Walking Thin Lines
Title: Walking Thin Lines
Rating: R
Warnings: Badtouch/molestation, non-con (no penetrative sex)
Pairing: Karasu/Kurama
Summary: Karasu, the new chemistry teacher, has Kurama stay back after school.
Note: For the yyh_kinkmeme . My excuse for the requested OOC is that it’s AU.
Like you didn't know it was me who wrote this already....
--
Walking Thin Lines
--
“Kurama?”
“Yes, Sir?”
“Kurama, I already told you that you can call me Karasu whenever you like.” A hand lay over the back of Kurama’s chair and long black hair slid over Kurama’s shoulder, spilled down like a dark waterfall from Kurama’s shoulder to the desk. It reflected almost amber in the afternoon sun, so close to setting and giving leave to the stars of night.
“Karasu, then,” Kurama amended, placing his arms on his table and facing forward. He was slightly tense, his shoulders tight and yet his face was expressionless.
Not that Karasu, the new chemistry teacher, would be able to tell with the way he was almost leaning over him, their cheeks almost touching. An arm passed over Kurama’s other shoulder and tapped at Kurama’s textbook, a specific paragraph in particular. “Kurama, are you having problems with this particular area? You’ve shown a marked decrease in your grades as of late.”
Kurama’s expression soured only a little. Because I can’t even look at the textbook without feeling sick.
“No, sir. Karasu. I will work harder to keep my grades up.”
“There’s a good boy,” Karasu purred in his ear, and that arm retreated back over his shoulder, only to pause as fingertips reached his collarbone.
Kurama could feel the curve of Karasu’s smile and the pleased little ‘hm’ sound he made. He fought back a shudder, the wretched kind of feeling that came with every time Karasu kept him back in his classroom after he’d finished his after school groups.
Karasu’s arms came around him, as if to hug him, but no. They went for his jacket instead. Working from the neck, ever so slowly, button by button, material smoothed and savoured along the way, Karasu undid his jacked, pushed it open until there was only his undershirt beneath. That too was slowly unbuttoned, but only halfway. Skin against skin, Karasu’s fingers sliding to the edge of his neck, down further under the white fabric of his shirt.
Kurama couldn’t hide his shudder this time, or the way he jumped as Karasu’s fingertips and long nails brushed against a nipple. His large palm, warm and sickening, flattened against his chest and squeezed lightly at his pectoral. “Shh, shh, shh,” Karasu hushed gently, licking his lips and pulling Kurama’s hair back from his neck. “You’re such a handsome boy, Kurama, I wouldn’t want such a pretty thing like you to get into trouble.”
Kurama’s eyes widened. “In trouble-ah!”
Fingertips eased the sting on Kurama’s recently pinched nipple and then began to roll lightly, sending delightful little jabs of arousal right down to Kurama’s cock, no matter how much he just wanted to deny it all. Karasu’s lips pressed against his neck, they parted and a hot tongue lanced over sensitive flesh. Kurama whimpered.
“Well,” Karasu began, his breath making his saliva-slick neck cold, the rest of it warm. It made the hair on the back of his neck rise. He swallowed thickly. “There are a number of things I could tell your mother, wouldn’t she just be ashamed to discover that her son is failing chemistry, when he needs it to get into Tokyo U. Or perhaps that he’s being a little slut and carrying around all sorts of dirty things in his bag...”
Fucking pervert...
Karasu’s hand stilled on his chest for a moment, and then his other hand released his hair. He felt the teacher crouch down behind him, and Karasu’s hand trailed down his shirt’s row of buttons to the waistband of his pants. It wandered further, two fingers walking along the slight protrusion in his pants. The hand was so big compared to Kurama’s, he felt as if those long fingers and palm, pressed against him as they were, massaging, would be his end. Every time.
“A-Karasu...” Kurama tipped his head back, closed his eyes, bit his lip. His hands on the desk clenched into fists.
“This is your payment for my silence though, isn’t it? You need a spotless record now, to get exactly where you want to go. Especially since you were expelled from your last school...” Karasu made a soft tsking sound and then seemed to sigh as he worked a hand beneath Kurama’s waistband.
Kurama made a soft sound. A 'ghnn' of denial and despair. Karasu's fingers curled, and Karasu himself made a soft sound of his own. A coo, a gentle little chuckle that made Kurama shudder with distaste.
"This will get you your spotless record," Karasu husked, pushing Kurama's waistband down enough to free Kurama's cock and balls. Such a pretty thing. Karasu seemed to lament that he couldn't see it all that well, however. His hands retreated, he stood.
