Excite Me, Deny Me, Entice Me (Kink Series)
Title: Excite Me, Deny Me, Entice Me (Kink Series)
Chapters: 1/1
Pairings: Kame/Ueda
Rating: NC 17++
Genre: PWP, smut, fluff (to a certain degree)
Warnings: BDSM, kinks, orgasm denial, harshness, sexual violence, hard smut
Synopsis: Kame hates being the submissive one, but Ueda doesn’t really care.
A/N: Seriously, the whole thing is just smut. Shameless, uncensored, smut.
This is an important meeting.
This is a very important meeting.
Kame’s hand clenches tightly around his black ballpoint pen that creaks softly under the pressure.
This is an important meeting. It’s an important meeting. It’s importantit’simportantit’simportant-
Kame bites his bottom lips hard when his vision blurs once more, a bright white light eating at the edges of his surroundings. He blinks rapidly and takes in deep, controlled breaths through his nose. His eyes feel like someone has just poured a bagful of sand into them, and he tries to stop them from tearing.
When it stops - finally - Kame’s taut muscles relax, and he shifts carefully in his seat, trying to reorient himself, nodding at but not really comprehending his manager’s words. Kame frowns. He needs to focus. This actually is a really important meeting, and he can’t afford to not listen.
Kame scribbles another note down on his pad, ducking his head as he does so.
And then it goes off again.
This time, Kame chokes on his saliva and his entire body stiffens so violently that his chair jerks forwards sharply, scraping against the tiled floor. The piercing screech makes everyone turn to stare at him curiously.
Oh, God.
“Kamenashi-kun?” his manager says, and when Kame can finally lift his head - blinking hard to stop his eyes from rolling back into his head from the buzz that travels from deep inside all the way to his cock, which is straining horribly against the tight denim of his jeans - he sees the older man frowning disapprovingly at him. Kame gulps despite the intense waves of arousal that sweeps through him. KAT-TUN’s manager never boded well will inattention of any sort during meetings of any kind. “Do you need a moment to stretch you legs?”
Kame swallows dryly. It difficult. Very difficult to speak normally with the buzzing that is constantly stimulating his prostate, but Kame has to, because he’s just that dedicated to work. Screw it all to hell, but over his dead body will he give in. “I-I’m fine.” Kame says, his voice higher than normal.
Kame begs for it to stop. It has to stop now. If not, Kame isn’t sure if he can- It stops.
Kame can breathe freely again.
His manager looks more annoyed than worried. “You look rather flushed, Kamenashi-kun,” he says, a deep furrow appearing between his rather bushy eyebrows. “If you are sick, I suggest you sit out of this meeting. Nakamaru-kun can fill you in later.”
Nakamaru, who is sitting on his right turns Kame’s body slightly towards him to inspect his face. “Manager-san is right,” Nakamaru says, looking worried. “You really don’t look good.”
“Kamenashi-kun pushes himself too hard~” Taguchi adds, from across the meeting table. “Have you been getting enough sleep?”
“Sleep has got nothing to do with whether he has a fever or not.” Nakamaru says, and places a hand on Kame’s forehead. Kame jerks away, because he is watching, and if there is anything that he doesn’t like, is too many people fussing over Kame.
“Kamenashi-kun, I suggest you step out of the room if you really are sick. I don’t mean to sound harsh, but you can’t spread it to the other-”
But Kame hastily shakes his head. “No! I mean- I’m not sick. It’s just a little… hot in here.”
There is sudden snort, which is quickly stifled and badly disguised as a sharp cough. Kame immediately snaps his gaze at Ueda, who is slouching in his seat opposite the table next to Taguchi. He has his arms crossed over his chest, one hand curled into a loose fist in front of his lips, which Kame is sure is twisted into one of his sadistic smirks.
“Are you getting sick as well, Ueda-kun?” asks his manager, looking exasperated, but Ueda clears his throat and composes himself easily.
“No. Not at all,” he replies, and Ueda’s face sports his usual bored expression when he meets his manager’s stern gaze. “I don’t get sick that easy. Unlike some people.” His dark eyes drift to look at Kame, locking him in a challenging stare. Kame grits his teeth and glares back.
The bastard.
Ueda doesn’t seem to like the defiant way Kame stares him down, his delicate brows slanting inwards dangerously. Kame realises too late when Ueda’s hand disappears into his jeans pocket. His eyes widen and his body seizes up, fingernails scraping into the wooden table as the stupid toy inside him vibrates harder than before.
Kame is horrified when a strangled yelp slips through his tightly zippered lips and he slips halfway off his chair as his body lurches.
“Okay, seriously now,” Nakamaru says, looking truly concerned. “You sure you’re okay?”
Kame bites his lip hard, and digs his fingers into the edges of the table. He blinks rapidly, keeping his eyes trained on the neatly written characters on the sheet before him - Kame has always been teased about how feminine his writing is - barely registering what they mean with his lungs constricting tightly as the buzzing gets more powerful with each passing second.
10 seconds.
20 seconds…
Why the fuck isn’t he turning it off?
Kame raises his eyes in panic from his notepad and half-glares at Ueda meaningfully. The asshole is sitting poised and relaxed on his seat, expression one of nonchalance and boredom. He meets Kame’s frantic stare with his features schooled expertly into a look of insouciance, a sadistic smile tugging at his lips.
Kame’s pleading gaze is reciprocated in kind as Ueda slowly, deliberately, pushes the slider on the small remote in his pocket higher and higher, until the younger man practically sees stars behind his eyes. The fucking dick. Kame wants to kill him. Kill him and bury his corpse somewhere so deep, no one will ever find it.
“I have- I have to go…” Kame gasps out, and he literally shoots to his feet and bolts out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
KAT-TUN’s manager can only stare at the closed door with an expression of bewilderment on his face. “Uh, I think someone should just check on him…” he says uncertainly, “Consider the meeting adjourned. We can’t really do much without Kamenashi-kun here.” He then collects the messy documents before stowing them safely in his briefcase and leaving the remaining members to deal with the Kamenashi business.
Nakamaru volunteers to take Kame home, but Ueda cuts in almost at once, tone smooth and cool. “I’ll take him home,” he says, and the slight sharpness in his tone catches Nakamaru by surprise. Ueda shrugs. “I’m heading home after this as well anyway. Don’t you have an interview to head off to?”
Before Nakamaru has the chance to answer, Ueda has his duffle bag thrown over his shoulder, and he’s out the door in record time.
Nakamaru blinks. “What’s up with him? Ueda will claw his eyes out before volunteering to drive any of us home. Besides, the way to Kame’s apartment is completely in the opposite direction to Ueda’s place.”
“Kame-chan gets special treatment~” Taguchi says, grinning, his eyes squished into slits. “He always does, especially from Uepi.”
“Ueda never gives anyone special treatment.” Nakamaru says flatly. “A gentleman is the last thing he is and will ever be,”
“For Kame he does~” Taguchi insists.
He doesn’t know exactly just how ‘special’ the treatment that Ueda showers Kamenashi with really is.
///
Kame is at the top of the stairs when the buzzing inside of him stops, leaving his entire body tingling with spasms of pleasure. The phantom vibrations make it difficult to walk in a straight line, and Kame doesn’t trust himself with walking down the stairs.
Just as he allows his sore muscles to unclench and relax, the buzzing starts up again so abruptly, that it causes his knees to crash together and give out. Kame would have toppled down the stairs, hadn’t it been for a strong arm that wraps itself around his waist from behind, catching him just in time.
Kame immediately allows his legs to fold, leaning back into the hard chest and sighing contentedly. Suddenly remembering that he is currently very angry at a certain person, Kame’s drooping eyelids fly open and he spins around to face a very smug looking Ueda.
“I hate you.” Kame declares, cheeks flushed in anger.
“Sure you do,” Ueda drawls. He stands there all composed and freakishly perfect, with his and Kame’s bag slung casually over his shoulder. “C’mon. Let’s go.”
