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Kudou leans back on his heels, wiping his forehead with his sweat damp shirt. Hands making their way down Yoichi’s body, he studies the red and purpling bite marks littering his neck and shoulders, his pink and swollen nipples, his taunt stomach smeared with his release from earlier, his cock hard and leaking.
Kudou was almost satisfied.
It’s dark outside. They started this before the sun was even on the horizon. The air was stuffy, choking them with the smell of sweat and sex— He really needs to open the window, even if the temperature outside was close to freezing.
This wasn’t the plan for tonight. But more often than not these days, this is how they spend their time together. It started with a conversation. Yoichi leaning against his shoulder. Yoichi telling him about his past. He always talked with a sad expression, eyes downcast and lips curled in an almost smile. What was he even talking about? Oh. His brother.
All for One’s late night visits, his harsh touches, how he would bite bruises into Yoichi’s skin, leave scars on his body.
Claiming him.
Yoichi talked about how he had a faux gentleness to him. Talked to him with a sweet tone, but his words were condescending, degrading. And the way he would touch him— starting off innocently enough until he turned rough, forceful. He would guilt Yoichi into it because "if it wasn’t for me, little brother, you’d be dead on the streets".
His brother would open him with his fingers while pressing on a wound he made, making him writhe. He’d bite into his pulse hard enough to break the skin as he sank into him, feeling his heart stutter.
He’d fuck into him while declaring how they belonged together. How perfect he was for him.
The healed gashes along his stomach, the discolored marks on his chest, the indents in his hips where he clawed into him, held him down, down on his cock—
It was mortifying. It made Kudou sick.
It’s haunted him since Yoichi first told him. Kudou couldn’t stop. Every time he looked at him too long, when he saw the marks when the collar of his shirt slipped from his shoulder, when his hands grazed Yoichi’s body and he felt the dips, the raised skin of still sensitive scars— his stomach would twist and an overwhelming need to override those memories— nightmares— flooded his thoughts.
He hated looking at them. Kudou wanted those marks gone. The marks that made Kudou’s stomach churn. The marks that Yoichi stared at with a vacant look in the mirror. They were in the way.
It took over Kudou’s every thought. The more they fucked, the less it became about fulfilling desires and the more it became a need to possess Yoichi, to claim his body and steal him away from the one person he hated with all his being.
Once he realized this, the guilt felt almost unbearable because how the hell could he explain that to Yoichi? How could he stop this without making it seem like it was Yoichi’s fault because it wasn’t.
And how could he deny him whenever Yoichi was beneath him, shaking hands gripping him tightly and eyes staring up at him sparkling and hopeful?
It fills Kudou with so much dread, so much anger. Because he knows he shouldn’t. Not in this way. But he can’t stop. Every time, before he knew it, he was on top of Yoichi, caging him in, straddling his hips. Yoichi always looks so surprised at first, green eyes wide but expecting. The knowing look Yoichi gives him each time—
Kudou can never breathe.
"Did he ever touch you here? Here?" He’d ask every time he moved his hands along his body, kissed and licked up his skin. And every time, Yoichi would nod timidly, choke out a "yes". It killed him. Everywhere. The bastard’s claimed Yoichi everywhere. It makes Kudou kiss harder, mark him more, thrust harsher, faster. He wants to take Yoichi’s body back, to carve a space inside him, a space that only he can fill, that Yoichi would only want him to fill.
He wants Yoichi ruined, begging for him, wants Yoichi to say he’s his with a mouth watering moan.
This need. This searing heat that burns away at his insides every time he fucks Yoichi to claim rather than to savor. Kudou’s become so blind with this obsessive need that he doesn’t even realize he doesn’t have to do any of this to achieve what he wants. Because Yoichi’s already his. The way he looks at him, gives himself to him, every waking moment he thinks about Kudou’s attention, Kudou’s touch, Kudou, Kudou, Kudou—
It’s him.
Kudou’s the problem.
He’s the one that can’t stop thinking about Yoichi’s brother. He’s the one obsessed with taking him back, keeping him close, ingraining into Yoichi’s psyche— into his own— that Yoichi is his— Deep down he knows this, but he can’t freakin’ stop.
