apartment.
With each thrust, Kouki sighed and moaned, helpless but to feel the pleasure of it as it sunk deeper and deeper within him.
"Ah…Wa-…wah! Ah! Hng!"
The speed picked up even more, and Kouki felt a hand grab into his hair and force his face upwards, until it was tilted right up at Makoto's.
The dark haired boy was staring back at him, wide eyed and lustful. It was obvious that it was taking every bit of will power he had to sit back and just watch- his erection full and twitching underneath his pants.
Kouki started to cry, utterly mortified by being watched. The hand pulled even tighter and his ass was fucked even faster and harder, until Kouki couldn't help but cry out in lustful wails.
"Ahhhh! Hah..hahh..Ah! Ac-Ah!"
"See this? Look at his face, Makoto- it's the face he makes for me when I'm fucking his ass. Those are the noises he makes for me. Those are the tears he cries for me. Remember them," Akashi whispered, his voice low and husky as he put most of his energy into fucking Kouki as roughly as he could, "because you'll never see them again."
Kouki's own erection had grown once more, and was about ready to burst for a second time. He struggled to keep it in as the pleasure of the stretch ached through his stomach and caused the muscles of his legs to clench and tense. His cock flung forward with each stroke, desperate for friction.
When Akashi finally sighed and blew his load, filling up Kouki's opening so deep that Kouki felt it would come dripping out of his mouth- the brunette came himself, sending a second pile of cum squirting out onto the floor.
As Akashi finally loosed his grip and let Kouki's head down, he caught sight of a stain growing on Makoto's pants- the boy had cum too- just from watching.
Kouki curled into a ball as Akashi stood up from over him, and covered his face with his hands. While the smell and the feeling had been mostly the same, there had been something markedly off about the sex. Kouki could no longer shake the bad feeling as he came off of his pleasure high. That was not sex with the Seijuro he was used too- it was like some sort of hybrid of the Seijuro he was familiar with and something completely foreign entirely.
Are there…two Seijuro's?
(***)
Hope you enjoyed it!
I wasn't planning on adding Hanamiya into this, but eh you know? Sometimes things happen? Haha.
Thanks for reading! Next chapter will be interesting, and introduces another character into the story! (Hint: it's a girl with short brown hair!)
