[ something isn’t right with you. has anything ever been right with Choso? since his incarnation, it doesn’t feel like there has. a year and a half of life and it doesn’t feel like it, like it’s even possible to be right in the ways that mattered.
something isn’t right with you, choso. what could it be? ]
I got tired of being angry.
[ he speaks as he looks around the lobby, idly picking out the little details that set it apart from the usual love hotel. even while Toji pays, he doesn’t leave the man’s side. ]
I want to be greedy instead. So here I am. Taking my fill.
[ His half lidded eyes study Choso for a moment, looking for any sort of small indication-- any sort of clue as to why Choso got tired of being angry, or what something like that actually means.
The key is spit out from the kiosk and he puts it in his pocket along with his dagger, and since it's eerily absent here, his hand clasps the back of Choso's head, grabbing a fistful of hair. ]
[ the yank elicits a sudden, surprised snarl, all teeth and guttural noise. his heart rate ramps up, pulse a heavy pound in his chest, but his blood stays in his body even while his hands snap up to wrap in a white-knuckled grip around Toji’s wrist.
stupid, greedy curse. it like he was hoping for this; it isn’t the same if he can’t dig his heels in just to feel the futility of it. ]
[ It doesn't take him long to bring Choso to their room, and immediately he takes him to the bathtub, releasing him only when he's gotten him into the bathtub and on his back. Just like Choso wanted, he's allowing himself to be seen through all of this. Before Toji joins him, though, he clicks on the shower, even though Choso is still clothed.
As for him, he starts to undress, standing outside of the bath, the bare, over head light flickering now and then. The hotel room itself smelled of ash.
The shirt gets peeled off and the knife gets placed on the sink counter as he talks: ]
What do you want from me? This greed you're talking about, tell me.
[ unlike the love hotel, with its themes and bright lights and eye-catching colours, the hotel room they’ve gotten this time is a dreary little thing, forgettable, no cleaner than the alley behind it. seems fitting, somehow. seems just right, some way.
sprawled on his back in the tub, Choso can feel under his palms where the enamel has begun to crack from age, where old soap scum still lingers. the flickering of the light keeps drawing his gaze up, so when the water turns on it catches him in the eyes, turns the world into a stinging smear of shitty fluorescents and shittier tiles. as his clothing soaks through, the outline of his hard-on is impossible to hide.
sputtering and coughing under the deluge, Choso tries to ward it away from his face as he squints up, shoe squeaking against the tub in his fruitless attempt to sit up. ]
Everything.
[ his voice is made thick by the rivulets running into his mouth, his attempts to breathe out harder to keep the water from going up his nose again. ]
I want your attention. I want your touch. I want the bruises you give me because they make me think of you every time they ache.
[ bold, unabashed. in this dirty dank place, he spits this confession out with iron-tang water, his offering to this dreadful little altar they’re making of the room. ]
I want your cock, because when you use me, I can think I’m giving you something no one else can. I can be selfish even when I give you my whole body.
[ Fortunately, the temperature from the water is pleasant enough; not too hot, not too cold. His shirt is discarded by the time that Choso starts to speak, and what Toji expects to be bedroom talk makes an unexpected turn.
It's a love confession, whether Choso recognizes that or not.
Slowly, Toji settles his gaze on the curse as he continues to spill out his desires, unmasked and unashamed. It was bold to talk like this to Toji, but he can't help but recognize just how sincere Choso sounds in this moment. Nobody has ever desired him, really. Not in a way that Choso is expressing. Nobody but her of course. He doesn't understand. He's an anomaly, a throw away, and he thought for certain that nobody else in his sad and miserable life would ever truly feel that way about him again.
And he was fine with that, because deep down, he felt like it's exactly what he deserved. He deserves it after being such a disappointment to his clan, a disappointment to his son. He also knows if his wife would still alive, she would be disappointed in him too. Yet, he can't seem to pick the pieces off of the floor again; he doesn't know how to fix the mistakes he has wrought, so he doesn't bother cause it's easier that way.
Toji's eyes have grown slightly through all of this, but they drop down to a tired gaze as he reaches over and take the knife by the handle. ]
[ And then, he climbs into the tub with Choso, forcing his legs apart and kneeling there. It's a tight squeeze, but he makes it work, shadowing over the other man. The water spills off of his broad and bare frame and he raises the dagger.