Kurama, rather than breathing a sigh of relief, thinking it was over, only tensed further. He knew it wasn't over for today. Not until he came. Karasu hadn't nearly tormented him enough yet.
His chair scrapped along the linoleum flooring as Karasu pulled him back from his desk, moved around to kneel before him so he could look up at Kurama. Worse yet, Kurama had to see the sick look of perverse pleasure on Karasu's face, the curve to his lips, as he took his cock back in hand, as the other long fingered and oddly cold touch seeped through the pants of his uniform on his leg. Knees nudged apart, Karasu settled himself.
"Something about you is...perverse, Kurama. Where you a whore in your last life? Hm? Is that why your friends call you Kurama instead of your birth name? Do you let other men touch you?" Karasu demanded, though his tone was even and almost teasing. His eyes were fixed on his hand as he drew it up Kurama's cock, by now coaxed to hardness with touch like any self-respecting teenager's would.
The side of his forefinger and thumb rolled over the head of his cock, playing with the foreskin over his most sensitive place. Kurama clamped his eyes shut, clutched at the sides of the chair, since the desk was too far out of reach now. "No," he denied, vehement. "Must you ask me such things? It's not part of the deal."
Karasu squeezed his dick in a decidedly unpleasurable way and Kurama's eyes flew open. He hadn't realised he'd closed them. He stared at Karasu, the expression on his face all too readable.
Karasu gave him a polite little smile and released his tight grip, allowing Kurama a sigh of relief. "It is now," Karasu said. "I changed the rules. Play along or I'll do so again."
Kurama kept his mouth shut.
"Good." Eyes narrowing a little as Karasu smiled, Kurama gulped and took a sharp breath as Karasu leaned forward, angled his cock down to his lips. He drew the small pool of precome on the tip across his lips, licked the fluid from them with a purely satisfied pleasure. "Now, don't make a sound."
Kurama nodded curtly, already knowing what was coming.
Karasu's head lowered and Kurama stared at the top of Karasu's head, the black curtain of hair, as wet heat enveloped his cock, drew all the way down. He could feel Karasu's tongue and the pressure of his lips sealed around his cock. The sounds were, perhaps, just that little bit worse due to the fact that they seemed all the more loud, sharp, because of their location; the gentle suck that made obscene noises as Karasu pulled back, the clock on the wall ticking, the sound of laughter outside the open window that blew cool air along his heated skin.
He bit his lip, bolted his eyes closed to block out the fact that it was a teacher who was doing thing to him, someone whom he'd entered in a contract with to reach his own desires. Failed miserably, he had. He'd thought he could handle it, but he'd miscalculated just how much he'd thought this would affect him, how perverse and depraved Karasu really was. It wasn't just lingering touches in class anymore, requests to come see him in lunch or one single affair.
Kurama had thought he'd just have to give Karasu a blowjob or something, then that would be it. But no, Karasu had taken that inch and seemed to intend to drag it into eternity.
His thoughts derailed and his breathing hitched, his hands clenched at the plastic sides of the chair a little tighter. Karasu's tongue was abusing the head of his cock, licking along that oh so sensitive place that his foreskin usually protected and hid. It was so sharp, so pleasurable that it was nigh painful.
His orgasm loomed for only a second, and then he came without much warning or any at all. He strangled his cry, smothered it with one of his hands over his mouth, his eyes open and unseeing at the ceiling of the classroom. His hips were moving, he realised, jerking into Karasu's mouth, and Karasu was gripping at his ass, helping him.
One last, strong suck that made Kurama whimper as his hand fell away and Karasu pulled off his cock, licked his lips to break the string of come that connected his lips to Kurama's slowly softening cock.
He set him back down in the chair, chuckled. "Hm, good boy."
Kurama tipped his head down, looked at Karasu with something bordering on several emotions. Right now his afterglow felt all the more worse because it had been brought on by such a depraved man. It felt wrong.
Karasu was shifting, standing, and then he was leaning over Kurama, his height making him tower over Kurama. Arms boxed him in as Karasu rested his hands on the table behind Kurama and leaned forward. He drew close, and Kurama didn't move his head to the side or draw his lips back in a disgusted grimace like he wanted to. He let Karasu's lips press against his, shuddered in light revulsion at how they were wet as they worked against his own lips. Salty. His own come.