Today too, he’s gone overboard. Kudou knows this. They’ve been at it for well over an hour. Kudou’s tireless need to claim. Yoichi looks exhausted, eyes half closed and hazy. Panting and breathless. Body sore and lax beneath him. Kudou isn’t sure how much longer he can last.
But he needs him to last. He needs him lucid.
Wake up. Wake up, because he has to be awake for this, Kudou needs him to be aware of who’s touching him, kissing him, fucking him this good.
Chest heaving and slightly delirious, Kudou bends down, gripping Yoichi’s face, thumbs digging into his jaw to lift his face up towards him. One thumb moves to brush along his cheeks, a fleeting moment of gentleness as fingers bury themselves in his sweat damp hair. He says Yoichi’s name against his lips and a glimmer of light sparkles in his eye. Kudou kisses him— if you could call it a kiss— mouth wide, bruising, and tongue shoved so far down his throat he feels Yoichi’s lashes on his cheeks.
Yoichi gasps for air when Kudou pulls away to bite along his jaw, tilting his head back more, exposing it so he has a clear path down to his throat.
Ugh, Yoichi’s whines, the way he arches into him, leaves himself pliant and open and willing drives him insane. His skin is flushed prettily, sticky from sweat, bite marks and bruises blooming over old scars, the bastard’s scars—
Yoichi smells like him. He’s covered in his sweat, his spit, his marks. Yoichi tastes like him too, lips kissed raw, licking into his mouth, swallowing his moans. And inside— filled with him, his cum, over and over—
His ideal. So perfect.
Kudou splays one hand under Yoichi’s lower back and the other hooks under his knee, pushing it back and spreading Yoichi’s legs open. Yoichi calls out, panting desperately when Kudou goes down to mouth and lick at the bite marks along his inner thighs. They are not even two hours old yet, but he wants to make them bigger, darker, finalizing a field map for himself when he no doubt tries to mark him up again.
Yoichi’s hole is already red and swollen and wet from being fucked not even 20 minutes ago. Kudou lays the flat of his tongue against it and sucks, but doesn’t stay long, just enough to feel the sensitive flesh spasm against him. Just enough to coax Yoichi back to life, until his body is jerking and he’s moaning his name desperately.
Kudou’s nails dig into the sides of Yoichi’s knees and he pushes. He knows he’s being too rough, but Yoichi bends so beautifully fuck— knees to his shoulders and hole fluttering and gaping just for him. And Yoichi doesn’t complain. Takes the manhandling, takes whatever is given to him.
Was Yoichi this submissive with him too?
Shit.
He hates that he has to keep thinking about it.
He locks eyes with Yoichi when he tentatively rubs his cock over his hole because even though they’ve already done so much— even though he’s already taken so much from Yoichi— he’ll stop if it’s not what Yoichi wants. He watches him, feels the tip catch at his rim every other pass. Yoichi keens, nails digging into Kudou’s thighs. Kudou waits for him to tell him no. To stop. But he never does. So he keeps going, teases him just a bit more, relishing in how his cheeks flush even darker, how his lips part with a gasp whenever his cock slips just the tiniest bit inside.
And then he’s in. He’s not even all the way inside yet and Yoichi is still so deliciously tight and hot and perfect despite the bullying, despite the abuse he’s endured until now. And Yoichi is so pliant and willing, mouth falling open wide, any words dying in his throat as he’s left panting and moaning.
Kudou presses his body down into him more as if he’ll run away. Like Yoichi would ever. He gradually bares his weight on an elbow as he pushes inside slowly. Compared to earlier, he slides in so easily now. As if all the effort, all the times Kudou has greedily laid claim to Yoichi’s body has finally left a permanent space inside of him. Just for Kudou.
Yoichi’s sweat damp bangs cling to his forehead, his eyes can’t stay open anymore. He’s clawing valleys into Kudou’s back, clutching onto him and holding him tight like he was falling. Kudou holds onto him tighter.
Yoichi always feels good, always lets out soft, needy sounds when he’s being fucked into. Yoichi is already whining loud and unabashed under him, boneless and exhausted. He’s tired and so, so close. It won’t take much longer.