Kame refuses to move even though Ueda’s hand closes around his wrist and tugs lightly. “I hate you.” he repeats, scowling. He doesn’t mean to sound rude, condescending even, but he can’t help it. All Kame can really think of at the moment is to bury his fist into Ueda’s face for embarrassing him - scratch that - humiliating him, in front of their manager no less.
“I hate it when you do that,” Kame says, and yanks at his wrist. “There’s a time and place for you to fool around, but certainly not in the middle a meeting, you asshole!” he hisses sharply.
Ueda shrugs off Kame’s furious tone with a light scoff, rolling his shoulders dismissively. “It’s punishment,” he says simply. “For last week.”
Kame’s mouth falls open. “That again? Are you fucking serious?” He feels like wrapping his fingers around Ueda neck and wringing it. “When are you gonna let it go?”
“After I’ve decided you’ve been punished enough, now shut up and come here.” Ueda pulls harder at Kame’s wrist, and Kame knows that the older man’s patience is wearing thin, but he’s really too riled up to care, even though he knows he knows that he’s currently treading on thin ice.
“No,” he says, and the hostility in his tone surprises even himself. “You’ve had your fun, now get this thing out of me.”
Kame didn’t mean to snap at Ueda, but he realises this it too late, because he’s probably just set Ueda off completely.
Ueda’s expression hardens, and his gaze turns cold and detached as he glares down at Kame. “Don’t make me repeat myself, Kame,” he says, deep baritone filled with such frostiness that Kame shivers. Ueda only uses that tone with him when the latter really is angry. “I’m really not in a good mood right now, and you really should not test me.”
Kame gulps. Ueda’s cold tone stings him sharply, but at the same time, it sends a spark of arousal through him, the feeling of the toy pressing against his prostate just helps push him further toward the edge.
“Now let’s go,” Ueda says sharply. “And don’t you dare contradict me again.”
Ueda’s fingers clamp painfully down on Kame’s wrist, and he practically drags him to the elevator. All this while, Kame’s brain is whirling. He sighs quietly, because if Ueda hears it, Kame will definitely be punished. He really did push boundaries today, Kame thinks. He had glared at Ueda; he had snapped at Ueda and he had defied Ueda, a few of the many things Ueda hated. Kame trembles in both fear and anticipation at the thought of how Ueda would punish him.
When they arrive at the carpark, Ueda walks quickly to his car - a sleek black Merce that matches his personality completely - while pulling Kame along. He throws open the boot and dumps both his and Kame’s duffle bags into it. Kame peers into the spacious storage compartment curiously, and his eyes widen at the assortment of hemp ropes, leather collars, silk straps, steel cuffs, and other seriously kinky toys that Kame has never seen before.
Kame knows that his boyfriend is a complete sadist, and hence, kinky; but he never expected Ueda to be this kinky.
He inhales sharply, a shiver shooting up his spine, but Ueda slams the boot shut before Kame can examine the other strange sex toys. His dark eyes travel over to stare at Kame. “I have other plans for you,” he says cryptically, “Get in.”
Kame obediently slips into the passenger seat, anger and annoyance at Ueda now completely evaporated. Ueda slides in next to him, and sharply slaps Kame’s hands away when he tries to buckle his belt.
“I’ll do it.” he says.
Kame scowls again. “Don’t baby me.” he says, only it comes out in a whine that sounds so immature he looks away quickly. Ueda laughs, and it doesn’t sound kind at all. He roughly grabs at Kame crotch, making him hiss sharply and jerk roughly into the seat.
“Say you’re sorry.” Ueda demands quietly, slender fingers dragging roughly along the bulge in front of Kame’s too-tight pants.
“N-No.” Kame says, and he tries to glare but when a sadistic gleam shutters over Ueda’s already dark expression, he feels his breath hitch in his throat. Ueda kneads the bulge harder and Kame whimpers and tries to cross his legs or squirm away at Ueda’s manhandling, but there isn’t really anywhere he can escape to.
“I’ll fuck you right here, right now, if you don’t stop being such a bitch.” Ueda says lowly, and Kame wants to scream.
“Like it’s my fault,” he hisses, “Get this thing out of me first, then I’ll think about toning down on the bitchiness, because you so fucking deserve it right now.”
Kame squirms uncomfortably in his seat because the vibrating bullet inside of him is pressing at an awkward angle, and it’s actually starting to hurt a little.
When Kame agreed to this kind of relationship with Ueda, he didn’t just jump in headfirst without a plan. There had been discussions upon discussions regarding Ueda’s wants and whether Kame was conformable with it. Ueda had agreed that they were equals, so there was no ‘dominant one’ in the bedroom, and that he would not really do anything that Kame didn’t want him to do - what a load of bullshit.
Kame knows that he’s pushing way too far now, but annoyance, arousal, coupled with anger, and top it all with the way Ueda is literally devouring him with those eyes - fuck - Kame doesn’t really care what flies out of his mouth at the moment.
“You wish,” Ueda laughs derisively, “I’ll give you something to be bitchy about when we get home, and we’ll see how you cope with it, dear, because you know nothing yet.”
And Kame’s eyes grow wide when Ueda pushes the slider of the accursed remote in his jeans pocket all the way to max.
“And don’t you dare come.” Ueda adds loudly over Kame’s moans as he starts up the engine and pulls out of the lot.
///
Kame can barely make it through their apartment door, and Ueda has to literally carry him through the threshold because Kame’s legs are trembling so violently they are totally incapable of supporting his weight any further.
His now fully engorged cock is literally twitching in it’s own inside his jeans, and the rough scraping of the fabric against swollen, sensitised flesh causes Kame to see white behind his eyelids every time. He isn’t sure how he manages it - to not come that is - what with the stupid thing vibrating at full speed against his prostate, constantly sending wave after wave of maddeningly intense pleasure all up and around inside of him.
Kame is a flushed mess when Ueda hauls him into their bedroom, which had been specially designed to cater and to suit Ueda’s personal tastes. The bed is wide - too wide even for them both - and the knobs on the four bedposts are where four identical leather straps are securely fastened to. The steel bar attached to the ceiling that hangs low is one of Ueda favourite toys, but Kame can’t say that it’s the same for him. Regardless, if it makes Ueda happy, Kame is willing - to a certain extent.
But today, the last thing on Kame’s mind is to make the asshole happy in any way because he so hard, so fucking close that he feels as though every time he moves, the sensation just goes straight to his cock, but still, he doesn’t come. He can’t.
Ueda’s punishments vary with his moods. It’s rather unpredictable, but Kame can tell when Ueda is in a good mood, a lousy mood, or a fucking nasty mood, which is when the punishments the man dishes out are normally him ignoring Kame completely for weeks on end until the younger man is nearly driven to tears. However, if Ueda is in a particularly good mood, sex lasts all the way until next morning, and Kame can be sure that there will be no way he can do any dance practise the next day.
Both punishments are equally bad, Kame thinks.
He barely registers it when Ueda dumps him unceremoniously on the bed, reaching into his pocket to turn the toy off before carefully removing it so as to not hurt Kame’s already abused hole. Kame chokes out a sob of relief. Any more, and he’ll probably come before Ueda even started, and that would not have been good.
Kame’s vision is blurry, but he can still make out the swirly patterns on Ueda’s ceiling. Propping himself up with his elbows, he sees Ueda move away from the bed to sit in the fluffy armchair opposite. He relaxes into the backrest, crosses his legs, and folds his arms in front of his chest, dark eyes just watching Kame.
Kame wants to rip his hair out, because what Ueda is doing here is torture.
“Ueda, what the fu-” begin’s Kame, but Ueda cuts him off swiftly.
“Strip.”
Kame looks confused for a for a few seconds, his brain still trying to process his current situation, or perhaps still trying to wrap around the order Ueda had just given him.
“W-Wha-”
“Can’t you comprehend simple orders, Kame? I said strip. Now.”
Kame doesn’t need to be told thrice, but under Ueda’s burning gaze, it’s embarrassing and borderline humiliating to do this. When Kame sits, completely naked on the bed, his cock standing red and hard against his pale skin. Ueda doesn’t say anything, he just watches him so intently that Kame’s face flames. Ueda needs to do something, anything right now instead of sitting there like a retard, because Kame needs to - fuck - he needs to do something now or else he might just combust.