Karasu's tongue came soon after, licking at his lips and then further in. It was purely dominating, forcing itself against his own tongue and leaving him with no desire to join in. He let the man take his mouth with all the enthusiasm he liked, let him touch and fondle and suck and fuck his body, but he would not give him a kiss. He would not respond. It was the one thing he could truly deny any kind of reaction to (other than disgust) and feel like he'd somehow made a small victory in this little war of theirs.
Karasu drew back, and Kurama took a breath, looked off to the side as Karasu leaned against his desk, crossed his arms over his chest. He didn't want to look forward and see the evidence of how aroused this made Karasu, and he knew he would see it. Karasu would delight in showing it to him, like he had last time. Making him touch it as he urged him on, hissed all sorts of strange and odd things.
"Is that all?" Kurama asked, lifting his hips and working his pants back up. Karasu's saliva was drying on his cock, it felt horrid to feel that even when he'd tucked himself inside his underwear and done his uniform up properly. He re-popped all the buttons Karasu had undone.
"Yes," Karasu said, pushing off the desk and standing properly, turning to walk back to his desk at the head of the class. His hair swayed behind him gently, like a kind of cape of dark, inky black. Just like his soul would be, just like his conscience. Black with all his misdeeds and sick fetishes, like a charred, pure-white surface. He waved a hand over his shoulder, a flick of his fingers, a dismissal. "You can go."
Kurama busied himself with picking up his bag and pushing his chair in, making sure he was presentable while Karasu sat in his chair, the leather creaking as he did so.
Kurama made his way to the door, and was half-way out before Karasu's voice stopped him. "Kurama..."
He paused. Swallowed thickly. He turned his head a little, felt the hair on the back of his neck rise again. "Yes?"
"Tomorrow, after you've done your cleaning duties, meet me here." Karasu's voice was full of nothing but delight. Kurama could hear the quiet metallic clink of a belt being unbuckled, the hiss of a zip being drawn down.
Kurama turned back to face the wall of the corridor before him, pushed down the urge to dry heave. "Yes," he intoned, waited a moment more.
"That's all." Breathless, pleasure filled.
Kurama took one step into the hall and slid the chemistry classrooms door closed behind him, clenched the handle of his schoolbag tight in his hand as he made his way down the corridor. It was dark, the sun having set, and Kurama wanted nothing more than to go home, shower, try to keep some food down and then sleep. Sleep it all away.
Rating: R
Warnings: Badtouch/molestation, non-con (no penetrative sex)
Pairing: Karasu/Kurama
Summary: Karasu, the new chemistry teacher, has Kurama stay back after school.
Note: For the yyh_kinkmeme . My excuse for the requested OOC is that it’s AU.
Like you didn't know it was me who wrote this already....
--
Walking Thin Lines
--
“Kurama?”
“Yes, Sir?”
“Kurama, I already told you that you can call me Karasu whenever you like.” A hand lay over the back of Kurama’s chair and long black hair slid over Kurama’s shoulder, spilled down like a dark waterfall from Kurama’s shoulder to the desk. It reflected almost amber in the afternoon sun, so close to setting and giving leave to the stars of night.
“Karasu, then,” Kurama amended, placing his arms on his table and facing forward. He was slightly tense, his shoulders tight and yet his face was expressionless.
Not that Karasu, the new chemistry teacher, would be able to tell with the way he was almost leaning over him, their cheeks almost touching. An arm passed over Kurama’s other shoulder and tapped at Kurama’s textbook, a specific paragraph in particular. “Kurama, are you having problems with this particular area? You’ve shown a marked decrease in your grades as of late.”
Kurama’s expression soured only a little. Because I can’t even look at the textbook without feeling sick.
“No, sir. Karasu. I will work harder to keep my grades up.”
“There’s a good boy,” Karasu purred in his ear, and that arm retreated back over his shoulder, only to pause as fingertips reached his collarbone.
Kurama could feel the curve of Karasu’s smile and the pleased little ‘hm’ sound he made. He fought back a shudder, the wretched kind of feeling that came with every time Karasu kept him back in his classroom after he’d finished his after school groups.
Karasu’s arms came around him, as if to hug him, but no. They went for his jacket instead. Working from the neck, ever so slowly, button by button, material smoothed and savoured along the way, Karasu undid his jacked, pushed it open until there was only his undershirt beneath. That too was slowly unbuttoned, but only halfway. Skin against skin, Karasu’s fingers sliding to the edge of his neck, down further under the white fabric of his shirt.
