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“You’re so stiff, baby. Loosen up. Yeah—there you go.”
Shotaro just finished fingering himself open, and he was now starting to focus on how tense Anton was. He looked like he’d seen a ghost, really. His eyes were wide, hands clammy like he was terrified he already made a wrong move (which was funny, considering he wasn’t moving at all). Anton visibly relaxed a little from Shotaro’s words, and yet his eyebrows were still creased towards the middle of his forehead, teeth nibbling deep into his bottom lip.
Topping is not a big deal, not to most people—but Anton had never tried such a thing before, and the pressure of wanting to do his absolute best for Shotaro was killing him. Before Shotaro mentioned the concept of Anton topping, Anton had never even considered it before, at least not with Shotaro. Anton wanted to try it, though, he needed to try it, actually; it seemed like this was something Shotaro craved, and if Anton had to mold himself into someone else to satisfy him, he’d happily do so. He’d go above and beyond to make Shotaro feel good. Anton shivered as he felt Shotaro kiss his cheek, watching as he knelt over his lubed, aching cock. This isn’t who he was, yet he will do this with Shotaro regardless.
“Been thinking about this for a while,” Shotaro breathed as he looked down at Anton, smile twitching up a little higher on his lips. Anton could see the beginnings of sweat beading on his forehead. “You’re so big. It would—God—it would slap your stomach every time we fucked. Wouldn’t - could never stop staring.”
Anton’s hands gravitated towards Shotaro’s hips as the older started moving down on his cock, his tip getting engulfed by his heat, and Anton had to force a hiccup back down his throat from the sheer feeling of it, already dazed and he hadn’t even bottomed out yet. Anton wasn’t that aware of everything now, unsure if the warmth on his face was from blushing or crying. That would be so humiliating—a top who cried. A top who’s insecure, or a top who wants to be taken care of. By the way Shotaro was talking, it seemed like Anton was made to be a top: big body, big dick, big everything, and Anton felt compelled to at least look assured of himself. Anton would have to keep himself in check to make sure he’s a good enough top to stay with.
“Hyung,” Anton felt like he wasn’t even in his own body anymore, felt like he was hearing someone else’s voice talking instead, “taking—taking me so deep.” Shotaro’s lips parted a bit, akin to shock or something of that nature, and Anton could see his dick twitch, which meant he must have been doing good.
“Oh, keep talking like that,” Shotaro leaned over, forehead falling against Anton’s shoulder as he started bouncing on his cock. Anton could feel—hear Shotaro’s ass smack against his thighs every time he moved down enough to take his whole girth. Anton moved his hands towards Shotaro’s ass and gave it a rough squeeze, earning an airy moan from his hyung. “Yeah, fuck, baby. Such a good—ah, good boy.”
Mind on autopilot, Anton started thinking of what to say next. What would Shotaro like to hear? Shotaro leaned back, holding himself up on Anton’s thighs as he started grinding down on his dick, and Anton could see a small bulge in his lower stomach whenever he angled himself the right way. It was hard to hold anything in now. Anton hoped his stupid little noises were hot enough. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to think harder. If he couldn’t imagine what exactly Shotaro would want to hear, he’d have to think of what he’d like to hear coming from Shotaro instead.
To imagine yourself bottoming while you’re topping is criminal. Anton decided he’d have to turn himself in after this, locked behind bars for the rest of his life. He swallowed back some bile from the guilt. In his mind, Shotaro was fucking him nice and slow, telling Anton how good he feels, how tight he is. “Feel so good,” Anton repeated brain-Shotaro’s words, face burning up from how humiliating everything was, “squeezing me so hard—so tight.”