“Okay, now what?” Kame says snappishly, crossing his arms in front of his chest and mirroring Ueda’s bored look the best he can.
Ueda’s lips slowly twists up into a grin. “Now touch yourself,” he whispers, voice unbearably low and deep. Kame moans at the tinges of pleasure that spikes through his body. “Do it.”
It embarrassing. It really, really is; but Kame bites his lips and backs up until he’s propped up against the large pillows, spreading his long, milky thighs and the sight of this makes Ueda’s breath hitch. Kame feels a smug smile pull at his lips. Even though Kame let’s Ueda do whatever he wants; because Ueda is a spoilt brat who can act like an asshole all he likes and still get away with it just because Kame is too forgiving for his own good, there is a part of Kame’s brain that knows Ueda is also in a way, under his mercy.
“Fuck,” he hears Ueda’s strained voice, and his breathing quickly getting higher and higher as Kame deliberately watches him through lusty, heavy-lidded eyes, bending those creamy thighs and exposing his entrance, the puckered skin around it still red and sore from the earlier manhandling. “Fuck,” This time Ueda’s voice literally cracks and ends with a moan, as Kame allows his lashes to lower, before sliding one hand down his chest slowly and deliberately. He takes all the time in the world to walks his fingers down, down, down, past his flat stomach and curl around his throbbing cock.
“God, Kame, go faster.”
Kame whimpers deep in his throat at the want in Ueda’s voice and at the contact of cool skin around his heated cock, and he barely catches Ueda’s broken moan as he watches on. But right now, Kame hardly cares who watches him as he flicks his wrist hard and fast, hand sliding up and down his shaft that is now slick with precome. He spreads his legs wider, bending them until they are pulled up against his chest, as his other hand slide lower and past his butt cheeks, fingering at his entrance.
He can hear Ueda’s laboured breathing, and quiet strangled chants of ‘fuck, fuck, fuck’ over and over as Kame’s slender finger slips past the puckered skin deeper and deeper. “Oh God,” Kame hisses, and throws his head back against the pillows, neck curving into a delicious arc, the sweet, pale column of it glistening with sweat. “Yes, yes, just-”
He doesn’t even know who he’s talking to, but he can hear Ueda moaning freely now, and this just spurs him on. Oh god. He’s close. So very fucking close. His eyes are squeezed shut, and his mouth hangs open, shameless moans flying out and reverberating around the dim room. So close, so closesoclosesoclose- And then his hands are violently ripped away from his body and pinned above his head. The feeling of cold steel closing around his wrists makes his eyes fly open.
Ueda didn’t say they were going to do this. He didn’t ask Kame first, and he must know that if there’s anything Kame hates more than being denied orgasm (again) when he’s this close, is being tied up like some cheap whore.
The cuffs are secured to the head of the bed, to there is no way that Kame can move, even if he wanted to. The whine that escapes from his lips is so bloody immature that Ueda smirks. As the spasms of near orgasm fades away, the spike of anger at being denied release flares inside, and Kame tugs sharply against the cuffs. “What the fuck, Ueda?” he rasps throatily, glaring up at the smug face that hovers over him.
Ueda lets his body settle between Kame’s spread legs, and he dips his head low to catch Kame’s bottom lip, nibbling at the plump flesh. He drags his tongue across Kame’s lips and slips in, swallowing the moans that spill form Kame’s lips as the rough denim of his jean scrape against Kame’s over-sensitised cock. Groaning lowly, he rakes his nails across the tender flesh underside Kame’s thigh, palming the smooth flesh and pushing his leg higher to hang over his shoulder.
“What are you doin-”
Kame feels something cold and tight slide down his cock to the base and he curses audibly. Not that. Anything but that. He’s just been denied release 2 fucking times already. Hasn’t Ueda had his fun? Isn’t he done playing with him like this?
Apparently not.
“Okay, I’m only going to say this once, so you’d better listen up,” Ueda voice quickly switches to take on an authoritative tone that makes Kame swallow. He knows what’s coming next. “The safe word is ‘Nakamaru’, okay? And for Christ’s sake, remember it this time.”
Kame frowns. “I’m not stupid. Of course I’ll remember.”
Ueda rolls his eyes. “That’s not what happened the last time we did this.”
“You had me fucking gagged!”
“That wasn’t anywhere close to being gagged!” Ueda snaps heatedly.
“Why don’t you try having your face shoved into someone’s dick so hard you can barely breathe.” Kame spits.
“You’re pushing boundaries, Kame.” Ueda says, his tone threatening.
“Then don’t blame me for everything that goes wrong with your stupid kinky fuck-time! I try to cooperate, you know. But you never seem to do the same!”
“You agreed to this as well, Kame,” Ueda says, and his voice is rather scary now. Kame suppress the urge to gulp. “Are you really going back on your fucking word now?”
Kame blinks. This is bad. This is bad bad bad bad. Ueda is so not fucking around with him now. This is no longer the playful banter the would have occasionally when Ueda gets too dominant. This fight is real, and Kame just remembers that he is in a very vulnerable position.
“Ueda- don’t-”
But Ueda is already stripping himself down to nothing, covering Kame’s shivering body with his own, hard on chafing against hard on, and Kame moans wantonly despite being scared shitless just moments ago.
Ueda pushes Kame’s leg, which is draped over his shoulder upwards, making the younger man slide deeper into the soft pillows.
“I think you need to be punished. Really, really badly this time, Kame.” Ueda’s voice is sinister, and the coldness that laces his words send sparks of fear up and down Kame’s spine. He squirms uncomfortably, because Ueda is bending his leg too far upwards. He knows he’s flexible, but not this flexible.
“U-Ueda, stop it!” he yelps, and tries to wriggle away, “You’re fucking gonna break my leg off-”
But then Ueda shuts him up by covering Kame’s swollen lips with his own, tongue demanding entrance, and licking wetly all around Kame’s mouth, until the younger man is gasping for breath when Ueda breaks away. Kame knows his face must be so flushed, because it practically feels like it’s on fire. Ueda dips his head low and licks his way from the sweaty column of Kame’s throat to his shoulder.
“Apologise, Kame.” Ueda whispers, hot breath fanning at his sensitised skin. Kame jolts violently when he feels the tip of Ueda’s cock brushing the puckered skin at the entrance of his hole. He whimpers and swallows several times, insides boiling with fear and acute annoyance, his pride rearing it’s ugly head again.
“Fuck you, no!” Kame hisses, and tries to pull his leg away, but then Ueda’s fingers - fuck - those ridiculously long and slender digits just stretch his hole and his cock follows after, shoving straight into him, and Kame screams, before biting down hard onto Ueda’s shoulder, because fuck fuck fuck fuck it fucking hurts.
God, he hates Ueda so much right now. How dare the bastard do this without any lubrication whatsoever? His eyes are clenched shut tight, but Kame can feel the wetness clinging onto his lashes. He can hear Ueda cursing audibly, pulling his shoulder away from Kame’s teeth. It’s coppery and salty, so Kame knows he drew blood, and Ueda is most certainly pissed about it, but he hardly gives a fuck about that now.
Kame’s breath comes out in quick, uncontrolled gasps, mingling with whimpers and short sobs. His entire body is shaking violently and the flaring white behind his eyelids makes it hard to see even after he forcefully cracks his eyes open.
“U-Ueda-” he starts, finding it difficult to speak because it still hurts, fucking hell. “I’m not fucking kidding you, don’t-” a strangled cry is torn from Kame’s throat, and the spasm causes him to yank at the cuffs so hard, Ueda hurriedly reaches up to hold them in place, stopping Kame from possibly hurting his wrists in the process. “-don’t move-”
Kame is surprised by the soft kiss that is planted on his forehead, and he blinks away the tears to see Ueda’s face looming over him. It’s no longer twisted in anger, but the tiny furrow between Ueda’s eyes tell Kame that the man is still annoyed, but worried as well.