It’s maddening, Yoichi’s heat, the way Yoichi clinches around him, sucks him in. Kudou starts slow, slower than he’s gone all evening because even just entering Yoichi has left him close to coming. He’s tired too. He’s put his all into this. He isn’t sure why. He barely knows this man. But he’s worth it.
Yoichi is just worth it to him.
The warning Kudou gets when Yoichi is about to cum is his name, choked out and high pitched. Yoichi’s head lulls back against the pillows and he stiffens, arching his back so harshly, Kudou ends up even deeper inside.
It hurts, the nails in his back, Yoichi’s insides squeezing him like he wants to keep him inside— Yoichi tightens so much around him Kudou’s thrusts stutter, gripping Yoichi’s knee and the bedsheets tightly. Kudou shudders watching Yoichi give into his pleasure: eyes rolled back, body shaking as he cums all over his chest and stomach. So beautiful. So euphoric.
It’s a shame he’s seen this too.
The fact that All for One has seen Yoichi like this, his gasps, his moans, carved his way inside just like this, felt him all around him just like this— stirs something ugly and possessive in Kudou.
He hisses his name as his thrusts turn frantic and Yoichi sobs as his body slumps into the mattress. He’s burnt out, tired, tired— Kudou knows he’s at his limit but he won’t stop. Yoichi is writhing under him, holding his biceps tight, groaning and chanting something between fucked out gasps— maybe his name— but Kudou can’t hear him over the roaring in his ears.
Kudou rarely took him this rough, this fast. Not until he found out.
Kudou was careful with Yoichi, treated him like a delicate piece of glass, easily breakable, easy to hurt. And he doesn’t want to hurt Yoichi, especially after everything he’s been through. But he wants Yoichi. Wants Yoichi to feel him everywhere, wear him everywhere, to consume his every thought, his every breath, to keep him.
Yoichi’s voice, his gaze, his attention, during moments like these, when Kudou takes him, when Yoichi’s drunk off him, they are all his.
He has everything he wants.
And yet, it’s not enough.
He pushes harder and Yoichi folds willingly with a whine, hands desperately gripping the ones that are bruising the back of his knees. Kudou can see everything. Yoichi’s hole, the rim stretched out and raw around him. Where is cock carves a way into Yoichi’s body. He fits so perfectly inside. Feels every bump and ridge as he thrusts faster, deeper. Yoichi looks completely wrecked, tears staining his flushed cheeks, hair disheveled, mouth, pink and swollen, permanently open around desperate pleas of pleasure. Held down like this, Yoichi can’t move even if he wanted to. He is completely at his mercy. It’s so satisfying, so mesmerizing. Yoichi feels so good— is so good for him, searing heat pulsing, building in his gut the longer he watches.
Kudou’s close and the overwhelming urge to claim stabs at his heart again. But he’s already filled Yoichi from the inside, cummed in him while Yoichi chanted his name, watched it seep out before hungrily filling him again—
It still isn’t enough.
His skin, soft, pink— bruised. No matter how much he marks him it’s not enough.
Kudou gasps out his name too quietly, but somehow Yoichi hears it, opening his eyes just enough for Kudou to see the green distorted by tears, the green that pulls him in every time. When he’s close, so close, and he was certain Yoichi was focused on him, he pulls out. He strokes himself one, two, three times and he cums on Yoichi with a groan. He watches it paint his stomach, his cock, it drips down his taint, to his hole. Milk white. Seeping a little inside. Kudou shivers, opens Yoichi’s legs wider, watching it spread. He’s forgotten to breathe, he can’t bring himself to look away.
His eyes flicker up to Yoichi. Flushed all over, bitten, bruised, breathless, legs spread and covered in his sweat and cum. He’s delirious, drunk off of the pleasure, but his eyes are on him. And he looks absolutely debauched.
He’s never looked more beautiful.
He doesn’t realize he’s doing it, until it’s too late, running his free hand through the mess, spreading it down Yoichi’s cock, up to his bitten nipples. He bites back a moan. The sight of him, that Yoichi lets him do this, sends a valiant twitch to his softening cock.
At first he’s not thinking at all, head buzzing and thoughts muffled, content with basking in the afterglow of what he’s done, what he’s taken. But a low, relentless voice echoes louder and louder in his head until it makes his head pound.
