A/N: This has been written for Kinktober 2021 and today's prompt is Pet-play ✨ Due to the nature of this challenge, I've only done the most cursory of proofreads ✌️
Content Warnings: kink negotiated off-screen which could be read as dub-con or a lack of safe practices.
"And he didn't say anything about it? Literally just ghosted?"
"Literally!"
"Dude." Says Choji.
"Dude." Shikamaru agrees, equally grave.
"Even I don't think you're that ugly." Neji adds, helpful as always.
"Thanks."
The thing is Kiba doesn't get hung up. Not over people he's already hooked up with, let alone the ones whose face he hasn't even seen. But there'd been something about this guy, they'd had chemistry. Sure, it'd only been over text, so far, but if they'd gotten on even half as well in person as they did over text- well, he's not sure why anyone would want to throw away the opportunity for what was sure to be a most excellent night. He tells himself not everyone wants to fuck a guy with face tattoos, must be that. Better than it being his face itself, he thinks morosely.
"You'll be fine, man. You're whining about this way too much." Which- uncalled for. He and Kankurō don't even know each other very well, he's pretty sure he's only out with them because he promised his siblings he'd 'make an effort', or something.
"Hey, man, how would you feel if someone saw your face and decided you were too hideous to fuck?" Kiba demands, trying to sound annoyed and not quite so pathetic as he feels, tonight.
"Jesus, I'm sure your face wasn't the problem. Maybe you just weren't his type."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing! It just means people have types. You're not everyone's."
"Fuck you, I'll have you know-"
"Come on, man," Shino cuts in. Kiba looks at him, wounded. His friend knows how much he loves to yell. "You're letting this bother you way too much. I don't know what it is about this guy, but forget it. He ghosted, he's gone, it's not worth the time."
Shino's right, it's an unfortunate habit he has.
Kiba falls into bed, ignores the way the room spins, and pulls out his phone.
New message received
Received: Hey
Kiba leaves him on read and shoves his face into the pillow. His phone vibrates somewhere in his bed a couple minutes later and he manages a valiant thirty seconds before fumbling around angrily to find it.
Received: [Image]
Oh, shit. Shit. It's- that's. Well. At least he knows his tattoos definitely weren't the problem.
Sent: what the fuck?
Sent: is this why you ghosted?
Sent: why didn't you just say?!
Received: And tell the whole table what we've been texting about?
Which, he's definitely just being a dick. He could have texted, could have caught him in the washroom or outside, or-
Received: I'm still down if you are.
He really wishes he had the self-control to at least draw it out a little. Pretend he might really say no, but the picture is good. Really good. He's too tired to kid himself.
Sent: yeah, fuck it
Received: Cool. Saturday, 8pm, I'll leave a key in the window over the door.
It's rude to assume he'll clear his schedule, especially now that they kind of know each other. He tells himself it doesn't turn him on and he definitely isn't going to roll over and jerk off about it as soon as he puts his phone down.
The time on his phone reads 20:07. He's been pacing outside of Kankurō's door for the last five minutes. No one's home and he knows he's got to nut up and go inside if he wants to get everything ready before he gets back but he's nervous in a way he usually isn't. A door flies open down the hall.
"What the hell are you doing?!" A harried old man demands.
"I'm just-"
"Just go inside or get out! Stop pacing around the damn hallway. Don't you know how thin these walls are?" The door slams shut before he has a chance to get a word in edgewise and he figures, alright, fuck it. Nut up or shut up.
The key is right where Kankurō promised it would be.
Standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom, staring at the tailed plug, lube, collar, and leash laid out on the counter in front of him, there's a bout of hysteria building in his chest. He can't help laughing, probably too-loud, if the old man in the hall was anything to go by. Once the laughter dies down he wipes the tears from his eyes and eyes his reflection, wonders if his boxer briefs should stay or go. Really, he's not sure how they'd work with the plug, but he feels uncharacteristically nervous about being so exposed. In the end he drops them, shoves them in the duffle with the rest of his clothes and his phone and kicks it under the sink. He's doing this.
Pushing the plug inside of himself in the empty apartment of an almost-stranger, he's hit with the urge to laugh, again.
A little too tight, he thinks.
He's just laid down on the couch to loosen the collar a notch or two when he hears the deadbolt turn, he freezes. Kankurō comes in carrying a bag of something he doesn't have the wherewithal to think about and without looking at him says "Off the couch." Kiba listens, hyper aware of the plug holding him open as he moves. The rug is soft under his knees, he doesn't know what it is but in the back of his mind he thinks it must have been expensive. His heart is beating about a million miles a minute when Kankurō walks over to him and reaches out to fiddle with his collar.