“I know, I know. I’m sorry.” he sighs, this time actually sounding apologetic, and lifts one hand to brush the wet bangs from Kame’s face, planting soft, butterfly kisses down Kame’s face and throat. Kissing away the tears and fear. “That was stupid, I shouldn’t have done that no matter how annoyed I am. Does it- does it hurt bad?”
Kame growls. “FUCK, OF COURSE IT DOES, ASSHOLE.”
Ueda laughs lightly, and slowly brushes his fingers along Kame’s shivering sides. “I’m sorry,” he whispers again, and combs a hand through Kame’s damp hair. “Let me make it up to you.”
Kame bites his lip and adjusts his sore back slightly to accommodate to the foreign sensation. “Sure, like that’s gonna make me feel any better.” he snaps, annoyed.
“Oh, you know nothing yet.” Ueda grins, and he begins to move, slowly at first, and Kame’s soft cries begin to hitch, until they become full blown moans, his creamy thigh wrapping around Ueda’s waist, and the other that is thrown over his shoulder digs into the small of Ueda’s back, drawing him in closer.
“Yes, yes, just- right there-”
Ueda groans lowly, as the skin along Kame’s thighs slide erotically around his body, pulling him in deeper, and fuck the heat and velvet tightness is like a vice of silk that presses him around him. Ueda bites his lower lip and thrusts in hard, mouth falling open at the feeling of his cock dragging along the walls of Kame’s insides, so fucking tight and perfect-
He pulls out and shoves in again, picking up the pace, and going faster and faster and faster, until their moans and groans are almost drowned out my the sound of skin slapping against skin. Kame can feel his cock trying to harden again, but that stupid cock ring that Ueda- the asshole.
“Fuck, you’re so-” Ueda begins, his eyes heavy lidded and sweat streaming down his hairline.
Kame just lies there, shoved against the pillows, creamy thighs spread wide with one leg bent over Ueda’s shoulder, eyes unfocused and dilated - all in all, completely undone beneath Ueda.
“-You’re so beautiful.” Ueda finally says, voice a cross between a groan and a growl, and he brushes his hand across Kame’s sweaty forehead, plating a kiss just below his hairline. His hips never, ever, slow down.
Kame is panting more than breathing, face flushed and entire body spasming violently, but he manages a smile, that if anything, turns Ueda on further, “I know,” he says with a playfully. “But I would have much liked it if you had said I look hot, because I know I am, and so do you.”
“You’re a fucking narcissist.” Ueda snorts, and shoves in hard again and again. Tears gather at the corners of Kame’s lids and his cries reach a new octave when Ueda’s thrusts hit a spot that makes his back arch painfully off the pillows, his wrists yanking at the cuffs. “Stop, stop, I can’t-”
“No, I’m not gonna let you come just yet, Kame,” pants Ueda, a teasing grin spreading across his face. “Patience.”
Ueda purposely pushing so far in that his balls stick to Kame’s ass, the tip of his cock nudging at that nub of over sensitised nerves, and Kame flings his head back with a choked cry. “Fuck, please please please I need-”
“Not. Yet.” Ueda grits out, slamming into Kame hard, and pulling out so painfully slow, dragging along Kame’s tight walls, that are constricting and relaxing so much, that when Ueda finally comes, his entire body spasms, and he falls forwards, flat onto Kame’s body.
Kame whines pitifully when Ueda doesn’t remove himself, because it’s starting to get painful and very uncomfortable. “Get out of me, idiot,” he pants, “And get me off, now.”
It takes awhile for Ueda to find his bearings, and he finally pulls out of Kame’s body, tired and spent. That can’t be said for Kame though, who is all hot and flustered, and downright irritated.
Ueda grins sadistically, and he slowly, slowly removes the steel ring around Kame’s cock, which hardens so rapidly, that Ueda hurriedly closes his hand around the base, which sends Kame into a hissy fit.
“Shut up, Kame,” he says, voice low and commanding. “Calm down or I’ll put the ring back on.”
This shuts Kame up effectively, but that doesn’t make him less furious. He glares at Ueda with his lips turned down into the most immature pout Ueda has ever seen, and he wishes that there is a hidden camera somewhere that will show the entire world just how much of a brat Kamenashi Kazuya can be.
But on second thought, maybe not, because Kame, completely undone like this, is for him, and only him to see.
“Okay, I’m going to count to three, and when I do, you can come - but not before, or else.” Ueda says, planting a kiss on the tip of Kame’s nose.
“I hate you.” Is all Kame says in response.
“Au contraire,” Ueda scoffs, “You love me.”
He pumps Kame’s cock hard, and the younger man inhales sharply, his back arching off the covers. “One.” Ueda says, and he takes a few seconds to watch kame’s eyes sealed shut so tight that his lids tremble.
“Two.” Another hard stroke, and Kame yanks on the cuffs so hard Ueda has to have his free hand grab at his wrists.
“Three.” He doesn’t release Kame’s cock, and the younger man’s eyes fly open, staring pleadingly at Ueda, his breath completely non-existent as he holds it, holds it-
Ueda then drags his thumb across the tip of Kame’s cock, “You can come now.”
Kame screams himself to climax, thick spurts of semen dirtying Ueda’s hand and his stomach. Kame’s back is still arched when he stops, before falling back, boneless into the soft pillows, sobbing and panting at the same time.
He feels someone unlocking the cuffs, and his wrists are sore and he’s certain there are welts and abrasions decorating them, because they hurt like hell. He lies there, arms sore, and backside even sorer, when he feels a wet cloth being dragged lightly across his stomach, cleaning away the come.
Ueda is always gentle afterwards, and it’s one of Kame’s favourite parts after a bout of violent sex.
“Life your legs a little, Kame,” Ueda says, and he strokes the bruised thighs. “If I don’t clean you up now, you’re gonna feel like shit tomorrow.”
Kame whines, but he complies, hissing when he feels Ueda wiping down his abused hole. “Ow…”
“Sorry,” Kame shivers at the soft kiss planted on the inside of his thigh. “I’ll get the cream out. Where did you put it again?”
“Bedside….dr’wr…” Kame mumbles, rolling onto his side and burying his face into the pillows. He barely registers the drawer being opened, and Ueda massaging something cold onto the sore and abused skin.
“There is no way you can go to work tomorrow.” Ueda sighs, and almost at once, kame’s eyes fly open and he flips over, looking throughly scandalised.
“As if!” he snaps, “Just because I’m sore doesn’t give me the excuse of- Ow. Ow! Fuck you, stop prodding my hip!”
“You can barely move, idiot,” Ueda scoffs, as he pulls a loose nightshirt on. “There is no way you can do the new choreography without cussing the place down.”
“You do that well enough.” Kame pouts, and turns over, his back toward Ueda.
He scoots over when he feels the mattress dip, and a warm body curls around his own, tucking him into a chest, hard with muscle. Ueda buries his lips into the top of Kame’s head, kissing the damp locks. “I’m sorry,” he says, “Perhaps I was a little unreasonable there.”
Kame laughs softly and presses back into Ueda. “It’s okay. I’m sorry too.”
Ueda wraps an arm around Kame’s waist and pulls him closer. “I guess a meeting isn’t really a good place to fool around. You’re right.”
“Manager-san is going to kill me tomorrow,” Kame says, a little perplexed. “Oh well.”
They lie in comfortable silence for awhile, and Kame thinks that this is rather sweet, when-
“Ueda?”
“Hm?”
“You’re hard. Again.”
“Having your ass pressed against me isn’t a very good idea.”
“Fuck it, you are not screwing me again.”
Ueda whines. “I know, I know. I’ll take care of it later.”
But then Kame decides to play dirty, and it’s in record time that Ueda finds himself lying flat with Kame straddling his waist. He blinks up at the strangely sadistic grin on Kame’s features.
“Uh, aren’t you sore-”
“Who said anything about fucking?” Kame snorts, and he slides lower, and lower, and lower, until Ueda has to prop himself up on his elbows to keep Kame in his line of vision.
“Wait, Kame-”
“Shut up and lie down so I can give you the best head of you life.”
And Ueda thinks that loving Kame is perhaps the best thing that has ever happened to him.
///
///
///
“Hey what are you doing?”
