billionaire brat(s) | iwaoi

58

Is anyone even reading this shi anymore bruh 😭

Cw: little nsfw (not iwaoi)
Cw: mention of seggul assault (not described)

Cw: mention of seggual assual (not described)

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"Nghh— ahn— wait, stop—stop."

Uki blinked innocently at him, withdrawing his hand. The curve of their mouth was teasing and evil.

There was an annoyed scowl on Hotaru's face which he didn't bother to hide. And it's not like he could hide it, the position wasn't helping either.

Uki sat crosslegged between Hotaru's bare legs, his thighs resting on either side of Uki.

"I hate you." He muttered. They both knew what he meant. Their hate was equal to love.

Uki rolled his eyes as he grabbed Hotaru's thighs, pulling him even closer to his own waist, "you should honestly find some new insults, 'Taru," he smiled, "its getting extremely boring."

He jerked upright with a gasp as Uki caressed the inside of his thigh with a thumb.

"Do you enjoy torturing me?," his breath stuttered. It was starting to hurt. Down there. Not that Uki cared. In fact, he was keen on driving him insane with the pain, ". . . It hurts."

"Mhm. That's what I was going for."

He failed to understand why Uki liked seeing him like this. All out of breath and naked and covered in sweat and eyes low and hazy.

But then again, Uki liked power. Liked the fact that he could make anyone dance on his fingertips. Liked the feeling of sovereignty.

Uki liked making people cum in fear.

He wouldn't say he wasn't scared. Who wouldn't be? Scared that Uki would get bored. Surely this repetitive sex was making him want something else.

Uki craved change. Hated the same thing over and over again.

Hotaru trusted him even though it came with the price of intrusive thoughts.

Uki was snapping his fingers in front of his face, "are you at your limit?," his eyes were worried, "you zoned out."

He blinked, stared down at Uki's long fingers clutching his leg. Thumb gently rubbing his inner thigh. The other hand wrapped around his dick.

It's head was pink and sensitive. Probably one stroke and he was gone. His pre-cum was slowly sliding down Uki's gloved hand but he didn't seem to care, looking at him and only him with uncertain eyes.

He never realised how beautiful Uki's eyes were.

"Should I stop?" Uki was asking.

"Mhm?"

"Should we stop?"

"I don't know."

". . . You don't know?"

"It hurts."

"Should I make it fast? Tell me what to do."

"No, don't. Just. . ."

Can you lay down next to me and hold me? It hurts all over. Can you run your fingers along my back instead of my thighs?

He didn't say that, of course. He couldn't. Instead, Hotaru dropped his head back on the pillow and stared up at the ceiling, ". . . Do you think Hajime is happy?"

"Okay!," Uki took his hand back and jumped ul from the bed. He chucked the wet glove into the trash can and shook his head, "how dare you mention your son while your dick is in my hand."