In a simple swipe, he slashes down Choso's shirt, cutting, then tearing with his bare hands, splitting the cloth clean in two and exposing Choso's pale skin. ]
Talk like that again and I'll kill you.
[ Despite the intense move, the knife doesn't touch Choso's skin at all; he aims with such precision and knew exactly what strength to use. ]
[ there should be some kind of fear, here. he acknowledges that there should be an urgency, a spark of self-preservation to protect this wretched life of his; it is not his own anymore, not wholly, not while Yuji lives and Tsukumo's curse will lies settled into his bones. Choso must live still.
but when Toji speaks, all there is in him is a solidifying certainty he cannot put a name to. ]
I want you, Toji.
[ with the water's spray interrupted, his vision resolves enough to take in the goliath bent over him. the hulk of Toji's body blots out everything, eclipsing the room in muscle and sinew, the flickering light overhead throwing him into sharp and fitful relief until even his face seems hard to make out for it. like this, Toji is just a shadow, heavy and dense with hands that could crush Choso and a knife that could take him apart with laughable ease, but still he can find no fear worth the name. there is only a shivering energy, an anticipation wound tight in his gut, a tremble in his blood. when he breathes, it's a touch quicker, a bit harder than before.
his hand lifts, warm palm pressed against Toji's left pectoral where scar tissue meets unblemished skin.
[ It was easy to hastily push such a concept out of his head with Choso's chest now bare before him and he waited, like some sick sacrifice, yearning for the pain. He could do this; focus on their meticulous play and keep all of the soft feelings out of it. Choso keeps talking, though, with so much sincerity and a gentleness that Toji barely recognizes. He experienced sweet yearnings and confessions like this before, but never with someone who is just a sexual outlet; never with someone who was a one night stand or someone he repeatedly slept with. He pauses, allowing their gaze to meet, and searches for any signs of uncertainty or dishonesty. No, those were eyes of someone who truly wanted him and he couldn't comprehend why. ]
You..
[ His voice sounds harsh; cold. Like a warning. Like any minute he's just going to lose it and turn this into a war; a massacre.
But that moment never comes. Instead, his voice shifts into something else, something fatherly, like if he were chiding a kid. ]
You don't know what you want, you idiot.
[ It's not him, a scum of the Earth who knew nothing but loneliness most of his life. He shifts the blade and lowers his eyes, finding a place along Choso's chest that he tends to with surprising delicateness. You don't want to cut too deep, you don't want to cut something important. He finds a meaty part of Choso's chest and glides the knife along him, like a figure skate on ice. The cut is clean, the blade has been freshly sharpened. Red pours from the wound and vanishes within the water. He makes another mark on the same side, eyes lifting for a moment to gauge Choso's reaction. ]
[ there is a tipping point here, he knows, there is an edge that he keeps skirting with this man, these meetings, these vices. chains, the cold barrel of a gun, the shining edge of a knife; each time as dangerous as the last. it is a deadly game Choso has taken to playing with this man, the very embodiment of destruction, but each time he walks away from a bloody night he finds himself hungering for more, more, more.
it's just, is the thing. it's just, a comeuppance the world will not give him anywhere but here under Toji's shadow. two brothers dead from his cowardly decisions, six consumed and assimilated by the last standing. Shibuya razed to dust and ash because he was too blind to see the door he tore open out off Yuji's body. too weak to preserve Tsukumo's life, too mortal to do anything but to burn his own to save Yuji's, too much off a curse to fit in, too new to understand the things he needed to to ease the burden on his little brother's shoulders. too selfish, too slow, too much, not enough. even his blood was too toxic to give for another's benefit, his flesh too alien.
it's not your fault, he's been told time and again, by Yuji and Tsukumo and others too dear to see all he was, and their kindness stings like salt in a wound but it's not enough to make up for what he owes for his existence. it's not enough.
so when Toji's knife splits skin, Choso welcomes all that comes with it. two perfect fissures along the grain of the muscle beneath, two thin lines of pain that flare hot and settle into a throbbing kind of agony that persists as the water runs through the wounds. it burns, a cleansing fire that feeds on every sin he holds in him, and as he bleeds out into the warm spray he thinks he can feel the filth on his soul leach out of him too.
with the first cut, he grits his teeth. the second presses his head back against the side of the tub with a thin hiss of breath, wet hair plastered to his jaw, the water running rivulets down his face. spread knees shift up, pressing tight against Toji's sides.