“Calling the fucking cops, of course. It sounds like somebody is torturing some poor animal next door.”
///
Chapters: 1/1
Pairings: Kame/Ueda
Rating: NC 17++
Genre: PWP, smut, fluff (to a certain degree)
Warnings: BDSM, kinks, orgasm denial, harshness, sexual violence, hard smut
Synopsis: Kame hates being the submissive one, but Ueda doesn’t really care.
A/N: Seriously, the whole thing is just smut. Shameless, uncensored, smut.
This is an important meeting.
This is a very important meeting.
Kame’s hand clenches tightly around his black ballpoint pen that creaks softly under the pressure.
This is an important meeting. It’s an important meeting. It’s importantit’simportantit’simportant-
Kame bites his bottom lips hard when his vision blurs once more, a bright white light eating at the edges of his surroundings. He blinks rapidly and takes in deep, controlled breaths through his nose. His eyes feel like someone has just poured a bagful of sand into them, and he tries to stop them from tearing.
When it stops - finally - Kame’s taut muscles relax, and he shifts carefully in his seat, trying to reorient himself, nodding at but not really comprehending his manager’s words. Kame frowns. He needs to focus. This actually is a really important meeting, and he can’t afford to not listen.
Kame scribbles another note down on his pad, ducking his head as he does so.
And then it goes off again.
This time, Kame chokes on his saliva and his entire body stiffens so violently that his chair jerks forwards sharply, scraping against the tiled floor. The piercing screech makes everyone turn to stare at him curiously.
Oh, God.
“Kamenashi-kun?” his manager says, and when Kame can finally lift his head - blinking hard to stop his eyes from rolling back into his head from the buzz that travels from deep inside all the way to his cock, which is straining horribly against the tight denim of his jeans - he sees the older man frowning disapprovingly at him. Kame gulps despite the intense waves of arousal that sweeps through him. KAT-TUN’s manager never boded well will inattention of any sort during meetings of any kind. “Do you need a moment to stretch you legs?”
Kame swallows dryly. It difficult. Very difficult to speak normally with the buzzing that is constantly stimulating his prostate, but Kame has to, because he’s just that dedicated to work. Screw it all to hell, but over his dead body will he give in. “I-I’m fine.” Kame says, his voice higher than normal.
Kame begs for it to stop. It has to stop now. If not, Kame isn’t sure if he can- It stops.
Kame can breathe freely again.
His manager looks more annoyed than worried. “You look rather flushed, Kamenashi-kun,” he says, a deep furrow appearing between his rather bushy eyebrows. “If you are sick, I suggest you sit out of this meeting. Nakamaru-kun can fill you in later.”
Nakamaru, who is sitting on his right turns Kame’s body slightly towards him to inspect his face. “Manager-san is right,” Nakamaru says, looking worried. “You really don’t look good.”
“Kamenashi-kun pushes himself too hard~” Taguchi adds, from across the meeting table. “Have you been getting enough sleep?”
“Sleep has got nothing to do with whether he has a fever or not.” Nakamaru says, and places a hand on Kame’s forehead. Kame jerks away, because he is watching, and if there is anything that he doesn’t like, is too many people fussing over Kame.
“Kamenashi-kun, I suggest you step out of the room if you really are sick. I don’t mean to sound harsh, but you can’t spread it to the other-”
But Kame hastily shakes his head. “No! I mean- I’m not sick. It’s just a little… hot in here.”
There is sudden snort, which is quickly stifled and badly disguised as a sharp cough. Kame immediately snaps his gaze at Ueda, who is slouching in his seat opposite the table next to Taguchi. He has his arms crossed over his chest, one hand curled into a loose fist in front of his lips, which Kame is sure is twisted into one of his sadistic smirks.
“Are you getting sick as well, Ueda-kun?” asks his manager, looking exasperated, but Ueda clears his throat and composes himself easily.
“No. Not at all,” he replies, and Ueda’s face sports his usual bored expression when he meets his manager’s stern gaze. “I don’t get sick that easy. Unlike some people.” His dark eyes drift to look at Kame, locking him in a challenging stare. Kame grits his teeth and glares back.
The bastard.
Ueda doesn’t seem to like the defiant way Kame stares him down, his delicate brows slanting inwards dangerously. Kame realises too late when Ueda’s hand disappears into his jeans pocket. His eyes widen and his body seizes up, fingernails scraping into the wooden table as the stupid toy inside him vibrates harder than before.
Kame is horrified when a strangled yelp slips through his tightly zippered lips and he slips halfway off his chair as his body lurches.
“Okay, seriously now,” Nakamaru says, looking truly concerned. “You sure you’re okay?”
Kame bites his lip hard, and digs his fingers into the edges of the table. He blinks rapidly, keeping his eyes trained on the neatly written characters on the sheet before him - Kame has always been teased about how feminine his writing is - barely registering what they mean with his lungs constricting tightly as the buzzing gets more powerful with each passing second.
10 seconds.
20 seconds…
Why the fuck isn’t he turning it off?
Kame raises his eyes in panic from his notepad and half-glares at Ueda meaningfully. The asshole is sitting poised and relaxed on his seat, expression one of nonchalance and boredom. He meets Kame’s frantic stare with his features schooled expertly into a look of insouciance, a sadistic smile tugging at his lips.
Kame’s pleading gaze is reciprocated in kind as Ueda slowly, deliberately, pushes the slider on the small remote in his pocket higher and higher, until the younger man practically sees stars behind his eyes. The fucking dick. Kame wants to kill him. Kill him and bury his corpse somewhere so deep, no one will ever find it.
“I have- I have to go…” Kame gasps out, and he literally shoots to his feet and bolts out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
KAT-TUN’s manager can only stare at the closed door with an expression of bewilderment on his face. “Uh, I think someone should just check on him…” he says uncertainly, “Consider the meeting adjourned. We can’t really do much without Kamenashi-kun here.” He then collects the messy documents before stowing them safely in his briefcase and leaving the remaining members to deal with the Kamenashi business.
Nakamaru volunteers to take Kame home, but Ueda cuts in almost at once, tone smooth and cool. “I’ll take him home,” he says, and the slight sharpness in his tone catches Nakamaru by surprise. Ueda shrugs. “I’m heading home after this as well anyway. Don’t you have an interview to head off to?”
Before Nakamaru has the chance to answer, Ueda has his duffle bag thrown over his shoulder, and he’s out the door in record time.
Nakamaru blinks. “What’s up with him? Ueda will claw his eyes out before volunteering to drive any of us home. Besides, the way to Kame’s apartment is completely in the opposite direction to Ueda’s place.”
“Kame-chan gets special treatment~” Taguchi says, grinning, his eyes squished into slits. “He always does, especially from Uepi.”
“Ueda never gives anyone special treatment.” Nakamaru says flatly. “A gentleman is the last thing he is and will ever be,”
“For Kame he does~” Taguchi insists.
He doesn’t know exactly just how ‘special’ the treatment that Ueda showers Kamenashi with really is.
///
Kame is at the top of the stairs when the buzzing inside of him stops, leaving his entire body tingling with spasms of pleasure. The phantom vibrations make it difficult to walk in a straight line, and Kame doesn’t trust himself with walking down the stairs.
Just as he allows his sore muscles to unclench and relax, the buzzing starts up again so abruptly, that it causes his knees to crash together and give out. Kame would have toppled down the stairs, hadn’t it been for a strong arm that wraps itself around his waist from behind, catching him just in time.
Kame immediately allows his legs to fold, leaning back into the hard chest and sighing contentedly. Suddenly remembering that he is currently very angry at a certain person, Kame’s drooping eyelids fly open and he spins around to face a very smug looking Ueda.
“I hate you.” Kame declares, cheeks flushed in anger.
“Sure you do,” Ueda drawls. He stands there all composed and freakishly perfect, with his and Kame’s bag slung casually over his shoulder. “C’mon. Let’s go.”
Kame refuses to move even though Ueda’s hand closes around his wrist and tugs lightly. “I hate you.” he repeats, scowling. He doesn’t mean to sound rude, condescending even, but he can’t help it. All Kame can really think of at the moment is to bury his fist into Ueda’s face for embarrassing him - scratch that - humiliating him, in front of their manager no less.