Kurama couldn’t hide his shudder this time, or the way he jumped as Karasu’s fingertips and long nails brushed against a nipple. His large palm, warm and sickening, flattened against his chest and squeezed lightly at his pectoral. “Shh, shh, shh,” Karasu hushed gently, licking his lips and pulling Kurama’s hair back from his neck. “You’re such a handsome boy, Kurama, I wouldn’t want such a pretty thing like you to get into trouble.”
Kurama’s eyes widened. “In trouble-ah!”
Fingertips eased the sting on Kurama’s recently pinched nipple and then began to roll lightly, sending delightful little jabs of arousal right down to Kurama’s cock, no matter how much he just wanted to deny it all. Karasu’s lips pressed against his neck, they parted and a hot tongue lanced over sensitive flesh. Kurama whimpered.
“Well,” Karasu began, his breath making his saliva-slick neck cold, the rest of it warm. It made the hair on the back of his neck rise. He swallowed thickly. “There are a number of things I could tell your mother, wouldn’t she just be ashamed to discover that her son is failing chemistry, when he needs it to get into Tokyo U. Or perhaps that he’s being a little slut and carrying around all sorts of dirty things in his bag...”
Fucking pervert...
Karasu’s hand stilled on his chest for a moment, and then his other hand released his hair. He felt the teacher crouch down behind him, and Karasu’s hand trailed down his shirt’s row of buttons to the waistband of his pants. It wandered further, two fingers walking along the slight protrusion in his pants. The hand was so big compared to Kurama’s, he felt as if those long fingers and palm, pressed against him as they were, massaging, would be his end. Every time.
“A-Karasu...” Kurama tipped his head back, closed his eyes, bit his lip. His hands on the desk clenched into fists.
“This is your payment for my silence though, isn’t it? You need a spotless record now, to get exactly where you want to go. Especially since you were expelled from your last school...” Karasu made a soft tsking sound and then seemed to sigh as he worked a hand beneath Kurama’s waistband.
Kurama made a soft sound. A 'ghnn' of denial and despair. Karasu's fingers curled, and Karasu himself made a soft sound of his own. A coo, a gentle little chuckle that made Kurama shudder with distaste.
"This will get you your spotless record," Karasu husked, pushing Kurama's waistband down enough to free Kurama's cock and balls. Such a pretty thing. Karasu seemed to lament that he couldn't see it all that well, however. His hands retreated, he stood.
Kurama, rather than breathing a sigh of relief, thinking it was over, only tensed further. He knew it wasn't over for today. Not until he came. Karasu hadn't nearly tormented him enough yet.
His chair scrapped along the linoleum flooring as Karasu pulled him back from his desk, moved around to kneel before him so he could look up at Kurama. Worse yet, Kurama had to see the sick look of perverse pleasure on Karasu's face, the curve to his lips, as he took his cock back in hand, as the other long fingered and oddly cold touch seeped through the pants of his uniform on his leg. Knees nudged apart, Karasu settled himself.
"Something about you is...perverse, Kurama. Where you a whore in your last life? Hm? Is that why your friends call you Kurama instead of your birth name? Do you let other men touch you?" Karasu demanded, though his tone was even and almost teasing. His eyes were fixed on his hand as he drew it up Kurama's cock, by now coaxed to hardness with touch like any self-respecting teenager's would.
The side of his forefinger and thumb rolled over the head of his cock, playing with the foreskin over his most sensitive place. Kurama clamped his eyes shut, clutched at the sides of the chair, since the desk was too far out of reach now. "No," he denied, vehement. "Must you ask me such things? It's not part of the deal."
Karasu squeezed his dick in a decidedly unpleasurable way and Kurama's eyes flew open. He hadn't realised he'd closed them. He stared at Karasu, the expression on his face all too readable.
Karasu gave him a polite little smile and released his tight grip, allowing Kurama a sigh of relief. "It is now," Karasu said. "I changed the rules. Play along or I'll do so again."
Kurama kept his mouth shut.
"Good." Eyes narrowing a little as Karasu smiled, Kurama gulped and took a sharp breath as Karasu leaned forward, angled his cock down to his lips. He drew the small pool of precome on the tip across his lips, licked the fluid from them with a purely satisfied pleasure. "Now, don't make a sound."
Kurama nodded curtly, already knowing what was coming.
Karasu's head lowered and Kurama stared at the top of Karasu's head, the black curtain of hair, as wet heat enveloped his cock, drew all the way down. He could feel Karasu's tongue and the pressure of his lips sealed around his cock. The sounds were, perhaps, just that little bit worse due to the fact that they seemed all the more loud, sharp, because of their location; the gentle suck that made obscene noises as Karasu pulled back, the clock on the wall ticking, the sound of laughter outside the open window that blew cool air along his heated skin.