Mine. Kudou swallows.
Mine mine mine—
And Yoichi watches him all the while, lets these thoughts fester, lets him keep his vice grip on him— keeping him open— as if expecting Kudou to still take more.
Looking at him, does he know just how desperate Kudou is to make Yoichi his?
Guilt floods him. How it happened to Yoichi again. He was claimed, owned by someone. Is this the exact vision his brother saw? Splayed out like this? Used?
He curses under his breath. Before his thoughts can spiral further, Kudou leaves to grab a wet cloth from the washroom. As he leaves, Yoichi sighs. In relief? Kudou wouldn’t blame him.
Yoichi’s eyes are closed and his body lay sprawled out and boneless on the bed when he returns. Kudou carefully starts wiping his body. He knows this isn’t enough, Yoichi needs— deserves— a proper bath, they both do, but it’ll do for now.
As he works, he studies Yoichi’s pale skin, blues, purples, and reds glistening when he wipes along them. When he reaches his hips, his eyes never leave them, glaring at the old scars that frame his hip bones, now covered in fresh new bruises. Made by him.
He feels guilt yes, he can’t deny that. But shamefully, above his feelings of contempt and embarrassment, pride stands higher above all else.
"Kudou." His voice was so soft. So quiet. Kudou almost missed it over the overbearing volume of his thoughts. He looks up to see Yoichi looking down at him. He almost looks like himself again, lucid and aware, but clearly done. Kudou wants to run his fingers under his eyes, smooth and kiss the tired lines, the dark circles that have formed there, but he knows he has no right.
Kudou’s eyes flicker back down to his hips. They’re so skinny, his bones jutting out sharply. The human body really is a marvel for it to be able to withstand such harshness when it can be so frail. Or perhaps Yoichi is just the marvel himself.
He rubs his thumbs along his skin carefully. "I’m sorry."
Yoichi’s eyes stay on him. "For what?" He asks with a little crease in his brow.
For having sex with you. For hurting you. For claiming you. For being so stupid. For thinking one thorough fucking is going to erase years of your trauma.
"For treating you so roughly." He decides to say.
"Hm." Yoichi looks at him like he doesn’t believe him, but he goes along with it anyway. "Why did you?" Yoichi covers the hands on his hips with his own.
Kudou doesn’t answer and the longer he stays mute, the more Yoichi’s expression twists into concern. He makes a tiny noise, gripping his hands tighter and says, "Kudou…" He opens his mouth to say more, but Kudou watches as the words stick in his throat.
Yoichi reaches up slowly, runs his fingers along Kudou’s cheeks, his jaw. He places his hands on either side of his face and urges him down and Kudou goes, following his hands until their lips meet.
Kissing is the only thing he can do with Yoichi without feeling guilt.
"Did he ever kiss you?" He recalls asking. He doesn’t know why he asked. And Yoichi stared at him with wide eyes. "When he— touched you, did he ever kiss you?"
Yoichi looked at him with a mixture of shame and embarrassment, but eventually he shook his head. It sent instant relief through him.
Kudou kissed him right then because he wanted to steal at least that way from him. It was selfish. Didn’t make sure Yoichi wanted it first, but he stole Yoichi’s first kiss, stole Yoichi’s choice to give it to someone else.
Yoichi’s lips are soft and gentle. Kudou lets him lead, following the movement of his lips. When Yoichi tilts his head he follows suit. When he opens his mouth wider, he obeys, slipping his tongue inside.
This is a far cry from the sex they just had. Slow, tender. Deep. Lingering. The way Yoichi kisses isn’t greedy. Isn’t selfish. It makes Kudou anxious. Because the more they kiss like this, the greedier and more selfish he becomes. He wants the tingling of his lips to last. He wants to press down harder, sink in deeper. Swallow his whines, devour him—
"Kudou," Yoichi whispers, fingers carding through the sweaty hairs at his nape. Yoichi pauses again, eyebrows furrowing as his frustration at being unable to say what he wants builds.
"Say it, Yoichi." He says. He has no right to tell him to do anything, but he prods anyway. "What?"
"Just… you doing this means… you want me, don’t you?"
Now Kudou pauses because answering that means revealing the ugly truth about what All for One wants too.