“I hate it when you do that,” Kame says, and yanks at his wrist. “There’s a time and place for you to fool around, but certainly not in the middle a meeting, you asshole!” he hisses sharply.
Ueda shrugs off Kame’s furious tone with a light scoff, rolling his shoulders dismissively. “It’s punishment,” he says simply. “For last week.”
Kame’s mouth falls open. “That again? Are you fucking serious?” He feels like wrapping his fingers around Ueda neck and wringing it. “When are you gonna let it go?”
“After I’ve decided you’ve been punished enough, now shut up and come here.” Ueda pulls harder at Kame’s wrist, and Kame knows that the older man’s patience is wearing thin, but he’s really too riled up to care, even though he knows he knows that he’s currently treading on thin ice.
“No,” he says, and the hostility in his tone surprises even himself. “You’ve had your fun, now get this thing out of me.”
Kame didn’t mean to snap at Ueda, but he realises this it too late, because he’s probably just set Ueda off completely.
Ueda’s expression hardens, and his gaze turns cold and detached as he glares down at Kame. “Don’t make me repeat myself, Kame,” he says, deep baritone filled with such frostiness that Kame shivers. Ueda only uses that tone with him when the latter really is angry. “I’m really not in a good mood right now, and you really should not test me.”
Kame gulps. Ueda’s cold tone stings him sharply, but at the same time, it sends a spark of arousal through him, the feeling of the toy pressing against his prostate just helps push him further toward the edge.
“Now let’s go,” Ueda says sharply. “And don’t you dare contradict me again.”
Ueda’s fingers clamp painfully down on Kame’s wrist, and he practically drags him to the elevator. All this while, Kame’s brain is whirling. He sighs quietly, because if Ueda hears it, Kame will definitely be punished. He really did push boundaries today, Kame thinks. He had glared at Ueda; he had snapped at Ueda and he had defied Ueda, a few of the many things Ueda hated. Kame trembles in both fear and anticipation at the thought of how Ueda would punish him.
When they arrive at the carpark, Ueda walks quickly to his car - a sleek black Merce that matches his personality completely - while pulling Kame along. He throws open the boot and dumps both his and Kame’s duffle bags into it. Kame peers into the spacious storage compartment curiously, and his eyes widen at the assortment of hemp ropes, leather collars, silk straps, steel cuffs, and other seriously kinky toys that Kame has never seen before.
Kame knows that his boyfriend is a complete sadist, and hence, kinky; but he never expected Ueda to be this kinky.
He inhales sharply, a shiver shooting up his spine, but Ueda slams the boot shut before Kame can examine the other strange sex toys. His dark eyes travel over to stare at Kame. “I have other plans for you,” he says cryptically, “Get in.”
Kame obediently slips into the passenger seat, anger and annoyance at Ueda now completely evaporated. Ueda slides in next to him, and sharply slaps Kame’s hands away when he tries to buckle his belt.
“I’ll do it.” he says.
Kame scowls again. “Don’t baby me.” he says, only it comes out in a whine that sounds so immature he looks away quickly. Ueda laughs, and it doesn’t sound kind at all. He roughly grabs at Kame crotch, making him hiss sharply and jerk roughly into the seat.
“Say you’re sorry.” Ueda demands quietly, slender fingers dragging roughly along the bulge in front of Kame’s too-tight pants.
“N-No.” Kame says, and he tries to glare but when a sadistic gleam shutters over Ueda’s already dark expression, he feels his breath hitch in his throat. Ueda kneads the bulge harder and Kame whimpers and tries to cross his legs or squirm away at Ueda’s manhandling, but there isn’t really anywhere he can escape to.
“I’ll fuck you right here, right now, if you don’t stop being such a bitch.” Ueda says lowly, and Kame wants to scream.
“Like it’s my fault,” he hisses, “Get this thing out of me first, then I’ll think about toning down on the bitchiness, because you so fucking deserve it right now.”
Kame squirms uncomfortably in his seat because the vibrating bullet inside of him is pressing at an awkward angle, and it’s actually starting to hurt a little.
When Kame agreed to this kind of relationship with Ueda, he didn’t just jump in headfirst without a plan. There had been discussions upon discussions regarding Ueda’s wants and whether Kame was conformable with it. Ueda had agreed that they were equals, so there was no ‘dominant one’ in the bedroom, and that he would not really do anything that Kame didn’t want him to do - what a load of bullshit.
Kame knows that he’s pushing way too far now, but annoyance, arousal, coupled with anger, and top it all with the way Ueda is literally devouring him with those eyes - fuck - Kame doesn’t really care what flies out of his mouth at the moment.
“You wish,” Ueda laughs derisively, “I’ll give you something to be bitchy about when we get home, and we’ll see how you cope with it, dear, because you know nothing yet.”
And Kame’s eyes grow wide when Ueda pushes the slider of the accursed remote in his jeans pocket all the way to max.
“And don’t you dare come.” Ueda adds loudly over Kame’s moans as he starts up the engine and pulls out of the lot.
///
Kame can barely make it through their apartment door, and Ueda has to literally carry him through the threshold because Kame’s legs are trembling so violently they are totally incapable of supporting his weight any further.
His now fully engorged cock is literally twitching in it’s own inside his jeans, and the rough scraping of the fabric against swollen, sensitised flesh causes Kame to see white behind his eyelids every time. He isn’t sure how he manages it - to not come that is - what with the stupid thing vibrating at full speed against his prostate, constantly sending wave after wave of maddeningly intense pleasure all up and around inside of him.
Kame is a flushed mess when Ueda hauls him into their bedroom, which had been specially designed to cater and to suit Ueda’s personal tastes. The bed is wide - too wide even for them both - and the knobs on the four bedposts are where four identical leather straps are securely fastened to. The steel bar attached to the ceiling that hangs low is one of Ueda favourite toys, but Kame can’t say that it’s the same for him. Regardless, if it makes Ueda happy, Kame is willing - to a certain extent.
But today, the last thing on Kame’s mind is to make the asshole happy in any way because he so hard, so fucking close that he feels as though every time he moves, the sensation just goes straight to his cock, but still, he doesn’t come. He can’t.
Ueda’s punishments vary with his moods. It’s rather unpredictable, but Kame can tell when Ueda is in a good mood, a lousy mood, or a fucking nasty mood, which is when the punishments the man dishes out are normally him ignoring Kame completely for weeks on end until the younger man is nearly driven to tears. However, if Ueda is in a particularly good mood, sex lasts all the way until next morning, and Kame can be sure that there will be no way he can do any dance practise the next day.
Both punishments are equally bad, Kame thinks.
He barely registers it when Ueda dumps him unceremoniously on the bed, reaching into his pocket to turn the toy off before carefully removing it so as to not hurt Kame’s already abused hole. Kame chokes out a sob of relief. Any more, and he’ll probably come before Ueda even started, and that would not have been good.
Kame’s vision is blurry, but he can still make out the swirly patterns on Ueda’s ceiling. Propping himself up with his elbows, he sees Ueda move away from the bed to sit in the fluffy armchair opposite. He relaxes into the backrest, crosses his legs, and folds his arms in front of his chest, dark eyes just watching Kame.
Kame wants to rip his hair out, because what Ueda is doing here is torture.
“Ueda, what the fu-” begin’s Kame, but Ueda cuts him off swiftly.
“Strip.”
Kame looks confused for a for a few seconds, his brain still trying to process his current situation, or perhaps still trying to wrap around the order Ueda had just given him.
“W-Wha-”
“Can’t you comprehend simple orders, Kame? I said strip. Now.”
Kame doesn’t need to be told thrice, but under Ueda’s burning gaze, it’s embarrassing and borderline humiliating to do this. When Kame sits, completely naked on the bed, his cock standing red and hard against his pale skin. Ueda doesn’t say anything, he just watches him so intently that Kame’s face flames. Ueda needs to do something, anything right now instead of sitting there like a retard, because Kame needs to - fuck - he needs to do something now or else he might just combust.