For the first time ever, Shotaro felt so good he couldn’t even speak, aside from broken whines and busted syllables. At least, that’s what Anton assumed—because if Shotaro just didn’t want to talk to him anymore he’d feel more than suicidal. Anton imagined if Shotaro lifted his head he’d look absolutely ruined, face flushed and full of tears and drool. He could only hum at Anton’s words, clenching hard around Anton’s girth, and Anton felt a sharp pang of something deep in his stomach. He swallowed a lump in his throat. He didn’t know what caused it so suddenly, but he was so terrified that he could barely move his jaw enough to form words. Felt like Shotaro was going to leave him, or that Anton wasn’t doing good enough, despite everything. He didn’t know why Shotaro wasn’t speaking. Shotaro needed to say something, anything.
“Tell me—tell me I’m the only one, hyung,” Anton’s words spewed from his mouth hurriedly, breaths coming out all jittery. He started bucking his hips, so restless he could barely contain himself anymore, and he was sure he was crying now because his vision was getting blurry and his cheeks felt wet. “No one else. Don’t want hyung going to… to anyone else.”
Shotaro held his face up enough to where their foreheads were touching, and even through Anton’s inability to focus from their close proximity he could make out a wide grin on Shotaro’s lips, almost as if he was enjoying whatever Anton was going through. Like he knew what Anton was thinking, how he was feeling, and that he was into it. Anton unknowingly allowed Shotaro to turn him inside out, and he realized it too late. “Why would I?” Shotaro rasped, breath hitching as Anton’s hips jackrabbited, and he sat fully so he could feel his cock ram as deep as it could, his entire body shivering with the force at which he was getting stretched out. “Won’t leave such a… a sweet, mm, good dog.” A little sound knocked out of his lungs when Anton wrapped his arms around his waist, keeping him there so he could succumb to how good his body felt instead of everything else he was thinking, fucking into him faster and chasing his own release. “Fuck, fuck, Ton-ah, gonna come inside?—“
With a pitchy whimper, Anton came deep inside of Shotaro, nudging his face into the older’s shoulder and hoping the tear that squeezed out of his eye could pass as sweat. He was drooling too, wet lips making a mess of Shotaro’s pretty flushed skin, and his cock throbbed with what was left of his orgasm. His arms around Shotaro’s waist loosened up, dick already beginning to soften, and he could feel his headspace slipping into a welcoming pool of nothingness—right until Shotaro started moving his hips again.
“Taro—Taro-hyung,” Anton cried out brokenly, body wracked with overstimulation as he jerked helplessly. Of course, how could he forget? Shotaro hadn’t come yet. It was only natural for him to use Anton’s body to get off. He shook his head, thick tears piling up in his ducts, making his eyes look gross and reflective. Shotaro brought a hand back to cup Anton’s mouth, and Anton babbled in squeaks behind his sweaty palm, words muffled. “Ah, please, please hyung, too much! I can’t, I can’t—”
“Think you were meant to be this way,” Shotaro’s voice inflection was messy, sloppy, and he could barely pronounce his words correctly, sounding high and airy as he inched closer towards his climax. “Even when… your dick’s inside me, I’m still the one—the one fucking you.”
“No, no,” Anton sobbed behind Shotaro’s hand, his whole face filthy with tears and spit and snot, and he could barely catch his breath or stop shaking. Just a day ago, he would have accepted such words being used towards him. On second thought, he didn’t know why he was rejecting this so adamantly. “Not, you’re not, m’the one—oh!” Anton felt Shotaro clench around him, his own eyes rolling back now; his entire body felt like static.
Shotaro bit his lip until he drew blood, soaking up the view in front of him as if he wanted this to last forever, and with a stammered groan he came on Anton’s stomach in thick spurts, making an absolute mess of him. Anton looked desecrated, a rotten and used sack of flesh. “My doll. Perfect for me.” He started pulling himself off of Anton’s cock, hole gaping around nothing as it leaked cum, and he swiped some of it up with his finger before stuffing it inside of Anton’s mouth. Anton took in that digit, parting his lips to welcome some more, letting Shotaro stuff his mouth full with his hand. He didn’t really know who or what he was anymore. When he gazed up into Shotaro’s eyes and saw how ecstatic he looked, like this was what he’d been waiting for his whole life, he realized that maybe how he felt didn’t matter anyway.