"Because… because…" Yoichi’s eyes puddle with tears, accentuating the green in his eyes, "I want you to. I want you… to want me."
Kudou takes a deep breath and sighs, resting on his forearms and sinking further into his embrace, "I do want you." He whispers, and it’s true. He wants Yoichi more than he’s wanted anyone. He kneads Yoichi’s hips, his waist. "It’s just… I don’t want you to hate me."
"Why would I?" Yoichi grips him tighter, shifting so that they slot closer. Kudou doesn’t answer and Yoichi deflates. "I could never."
"You should." He pauses. "Me. And him too." He adds.
Yoichi stiffens, eyes wide. He understands.
Kudou looks away again, "What we’ve done to you…"
Yoichi sucks in a sharp breath, cups Kudou’s face harder and forces his eyes back on him. "Don’t you dare. Okay? Because then you’ll make this seem like a mistake and I—" he shakes his head, "That’s not what it was for me."
Kudou’s eyebrows furrow, his heart pounds hard against his chest.
"My brother has taken a lot of things from me. From a lot of people. My brother he— might have taken my body first, but he can never have what I’ve willingly given you."
Willingly.
That word plays in his head over and over. "Like what?"
"Like…" Yoichi’s shoulders hunch and his voice cracks, a deep blush settling on his cheeks.
Kudou smiles small at the sight— he’s just so cute— leans down and brushes his lips against Yoichi’s ear, "What can I have of yours, hm? Tell me." Yoichi shivers as Kudou once again rests his weight against his body. He nuzzles into the shell of his ear, "This? Here?"
He can hear Yoichi let out a shaky breath, clutching the front of his shirt tightly before nodding. Kudou hums, moving down until he was up against the underside of his jaw. He leaves open mouthed kisses there, down to his neck, against the hallow of his throat. "Here?"
Kudou feels him swallow. Yoichi squeezes his eyes shut, tears already forming in his eyes as he nods again, "Mhm."
Kudou pulls away and hovers over him. The movement makes Yoichi open his eyes, peering up at him. Kudou leans back down, brushing Yoichi’s bangs to the side, and gives him a short peck on the lips, but doesn’t pull away. "How ‘bout here?"
Yoichi smiles, cheeks flushed bright. He nods and barely gets to reply with a "yeah" before Kudou kisses him again, harder and insistent. He stays there for a bit, kissing him longer, pressing down harder each time he goes down for another.
Kudou touches him all over, along his chest, down his shoulders, his thin waist, all the while, talking against his lips, asking the same question each time and Yoichi always giving the same answer.
Kudou leans on one elbow, resting on his side and keeps exploring. Yoichi follows, turning to face him, eyes never leaving his. His hand cup Yoichi’s ass, slides down his thigh, hiking it over his leg just a bit. He kisses his lips, quietly talks against them, asking again, and Yoichi hums back in response. When his hand reaches between his legs, the question still in the air, Yoichi confirms with a gasp.
Arching into his touch, covering Kudou’s hand with his, gaining confidence, Yoichi guides it where he wants it to go. His hand caresses Kudou’s cheek, his other hand exploring his body with him. He smiles against Kudou’s lips, laughs into his mouth, loses his breath when their hands land on sensitive skin.
Yes. There.
Every place he touches, Yoichi willingly agrees, sleepy and relaxed.
There, there, there—
When their hands reaches Yoichi’s chest Yoichi keeps them there, intertwines their fingers. "Here too." His whispers. Kudou stills, eyes wide. He can feel Yoichi’s heartbeat thudding hard against his palm. "This too. If- if you want it." Yoichi’s shaking, looking up at him with hopeful, tear filled eyes. Kudou’s never seen him so red.
Kudou’s heart stops at the implication. It’s everything he wants, it’s everything he’s worked for— and Yoichi is giving it to him. All that effort—
He sighs through his nose, shoulders deflating, "You too." He swallows thickly, wrapping his free arm around Yoichi and pulling them closer, "Mine too. It’s yours."
And the smile Yoichi gives him is so bright that he can’t help but close his eyes.
They fall asleep tangled up in each other. Kudou doesn’t think about if he’s seen that smile too.