“Okay, now what?” Kame says snappishly, crossing his arms in front of his chest and mirroring Ueda’s bored look the best he can.
Ueda’s lips slowly twists up into a grin. “Now touch yourself,” he whispers, voice unbearably low and deep. Kame moans at the tinges of pleasure that spikes through his body. “Do it.”
It embarrassing. It really, really is; but Kame bites his lips and backs up until he’s propped up against the large pillows, spreading his long, milky thighs and the sight of this makes Ueda’s breath hitch. Kame feels a smug smile pull at his lips. Even though Kame let’s Ueda do whatever he wants; because Ueda is a spoilt brat who can act like an asshole all he likes and still get away with it just because Kame is too forgiving for his own good, there is a part of Kame’s brain that knows Ueda is also in a way, under his mercy.
“Fuck,” he hears Ueda’s strained voice, and his breathing quickly getting higher and higher as Kame deliberately watches him through lusty, heavy-lidded eyes, bending those creamy thighs and exposing his entrance, the puckered skin around it still red and sore from the earlier manhandling. “Fuck,” This time Ueda’s voice literally cracks and ends with a moan, as Kame allows his lashes to lower, before sliding one hand down his chest slowly and deliberately. He takes all the time in the world to walks his fingers down, down, down, past his flat stomach and curl around his throbbing cock.
“God, Kame, go faster.”
Kame whimpers deep in his throat at the want in Ueda’s voice and at the contact of cool skin around his heated cock, and he barely catches Ueda’s broken moan as he watches on. But right now, Kame hardly cares who watches him as he flicks his wrist hard and fast, hand sliding up and down his shaft that is now slick with precome. He spreads his legs wider, bending them until they are pulled up against his chest, as his other hand slide lower and past his butt cheeks, fingering at his entrance.
He can hear Ueda’s laboured breathing, and quiet strangled chants of ‘fuck, fuck, fuck’ over and over as Kame’s slender finger slips past the puckered skin deeper and deeper. “Oh God,” Kame hisses, and throws his head back against the pillows, neck curving into a delicious arc, the sweet, pale column of it glistening with sweat. “Yes, yes, just-”
He doesn’t even know who he’s talking to, but he can hear Ueda moaning freely now, and this just spurs him on. Oh god. He’s close. So very fucking close. His eyes are squeezed shut, and his mouth hangs open, shameless moans flying out and reverberating around the dim room. So close, so closesoclosesoclose- And then his hands are violently ripped away from his body and pinned above his head. The feeling of cold steel closing around his wrists makes his eyes fly open.
Ueda didn’t say they were going to do this. He didn’t ask Kame first, and he must know that if there’s anything Kame hates more than being denied orgasm (again) when he’s this close, is being tied up like some cheap whore.
The cuffs are secured to the head of the bed, to there is no way that Kame can move, even if he wanted to. The whine that escapes from his lips is so bloody immature that Ueda smirks. As the spasms of near orgasm fades away, the spike of anger at being denied release flares inside, and Kame tugs sharply against the cuffs. “What the fuck, Ueda?” he rasps throatily, glaring up at the smug face that hovers over him.
Ueda lets his body settle between Kame’s spread legs, and he dips his head low to catch Kame’s bottom lip, nibbling at the plump flesh. He drags his tongue across Kame’s lips and slips in, swallowing the moans that spill form Kame’s lips as the rough denim of his jean scrape against Kame’s over-sensitised cock. Groaning lowly, he rakes his nails across the tender flesh underside Kame’s thigh, palming the smooth flesh and pushing his leg higher to hang over his shoulder.
“What are you doin-”
Kame feels something cold and tight slide down his cock to the base and he curses audibly. Not that. Anything but that. He’s just been denied release 2 fucking times already. Hasn’t Ueda had his fun? Isn’t he done playing with him like this?
Apparently not.
“Okay, I’m only going to say this once, so you’d better listen up,” Ueda voice quickly switches to take on an authoritative tone that makes Kame swallow. He knows what’s coming next. “The safe word is ‘Nakamaru’, okay? And for Christ’s sake, remember it this time.”
Kame frowns. “I’m not stupid. Of course I’ll remember.”
Ueda rolls his eyes. “That’s not what happened the last time we did this.”
“You had me fucking gagged!”
“That wasn’t anywhere close to being gagged!” Ueda snaps heatedly.
“Why don’t you try having your face shoved into someone’s dick so hard you can barely breathe.” Kame spits.
“You’re pushing boundaries, Kame.” Ueda says, his tone threatening.
“Then don’t blame me for everything that goes wrong with your stupid kinky fuck-time! I try to cooperate, you know. But you never seem to do the same!”
“You agreed to this as well, Kame,” Ueda says, and his voice is rather scary now. Kame suppress the urge to gulp. “Are you really going back on your fucking word now?”
Kame blinks. This is bad. This is bad bad bad bad. Ueda is so not fucking around with him now. This is no longer the playful banter the would have occasionally when Ueda gets too dominant. This fight is real, and Kame just remembers that he is in a very vulnerable position.
“Ueda- don’t-”
But Ueda is already stripping himself down to nothing, covering Kame’s shivering body with his own, hard on chafing against hard on, and Kame moans wantonly despite being scared shitless just moments ago.
Ueda pushes Kame’s leg, which is draped over his shoulder upwards, making the younger man slide deeper into the soft pillows.
“I think you need to be punished. Really, really badly this time, Kame.” Ueda’s voice is sinister, and the coldness that laces his words send sparks of fear up and down Kame’s spine. He squirms uncomfortably, because Ueda is bending his leg too far upwards. He knows he’s flexible, but not this flexible.
“U-Ueda, stop it!” he yelps, and tries to wriggle away, “You’re fucking gonna break my leg off-”
But then Ueda shuts him up by covering Kame’s swollen lips with his own, tongue demanding entrance, and licking wetly all around Kame’s mouth, until the younger man is gasping for breath when Ueda breaks away. Kame knows his face must be so flushed, because it practically feels like it’s on fire. Ueda dips his head low and licks his way from the sweaty column of Kame’s throat to his shoulder.
“Apologise, Kame.” Ueda whispers, hot breath fanning at his sensitised skin. Kame jolts violently when he feels the tip of Ueda’s cock brushing the puckered skin at the entrance of his hole. He whimpers and swallows several times, insides boiling with fear and acute annoyance, his pride rearing it’s ugly head again.
“Fuck you, no!” Kame hisses, and tries to pull his leg away, but then Ueda’s fingers - fuck - those ridiculously long and slender digits just stretch his hole and his cock follows after, shoving straight into him, and Kame screams, before biting down hard onto Ueda’s shoulder, because fuck fuck fuck fuck it fucking hurts.
God, he hates Ueda so much right now. How dare the bastard do this without any lubrication whatsoever? His eyes are clenched shut tight, but Kame can feel the wetness clinging onto his lashes. He can hear Ueda cursing audibly, pulling his shoulder away from Kame’s teeth. It’s coppery and salty, so Kame knows he drew blood, and Ueda is most certainly pissed about it, but he hardly gives a fuck about that now.
Kame’s breath comes out in quick, uncontrolled gasps, mingling with whimpers and short sobs. His entire body is shaking violently and the flaring white behind his eyelids makes it hard to see even after he forcefully cracks his eyes open.
“U-Ueda-” he starts, finding it difficult to speak because it still hurts, fucking hell. “I’m not fucking kidding you, don’t-” a strangled cry is torn from Kame’s throat, and the spasm causes him to yank at the cuffs so hard, Ueda hurriedly reaches up to hold them in place, stopping Kame from possibly hurting his wrists in the process. “-don’t move-”
Kame is surprised by the soft kiss that is planted on his forehead, and he blinks away the tears to see Ueda’s face looming over him. It’s no longer twisted in anger, but the tiny furrow between Ueda’s eyes tell Kame that the man is still annoyed, but worried as well.
“I know, I know. I’m sorry.” he sighs, this time actually sounding apologetic, and lifts one hand to brush the wet bangs from Kame’s face, planting soft, butterfly kisses down Kame’s face and throat. Kissing away the tears and fear. “That was stupid, I shouldn’t have done that no matter how annoyed I am. Does it- does it hurt bad?”