[ As much as Choso welcomes the pain, Toji welcomes the blood, dangerous and deadly, but reduced to nothing once it dilutes with water and washes down the mucky drain. He sets aside the knife on the side of the bath tub to marvel at the spectacle which equally makes his blood turn hot. The way he wants to cut this creature into pieces is immense, but he has a greater obstinance that is fueled by-- what, care? It's something like that, because Toji knows he would feel as if something were missing if he did kill Choso and never saw that pathetic face of his again.
Toji feels his teeth gnash together behind his scarred lips at that realization.
He grabs Choso right under the taunt jaw, hand straddling his windpipe and pressing along the arteries of his neck. He dips down a breath away, scolding him again. ]
You can have this without having me. Without having anything to do with me. Leave your emotions out of it. Haa, you have some major problems talking to me like this.
[ He lets go of his neck and proceeds to tug down Choso's pants, fully exposing him and his hard cock. He rips the seam at the crotch, leaving it into shreds at his ankles. The cold blade of the knife meets at the thick, top surface of Choso's right thigh. ]
[ it’s almost decadent, the way Toji grasps him, from the iron of his grip to the way his fingers push inexorably and dizzyingly against Choso’s artery. it’s a pleasure all its own in the way it brings a deep flush to his face, colour suffusing his neck and shoulders like a spreading stain as his pulse pounds loud and heavy and laborious through his skull. he cannot begin to fathom how he must look, wretched thing that he is, gasping over Toji’s fist with saliva and water running rivulets out the corners of his mouth, eyes hooded and fixated up, up, up at the shadow of death that hovers over him. ]
Maybe.
[ his voice is a wet thing, thick with the effort of keeping the heaviest flow of water out of his mouth, but as Toji rips his pants asunder, Choso loses the battle with the shower’s flow and begins to sputter anew. pathetic creature. bared and bleeding, he still has the audacity to be aroused, his cock an aching weight where it lies full and heavy against his belly. his boots clatter and squeak against the rim, cloth remains tangling around his ankles even as he spreads his knees out as wide as the tub allows. ]
[ It's not how he wanted his evening to go. Well, not entirely, to say the least. Toji cannot help but feel his blood run warm at seeing such a spectacle; the way his partner writhes in pain, but he's in such a vulnerable state. Somewhere between the spits and sputters, words of adoration, however masked it may be with their banter, hit Toji's ears and reel him out of his sadistic state. He didn't want to think about this tonight; think about them or what they were or what their odd and intimate arrangement actually meant. He didn't want to think of his feelings, or the possibility that maybe he would feel some kind of bizarre loss without Choso.
He's incredibly turned on, though, and frustrated. His next swipe is harsher and quick and it's followed by one, two, three red stripes along the top of Choso's thigh. The knife wields down to the inside of his thigh, an area much tender and Toji draws it upward to meet with the other cuts along the top. ]
You trust me too much. I think that is what makes me the most angry about you.
[ Because not just anyone can lay so bare and helpless with Toji. Somehow, Choso does it without concern. He yearns for it. ]
[ will he ever? what a question to ask when Choso is writhing in a dingy tub filling with red water, too wrapped up in the amalgamate pain and perverse pleasure that each burning slice brings to even properly consider the concept. what is self-respect to something so stained and so new to humanity and all its flaws?
one, two, three slices push his head back against the tub side with an audible thud, while the fourth up his inner thigh drags a ragged cry that's more gurgle than breath. his back arches, chest heaving, blood begins to trickle from his curse mark, but still he keeps his hands away and his knees spread like Toji isn't in the perfect position to gut him and be done with it.
[ There is a brief moment that a part of him considers it-- tearing through his core with that sharp blade already drenched in blood, but oddly enough, the thought is fleeting. He doesn't actually dislike this guy, but he knows they both get quite enthralled with the repulsive game they play back and forth with each other. It's exciting for Toji to know he has someone like this in his miserable life; who can satisfy his sadistic behavior and enjoy it himself.
All riled up, he's out of breath, and the knife drops along the bath floor with a clatter before he reaches into his pocket and pulls a sealed condom out, lifting it to tear it with his teeth. The water resumes to rinse the curse as clean as it can, only for more blood to seep out of each meticulous wound. Toji exposes himself, fully hard as he puts the condom on in a moment of silence. ]
I almost feel bad for you.