He bit his lip, bolted his eyes closed to block out the fact that it was a teacher who was doing thing to him, someone whom he'd entered in a contract with to reach his own desires. Failed miserably, he had. He'd thought he could handle it, but he'd miscalculated just how much he'd thought this would affect him, how perverse and depraved Karasu really was. It wasn't just lingering touches in class anymore, requests to come see him in lunch or one single affair.
Kurama had thought he'd just have to give Karasu a blowjob or something, then that would be it. But no, Karasu had taken that inch and seemed to intend to drag it into eternity.
His thoughts derailed and his breathing hitched, his hands clenched at the plastic sides of the chair a little tighter. Karasu's tongue was abusing the head of his cock, licking along that oh so sensitive place that his foreskin usually protected and hid. It was so sharp, so pleasurable that it was nigh painful.
His orgasm loomed for only a second, and then he came without much warning or any at all. He strangled his cry, smothered it with one of his hands over his mouth, his eyes open and unseeing at the ceiling of the classroom. His hips were moving, he realised, jerking into Karasu's mouth, and Karasu was gripping at his ass, helping him.
One last, strong suck that made Kurama whimper as his hand fell away and Karasu pulled off his cock, licked his lips to break the string of come that connected his lips to Kurama's slowly softening cock.
He set him back down in the chair, chuckled. "Hm, good boy."
Kurama tipped his head down, looked at Karasu with something bordering on several emotions. Right now his afterglow felt all the more worse because it had been brought on by such a depraved man. It felt wrong.
Karasu was shifting, standing, and then he was leaning over Kurama, his height making him tower over Kurama. Arms boxed him in as Karasu rested his hands on the table behind Kurama and leaned forward. He drew close, and Kurama didn't move his head to the side or draw his lips back in a disgusted grimace like he wanted to. He let Karasu's lips press against his, shuddered in light revulsion at how they were wet as they worked against his own lips. Salty. His own come.
Karasu's tongue came soon after, licking at his lips and then further in. It was purely dominating, forcing itself against his own tongue and leaving him with no desire to join in. He let the man take his mouth with all the enthusiasm he liked, let him touch and fondle and suck and fuck his body, but he would not give him a kiss. He would not respond. It was the one thing he could truly deny any kind of reaction to (other than disgust) and feel like he'd somehow made a small victory in this little war of theirs.
Karasu drew back, and Kurama took a breath, looked off to the side as Karasu leaned against his desk, crossed his arms over his chest. He didn't want to look forward and see the evidence of how aroused this made Karasu, and he knew he would see it. Karasu would delight in showing it to him, like he had last time. Making him touch it as he urged him on, hissed all sorts of strange and odd things.
"Is that all?" Kurama asked, lifting his hips and working his pants back up. Karasu's saliva was drying on his cock, it felt horrid to feel that even when he'd tucked himself inside his underwear and done his uniform up properly. He re-popped all the buttons Karasu had undone.
"Yes," Karasu said, pushing off the desk and standing properly, turning to walk back to his desk at the head of the class. His hair swayed behind him gently, like a kind of cape of dark, inky black. Just like his soul would be, just like his conscience. Black with all his misdeeds and sick fetishes, like a charred, pure-white surface. He waved a hand over his shoulder, a flick of his fingers, a dismissal. "You can go."
Kurama busied himself with picking up his bag and pushing his chair in, making sure he was presentable while Karasu sat in his chair, the leather creaking as he did so.
Kurama made his way to the door, and was half-way out before Karasu's voice stopped him. "Kurama..."
He paused. Swallowed thickly. He turned his head a little, felt the hair on the back of his neck rise again. "Yes?"
"Tomorrow, after you've done your cleaning duties, meet me here." Karasu's voice was full of nothing but delight. Kurama could hear the quiet metallic clink of a belt being unbuckled, the hiss of a zip being drawn down.
Kurama turned back to face the wall of the corridor before him, pushed down the urge to dry heave. "Yes," he intoned, waited a moment more.
"That's all." Breathless, pleasure filled.
Kurama took one step into the hall and slid the chemistry classrooms door closed behind him, clenched the handle of his schoolbag tight in his hand as he made his way down the corridor. It was dark, the sun having set, and Kurama wanted nothing more than to go home, shower, try to keep some food down and then sleep. Sleep it all away.