"Too tight?"
"I'm-" He gives the collar a sharp tug and Kiba catches himself. Nods, biting his lip to keep from speaking.
Kankurō pulls the collar up a bit, from the back so his head stays bowed even as he stretches up for him, and loosens it lightly before letting go, bringing his hand around to scratch at the stubble under his chin. "Good boy." Kiba's cock jumps and heat floods his face, he feels dizzy with it. Maybe he should have tried to keep the briefs, he thinks, when the other man smirks down at him, taking the lead from the table and attaching it to the ring on the front of his collar.
"How about some dinner, boy? Sound good?"
He nods and allows himself to make a small, affirmative sound. Lets himself look visibly excited at the prospect of food. Follows when he's lead across the living room and over to the kitchen table, trying to ignore the way he's already getting hard despite his nerves.
Kankurō lets go of the lead, tells him to sit, stay, and goes into the kitchen to retrieve a box of cereal and two dog bowls from the bag he'd carried in. Kiba has the distant thought that it was nice of Kankurō not to force him to eat dog food, he doesn't know him too well but he wouldn't put it past him. He's not sure whether or not that's disappointing. Something to examine for later.
Once the bowls are placed on the floor in front of him Kiba bends forward and his collar is tugged sharply back. "No. Stay. You eat after I eat." Kiba nods, whines, sees Kankurō's eyes drop down to his cock before leaving again to grab himself something from the fridge. When he returns he kicks lightly at the inside of Kiba's knees, "Sit properly." It takes him a minute to understand, when he does he fights himself not to drop the other man's eyes as he spreads his knelt legs wider so his hands can reach the ground between them. It's humiliating in a way that makes it hard to tell whether it's nervousness or giddiness coiled tight in his belly, especially with the appreciative way dark eyes run down his body.
He waits patiently as he can while Kankurō eats. It's never been his strong suit but he tries his best not to fidget too much, to think about anything besides the way being ignored so blatantly seems to get him going. He's had a suspicion but he's never quite tried it out to this extent. Still, it's a relief when he finishes and gives Kiba permission to eat his own food. The dry cereal is a much needed distraction from the tension running through his body and the throb of his cock. Once he's finished, had a few minutes to work up his nerve, he leans close to nose at Kankurō's hand with thanks, nipping lightly at his palm and grinning up at him as he licks across his lips, tongue grazing his sharpened canines.
"You want a treat, huh? Been a good boy?"
Kiba whines and licks Kankurō's palm, nips gently at his fingertip, satisfied when the older man shudders. It's the first real sign of his own want he's managed to draw out of him.
"Yeah. Yeah, alright, c'mere." He starts undoing his fly and Kiba's face burns with how badly he wants it. He's been teetering on the edge of want and embarrassment since he got here, but Kankurō gets his half-hard cock out and he figures fuck it, what's left to lose. He wants this, the whole thing, the whole bit, just like they'd talked about. He lets his mouth fall open wide, tongue out, panting for it. Lets himself try to nose at Kankurō's cock as he's held back, not yet, not yet, he groans, but never tells him to stop. The fist in his hair, holding him back, tells him he's just as into it as Kiba is. He strains against the hold and grazes the tip of his cock with his tongue, Kankurō shivers.
"Fuck, Kiba. You want it bad, huh boy?" Kiba whines again, strains against the hand holding him back and Kankurō gives.
He surges forward, pressing his nose into the base of him with a deep inhale before licking his way up the side of his swollen cock, messy and wet, appreciating the soft weight of it against his tongue before moving to take the head of him into his mouth. He works him with his lips, dragging his tongue over and around him as Kankurō pets through his hair with both hands, then eases forward. The hot slide of him across his tongue and the strain of his jaw push out all over room for thought as he works himself down his cock, again, again, again. He's aware of how demeaning it is, how bad he wants it, how much he loves having his mouth fucked while Kankurō mutters about what a good boy he is, how hard he's working for his 'treat', not a little patronizing, but it all feels a little abstract, far away in his mind.
The hand in his hair is getting tighter and he pulls off to run his tongue down the bottom of Kankurō's cock and lap gently at his balls. It's not everyone's thing, he knows, but he suspects the other man will appreciate the view and if the way he moans is anything to go by, he's not wrong. He tilts his head and runs his tongue back along him, back and forth, letting his cock drag across his face before taking him back into his mouth with renewed vigor. He's found a rhythm, now, and it's easy to let his mind go quiet and run on the want burning up his chest, making his body ache with tension. He wonders, idly, if Kankurō has noticed how hard he's gotten just from having his cock in his mouth.