[ He hauls Choso's leg up, the one against the bathroom wall, folding him over and shoving the other leg over the arm of the bath tub. No lubricant, no other preparation. Somehow, he knows Choso likes it that way. ]
[ and he’d be right; for all that Choso gnashes and snarls most times they meet, he has never once wanted for lubricant. the pain of entry, too, is something to savour, and for all that Choso groans and grits his teeth, he still fights against his own body to relax when Toji takes him. ]
Fuck you and your almnnhgh— almost.
[ big attitude from a bloody wretch whose back still arches up high, cock leaking pre while Toji fills him agonizingly full. ]
[ It's a cramped position, but necessary to keep the blood rinsing off of Choso and his wounds. Toji breathes out loudly once he feels Choso hit the base of his cock, giving out some resistance. Toji presses the top of his own head against the side of this dingy bathroom wall, staring hungrily down at the curse folded down upon himself. He's going to cum all over himself with his legs split like this. ]
You say you want everything from me, does that include my pity too?
[ He makes a throaty noise as he starts to slide back and forth, rutting into Choso slowly. He makes a crooked smile. ]
You look good like this; stained with blood and in pain. I like it.
[ it's sincere, at least, however fucked up it sounds. ]
[ the water is a blessing as much as it is a curse: for as much as it over-saturates and washes away Choso’s blood, it makes exterior control impossible in this position. he cannot pull it away if it gets on Toji, cannot control it if it gets in Toji, cannot bring it to bear properly if Toji decided to tear him open, and yet. and yet, the fluttering urgent alarm this brings only seems to further fan the flames in Choso’s belly.
he looks good like this, after all; stained with blood and in pain, and the thought is a rotten balm that he welcomes for all that it burns. ]
Auh-all of it. All of it!
[ it hurts. every dragging thrust hurts, but it makes the ache in him throb all the harder. it hurts, but his cock still dribbles and twitches, slave to the twisted winding pleasure all knotted up inside the cage of his bones. it hurts, but he cannot, will not look away from Toji, even though his arms shudder and his hands curl over his face to hide from the water flow, heated gaze peering between spread fingers. ]
[ Toji is aware of that, and to him, it's also enthralling, this risky dance they are performing with each other. He's familiar with the feel of Choso, how hot his flesh gets, how he smells, how his heart races and how each drag of his hips feels so good, building up and up and twisting a knot in Toji's stomach. He chews on his own lip as he observes him, wondering what on Earth he has done to earn Choso's attention and desire. He is quiet for a moment, besides the slapping of his wet skin and his throaty breathing.
It really does sound like a confession. How did this happen? Maybe he's confused? Because surely not.
Toji turns his pelvis slightly, thrusting deeper and harder, hitting his partner's prostate. ]
You're so cruel to ... hah ... yourself. Wanting everything of me brings nothing desirable.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
something isn’t right with you, choso. what could it be? ]
I got tired of being angry.
[ he speaks as he looks around the lobby, idly picking out the little details that set it apart from the usual love hotel. even while Toji pays, he doesn’t leave the man’s side. ]
I want to be greedy instead. So here I am. Taking my fill.
no subject
The key is spit out from the kiosk and he puts it in his pocket along with his dagger, and since it's eerily absent here, his hand clasps the back of Choso's head, grabbing a fistful of hair. ]
You're just gonna take it, ah? That it?
[ He pulls him along to their room. ]
no subject
stupid, greedy curse. it like he was hoping for this; it isn’t the same if he can’t dig his heels in just to feel the futility of it. ]
‘Greedy’ doesn’t mean ‘doormat’-!
[ doesn’t it? ]
no subject
As for him, he starts to undress, standing outside of the bath, the bare, over head light flickering now and then. The hotel room itself smelled of ash.
The shirt gets peeled off and the knife gets placed on the sink counter as he talks: ]
What do you want from me? This greed you're talking about, tell me.
no subject
sprawled on his back in the tub, Choso can feel under his palms where the enamel has begun to crack from age, where old soap scum still lingers. the flickering of the light keeps drawing his gaze up, so when the water turns on it catches him in the eyes, turns the world into a stinging smear of shitty fluorescents and shittier tiles. as his clothing soaks through, the outline of his hard-on is impossible to hide.
sputtering and coughing under the deluge, Choso tries to ward it away from his face as he squints up, shoe squeaking against the tub in his fruitless attempt to sit up. ]
Everything.
