Fifty Shades of EraserMic (Shades of EraserMic #1)

The Edge

Hizashi loved the sound of Shouta's singing. He'd heard it the night they dipped into food play, heard it a few times over the soft humming but to hear the vocalization of those words? To hear his husband's voice bouncing off the bathroom walls, trembling and so damn sweet it made his heart hurt? It was the highlight of his life. While his husband didn't pitch his voice on high notes it was nice.

However the mere fact that Shouta was happy enough to sing in the shower? To sing at all? That meant a lot. He honestly was in awe to stumble into the bedroom sighing out after tucking up Eri, reading to her and brushing out her hair before putting it in braids like she wanted. It was a relief when he had finally gotten away when those pale lashes of hers began drooping towards her pink cheeks.

When her breath was deepening by the end of her story. Then he had begun crooning a soft, sweet song to her until she fell asleep did, he managed to come downstairs to a little concert of his own. The sound of Shouta's voice ringing to him from the bathroom, mixing with the splashing and pelting of the water, had his heart jumping to his throat with delight. Ever since the erotic humiliation he had been swamped with guilt.

His husband, on the other hand, was anything but guilty. In fact, it was another of those rare instances where he was happy. Euphoric. Not even the rough week of a new training course had swayed his husband the slightest bit. That pink flush on his cheeks, the sparkle in his eyes and the way he smiled so much easier at him when they were alone were all evidence of that happiness. He did feel proud he did that.

But he cringed to think of the cause. While it was one thing to talk dirty during sex, he felt he'd been unnecessarily rough and cruel to the black-haired man whether he wanted to admit it or not. Shouta cried. He wasn't going to say he would never do it with Shouta again but he certainly didn't want to do it any time soon. And his husband understood. It was an intense thing emotionally on both of them.

Though he had the firm belief that it wasn't as hard on him as it was on Shouta. Anyone would be upset after a day of mocking, demeaning, belittling and nitpicking things apart. Hurt. But his husband had thrived off it despite the tears in his eyes during that spanking. The embarrassed shift to his eyes as he scrubbed and did everything without a word to him. It was a toll, but he had been warned ahead of time that it would be.

And while it made his husband so happy, he wasn't sure he could do it again so soon. Sure, he had thrown in a few degrading things in when they were having sex but nowhere near as heated as it would have been. It was weak and even Shouta knew it. He knew it. It was hard to shake the strange guilt when he saw that happiness on his husband's face, and he tried to hide it. Tried to forget the crueler things he'd said to him.

Because yes, God, yes it was fucking hot to have sex on the living room floor. Yes, he'd burned when Shouta had slid and grinded against his thigh. Had his hands in his hair. The whimpers and squirms before he'd needed the bathroom. The way his head had rested gently against his knee as his hand clung to him fiercely. As if he would fly away the moment he let go. And yes, he liked hearing his husband wailing back those vulgar words.

But everything else? It weighed on him. It had him contacting his personal therapist to talk it out. To explain everything only to get some rather sage advice. If something wasn't making him happy but made Shouta happy then they needed to talk about it. It would only build up, bother him more and eventually it would be taken out on Shouta. On himself. On their marriage. His therapist told him he needed direct about it.

He needed open communication on how he felt in the aftermath of the erotic humiliation. He had hesitated at first at the mere idea of it. However, with Shouta tucked into his arms, his face in the black-haired man's throat did he find himself whispering all of it. Spilling his guts to his husband feeling those arms gradually tightening around him until Shouta was murmuring back to him. Agreeing it was difficult, but he wanted him to know he loved it.