He's yanked back a little abruptly, wants to whine about it but he's too busy panting while Kankurō tells him to hold still, keep his mouth open like a good boy so he can jerk off into it. Not much ends up in his mouth, but he lips his lips while Kankurō runs his hand over his face, smearing come into his hair, saying something that Kiba is too turned on to listen closely to.
If it weren't for the persistent undercurrent of arousal keeping him just worked up enough, Kiba would be in danger of falling asleep under Kankurō's hands as he works shampoo through his hair, massaging it into the scalp. He's run the water hot, exactly how Kiba likes it, and it's a fluke but still, he wasn't expecting to feel quite so taken care of in this way. It's definitely doing it for him in more ways than the obvious which might be pause for concern, but he has officially decided that tonight is not the time for any worries which can be foisted off until tomorrow.
Eventually, he crawls out of the bath and Kankurō towels him off, it makes him feel oddly giddy right up until he squeezes the tail tightly with the towel and runs his hand down it, pressing the water from it and tugging at Kiba's rim. He hasn't really felt the stretch of it in a while, but he does now and the pressing need which had subsided in the bath rushes back. The other man runs a hand down his back and does it again. "You like that?" Kiba whines. "C'mon, you can show me how much."
Kiba feels like he might die if Kankurō drags this out much longer. He's on the bed, slumped forward with his ass in the air, fists clenced around the sheets, trying not to come from the sheer fractious need of his own arousal while the other man plays with the plug. Intermittently jerking him off torturously slow and pulling at his lead, just hard enough to make him see stars when he holds it tight for long enough. Kankurō tugs at the plug again, slow, so slow, pulling it just to the widest rim and letting his body pull it back in and Kiba's whole body feels electrified, coiled tight and ready to combust. His heart is rattling in his chest and he can hardly remember to breathe against the force of his want.
It feels like forever before Kankurō finally pulls the plug out, torturously slow, leaving Kiba feeling horribly empty the second it's gone. He hears the click of the cap, the rustle of him getting his own clothes off, tilts his head to the side on the bed to appreciate the view. The other man grins at him when he catches him and he growls in response, allows it to drag out into a groan when Kankurō crawls onto the bed and swats him across the ass. Then, he's pushing in, hot and slick and so, so good after kiba has waited longer than he's ever had to for an orgasm. He starts out going slow, deep, pushing hard like he wants to make sure Kiba feels every inch of him. It's working. It's working really, really well.
He's still got the lead pulled tight when he pitches forward and settles his weight over Kiba's back, other arm coming around to jerk him off, hand still slick with lube. His fist keeps pace with his hips and there's not much Kiba can do but push back and hope he isn't drooling into the sheets with Kankurō's breath hot against his neck and the collar tight around his throat. Kankurō quickens his hips and his hand as he speaks into his ear, low enough that kiba feels the rumble of it against his back when he tells him to come on his cock. He pulls tight on the lead for emphasis and Kiba goes off. Tension pulls his body tight as he finally lets go and comes, sparks flitting across vision clouded by the force of the collar digging into his neck. The strength of it wrings the breath from his lungs, makes his chest burn and his body ache, as bliss burns away anything resembling coherent thought.
It can't have been more than a few seconds though it feels longer, by the time he feels himself himself again Kankurō is shuddering against him, one arm wrapped tight around his waist as the other grips his hip, having let go of the lead and his cock. He can feel the wet heat of his release inside of him and find he rather likes the thought of it. Kankurō pulls back with a groan right as it starts to get uncomfortable and the two of them collapse next to each other on the sheets, doing their best to remember how to breathe again. Kiba rolls onto his back, bringing a hand up to unbuckle the collar and massage at his bruised neck, tender where the edges of the leather have almost cut into the skin.
"Did I go too hard?" Kankurō asks, still breathless. When Kiba tilts his head to look at him he finds he looks satisfyingly dazed, and a little concerned. He ignores the warmth it stirs inside his chest.
"Nah, I'm good. It was good." He breathes with a grin wide enough that he knows it must look a bit stupid. Kankurō grins back and he looks a little stupid, too, so he figures it can't be such a bad thing.
A/N: As always, with this challenge, I wish I'd had time to do more with this! One day.
I'm going to be doing a new pairing (all Naruto) every day this month.
Feel free to say hello in the comments or on tumblr at BitchBot3000 (my fic blog) or GaySasukke (my questionable Naruto sideblog) ✌️