[ his voice is made thick by the rivulets running into his mouth, his attempts to breathe out harder to keep the water from going up his nose again. ]
I want your attention. I want your touch. I want the bruises you give me because they make me think of you every time they ache.
[ bold, unabashed. in this dirty dank place, he spits this confession out with iron-tang water, his offering to this dreadful little altar they’re making of the room. ]
I want your cock, because when you use me, I can think I’m giving you something no one else can. I can be selfish even when I give you my whole body.
1/2
It's a love confession, whether Choso recognizes that or not.
Slowly, Toji settles his gaze on the curse as he continues to spill out his desires, unmasked and unashamed. It was bold to talk like this to Toji, but he can't help but recognize just how sincere Choso sounds in this moment. Nobody has ever desired him, really. Not in a way that Choso is expressing. Nobody but her of course. He doesn't understand. He's an anomaly, a throw away, and he thought for certain that nobody else in his sad and miserable life would ever truly feel that way about him again.
And he was fine with that, because deep down, he felt like it's exactly what he deserved. He deserves it after being such a disappointment to his clan, a disappointment to his son. He also knows if his wife would still alive, she would be disappointed in him too. Yet, he can't seem to pick the pieces off of the floor again; he doesn't know how to fix the mistakes he has wrought, so he doesn't bother cause it's easier that way.
Toji's eyes have grown slightly through all of this, but they drop down to a tired gaze as he reaches over and take the knife by the handle. ]
2/2
In a simple swipe, he slashes down Choso's shirt, cutting, then tearing with his bare hands, splitting the cloth clean in two and exposing Choso's pale skin. ]
Talk like that again and I'll kill you.
[ Despite the intense move, the knife doesn't touch Choso's skin at all; he aims with such precision and knew exactly what strength to use. ]
no subject
cursewill lies settled into his bones. Choso must live still.but when Toji speaks, all there is in him is a solidifying certainty he cannot put a name to. ]
I want you, Toji.
[ with the water's spray interrupted, his vision resolves enough to take in the goliath bent over him. the hulk of Toji's body blots out everything, eclipsing the room in muscle and sinew, the flickering light overhead throwing him into sharp and fitful relief until even his face seems hard to make out for it. like this, Toji is just a shadow, heavy and dense with hands that could crush Choso and a knife that could take him apart with laughable ease, but still he can find no fear worth the name. there is only a shivering energy, an anticipation wound tight in his gut, a tremble in his blood. when he breathes, it's a touch quicker, a bit harder than before.
his hand lifts, warm palm pressed against Toji's left pectoral where scar tissue meets unblemished skin.
he swallows, thickly. ]
You can kill me, but I won't stay away.
no subject
You..
[ His voice sounds harsh; cold. Like a warning. Like any minute he's just going to lose it and turn this into a war; a massacre.
But that moment never comes. Instead, his voice shifts into something else, something fatherly, like if he were chiding a kid. ]
You don't know what you want, you idiot.
[ It's not him, a scum of the Earth who knew nothing but loneliness most of his life. He shifts the blade and lowers his eyes, finding a place along Choso's chest that he tends to with surprising delicateness. You don't want to cut too deep, you don't want to cut something important. He finds a meaty part of Choso's chest and glides the knife along him, like a figure skate on ice. The cut is clean, the blade has been freshly sharpened. Red pours from the wound and vanishes within the water. He makes another mark on the same side, eyes lifting for a moment to gauge Choso's reaction. ]
cw: blood, description of injury
it's just, is the thing. it's just, a comeuppance the world will not give him anywhere but here under Toji's shadow. two brothers dead from his cowardly decisions, six consumed and assimilated by the last standing. Shibuya razed to dust and ash because he was too blind to see the door he tore open out off Yuji's body. too weak to preserve Tsukumo's life, too mortal to do anything but to burn his own to save Yuji's, too much off a curse to fit in, too new to understand the things he needed to to ease the burden on his little brother's shoulders. too selfish, too slow, too much, not enough. even his blood was too toxic to give for another's benefit, his flesh too alien.
it's not your fault, he's been told time and again, by Yuji and Tsukumo and others too dear to see all he was, and their kindness stings like salt in a wound but it's not enough to make up for what he owes for his existence. it's not enough.
so when Toji's knife splits skin, Choso welcomes all that comes with it. two perfect fissures along the grain of the muscle beneath, two thin lines of pain that flare hot and settle into a throbbing kind of agony that persists as the water runs through the wounds. it burns, a cleansing fire that feeds on every sin he holds in him, and as he bleeds out into the warm spray he thinks he can feel the filth on his soul leach out of him too.
with the first cut, he grits his teeth. the second presses his head back against the side of the tub with a thin hiss of breath, wet hair plastered to his jaw, the water running rivulets down his face. spread knees shift up, pressing tight against Toji's sides.
you don't know what you want.
doesn't he? ]
I know I want-- I want this. I want more.
no subject
Toji feels his teeth gnash together behind his scarred lips at that realization.