Kame growls. “FUCK, OF COURSE IT DOES, ASSHOLE.”
Ueda laughs lightly, and slowly brushes his fingers along Kame’s shivering sides. “I’m sorry,” he whispers again, and combs a hand through Kame’s damp hair. “Let me make it up to you.”
Kame bites his lip and adjusts his sore back slightly to accommodate to the foreign sensation. “Sure, like that’s gonna make me feel any better.” he snaps, annoyed.
“Oh, you know nothing yet.” Ueda grins, and he begins to move, slowly at first, and Kame’s soft cries begin to hitch, until they become full blown moans, his creamy thigh wrapping around Ueda’s waist, and the other that is thrown over his shoulder digs into the small of Ueda’s back, drawing him in closer.
“Yes, yes, just- right there-”
Ueda groans lowly, as the skin along Kame’s thighs slide erotically around his body, pulling him in deeper, and fuck the heat and velvet tightness is like a vice of silk that presses him around him. Ueda bites his lower lip and thrusts in hard, mouth falling open at the feeling of his cock dragging along the walls of Kame’s insides, so fucking tight and perfect-
He pulls out and shoves in again, picking up the pace, and going faster and faster and faster, until their moans and groans are almost drowned out my the sound of skin slapping against skin. Kame can feel his cock trying to harden again, but that stupid cock ring that Ueda- the asshole.
“Fuck, you’re so-” Ueda begins, his eyes heavy lidded and sweat streaming down his hairline.
Kame just lies there, shoved against the pillows, creamy thighs spread wide with one leg bent over Ueda’s shoulder, eyes unfocused and dilated - all in all, completely undone beneath Ueda.
“-You’re so beautiful.” Ueda finally says, voice a cross between a groan and a growl, and he brushes his hand across Kame’s sweaty forehead, plating a kiss just below his hairline. His hips never, ever, slow down.
Kame is panting more than breathing, face flushed and entire body spasming violently, but he manages a smile, that if anything, turns Ueda on further, “I know,” he says with a playfully. “But I would have much liked it if you had said I look hot, because I know I am, and so do you.”
“You’re a fucking narcissist.” Ueda snorts, and shoves in hard again and again. Tears gather at the corners of Kame’s lids and his cries reach a new octave when Ueda’s thrusts hit a spot that makes his back arch painfully off the pillows, his wrists yanking at the cuffs. “Stop, stop, I can’t-”
“No, I’m not gonna let you come just yet, Kame,” pants Ueda, a teasing grin spreading across his face. “Patience.”
Ueda purposely pushing so far in that his balls stick to Kame’s ass, the tip of his cock nudging at that nub of over sensitised nerves, and Kame flings his head back with a choked cry. “Fuck, please please please I need-”
“Not. Yet.” Ueda grits out, slamming into Kame hard, and pulling out so painfully slow, dragging along Kame’s tight walls, that are constricting and relaxing so much, that when Ueda finally comes, his entire body spasms, and he falls forwards, flat onto Kame’s body.
Kame whines pitifully when Ueda doesn’t remove himself, because it’s starting to get painful and very uncomfortable. “Get out of me, idiot,” he pants, “And get me off, now.”
It takes awhile for Ueda to find his bearings, and he finally pulls out of Kame’s body, tired and spent. That can’t be said for Kame though, who is all hot and flustered, and downright irritated.
Ueda grins sadistically, and he slowly, slowly removes the steel ring around Kame’s cock, which hardens so rapidly, that Ueda hurriedly closes his hand around the base, which sends Kame into a hissy fit.
“Shut up, Kame,” he says, voice low and commanding. “Calm down or I’ll put the ring back on.”
This shuts Kame up effectively, but that doesn’t make him less furious. He glares at Ueda with his lips turned down into the most immature pout Ueda has ever seen, and he wishes that there is a hidden camera somewhere that will show the entire world just how much of a brat Kamenashi Kazuya can be.
But on second thought, maybe not, because Kame, completely undone like this, is for him, and only him to see.
“Okay, I’m going to count to three, and when I do, you can come - but not before, or else.” Ueda says, planting a kiss on the tip of Kame’s nose.
“I hate you.” Is all Kame says in response.
“Au contraire,” Ueda scoffs, “You love me.”
He pumps Kame’s cock hard, and the younger man inhales sharply, his back arching off the covers. “One.” Ueda says, and he takes a few seconds to watch kame’s eyes sealed shut so tight that his lids tremble.
“Two.” Another hard stroke, and Kame yanks on the cuffs so hard Ueda has to have his free hand grab at his wrists.
“Three.” He doesn’t release Kame’s cock, and the younger man’s eyes fly open, staring pleadingly at Ueda, his breath completely non-existent as he holds it, holds it-
Ueda then drags his thumb across the tip of Kame’s cock, “You can come now.”
Kame screams himself to climax, thick spurts of semen dirtying Ueda’s hand and his stomach. Kame’s back is still arched when he stops, before falling back, boneless into the soft pillows, sobbing and panting at the same time.
He feels someone unlocking the cuffs, and his wrists are sore and he’s certain there are welts and abrasions decorating them, because they hurt like hell. He lies there, arms sore, and backside even sorer, when he feels a wet cloth being dragged lightly across his stomach, cleaning away the come.
Ueda is always gentle afterwards, and it’s one of Kame’s favourite parts after a bout of violent sex.
“Life your legs a little, Kame,” Ueda says, and he strokes the bruised thighs. “If I don’t clean you up now, you’re gonna feel like shit tomorrow.”
Kame whines, but he complies, hissing when he feels Ueda wiping down his abused hole. “Ow…”
“Sorry,” Kame shivers at the soft kiss planted on the inside of his thigh. “I’ll get the cream out. Where did you put it again?”
“Bedside….dr’wr…” Kame mumbles, rolling onto his side and burying his face into the pillows. He barely registers the drawer being opened, and Ueda massaging something cold onto the sore and abused skin.
“There is no way you can go to work tomorrow.” Ueda sighs, and almost at once, kame’s eyes fly open and he flips over, looking throughly scandalised.
“As if!” he snaps, “Just because I’m sore doesn’t give me the excuse of- Ow. Ow! Fuck you, stop prodding my hip!”
“You can barely move, idiot,” Ueda scoffs, as he pulls a loose nightshirt on. “There is no way you can do the new choreography without cussing the place down.”
“You do that well enough.” Kame pouts, and turns over, his back toward Ueda.
He scoots over when he feels the mattress dip, and a warm body curls around his own, tucking him into a chest, hard with muscle. Ueda buries his lips into the top of Kame’s head, kissing the damp locks. “I’m sorry,” he says, “Perhaps I was a little unreasonable there.”
Kame laughs softly and presses back into Ueda. “It’s okay. I’m sorry too.”
Ueda wraps an arm around Kame’s waist and pulls him closer. “I guess a meeting isn’t really a good place to fool around. You’re right.”
“Manager-san is going to kill me tomorrow,” Kame says, a little perplexed. “Oh well.”
They lie in comfortable silence for awhile, and Kame thinks that this is rather sweet, when-
“Ueda?”
“Hm?”
“You’re hard. Again.”
“Having your ass pressed against me isn’t a very good idea.”
“Fuck it, you are not screwing me again.”
Ueda whines. “I know, I know. I’ll take care of it later.”
But then Kame decides to play dirty, and it’s in record time that Ueda finds himself lying flat with Kame straddling his waist. He blinks up at the strangely sadistic grin on Kame’s features.
“Uh, aren’t you sore-”
“Who said anything about fucking?” Kame snorts, and he slides lower, and lower, and lower, until Ueda has to prop himself up on his elbows to keep Kame in his line of vision.
“Wait, Kame-”
“Shut up and lie down so I can give you the best head of you life.”
And Ueda thinks that loving Kame is perhaps the best thing that has ever happened to him.
///
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“Hey what are you doing?”
“Calling the fucking cops, of course. It sounds like somebody is torturing some poor animal next door.”
///