He grabs Choso right under the taunt jaw, hand straddling his windpipe and pressing along the arteries of his neck. He dips down a breath away, scolding him again. ]
You can have this without having me. Without having anything to do with me. Leave your emotions out of it. Haa, you have some major problems talking to me like this.
[ He lets go of his neck and proceeds to tug down Choso's pants, fully exposing him and his hard cock. He rips the seam at the crotch, leaving it into shreds at his ankles. The cold blade of the knife meets at the thick, top surface of Choso's right thigh. ]
Nobody should ever speak words of want about me.
no subject
Maybe.
[ his voice is a wet thing, thick with the effort of keeping the heaviest flow of water out of his mouth, but as Toji rips his pants asunder, Choso loses the battle with the shower’s flow and begins to sputter anew. pathetic creature. bared and bleeding, he still has the audacity to be aroused, his cock an aching weight where it lies full and heavy against his belly. his boots clatter and squeak against the rim, cloth remains tangling around his ankles even as he spreads his knees out as wide as the tub allows. ]
But I wuh-wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.
no subject
He's incredibly turned on, though, and frustrated. His next swipe is harsher and quick and it's followed by one, two, three red stripes along the top of Choso's thigh. The knife wields down to the inside of his thigh, an area much tender and Toji draws it upward to meet with the other cuts along the top. ]
You trust me too much. I think that is what makes me the most angry about you.
[ Because not just anyone can lay so bare and helpless with Toji. Somehow, Choso does it without concern. He yearns for it. ]
You have no respect for yourself. Will you ever?
[ Not the first time he has said this. ]
no subject
one, two, three slices push his head back against the tub side with an audible thud, while the fourth up his inner thigh drags a ragged cry that's more gurgle than breath. his back arches, chest heaving, blood begins to trickle from his curse mark, but still he keeps his hands away and his knees spread like Toji isn't in the perfect position to gut him and be done with it.
there's that trust, implicit and complete. ]
Nnhhuh-no, 'm sorry, khuh-can't. Fuck, Tohhji--!
no subject
All riled up, he's out of breath, and the knife drops along the bath floor with a clatter before he reaches into his pocket and pulls a sealed condom out, lifting it to tear it with his teeth. The water resumes to rinse the curse as clean as it can, only for more blood to seep out of each meticulous wound. Toji exposes himself, fully hard as he puts the condom on in a moment of silence. ]
I almost feel bad for you.
[ He hauls Choso's leg up, the one against the bathroom wall, folding him over and shoving the other leg over the arm of the bath tub. No lubricant, no other preparation. Somehow, he knows Choso likes it that way. ]
no subject
Fuck you and your almnnhgh— almost.
[ big attitude from a bloody wretch whose back still arches up high, cock leaking pre while Toji fills him agonizingly full. ]
no subject
You say you want everything from me, does that include my pity too?
[ He makes a throaty noise as he starts to slide back and forth, rutting into Choso slowly. He makes a crooked smile. ]
You look good like this; stained with blood and in pain. I like it.
[ it's sincere, at least, however fucked up it sounds. ]
no subject
he looks good like this, after all; stained with blood and in pain, and the thought is a rotten balm that he welcomes for all that it burns. ]
Auh-all of it. All of it!
[ it hurts. every dragging thrust hurts, but it makes the ache in him throb all the harder. it hurts, but his cock still dribbles and twitches, slave to the twisted winding pleasure all knotted up inside the cage of his bones. it hurts, but he cannot, will not look away from Toji, even though his arms shudder and his hands curl over his face to hide from the water flow, heated gaze peering between spread fingers. ]
Even the worst parts. All of it.
no subject
It really does sound like a confession. How did this happen? Maybe he's confused? Because surely not.
Toji turns his pelvis slightly, thrusting deeper and harder, hitting his partner's prostate. ]
You're so cruel to ... hah ... yourself. Wanting everything of me brings nothing desirable.