Blame Me

Love-hate

Kokichi stared ahead at the TV, his round, violet eyes wide in horror. His heart was racing far beyond the average speed, and it only got faster when out of his peripheral vision, he saw Saihara leaning closer to the screen, face flushed and eyes gleaming with excitement. He could barely breathe, all of his air was stuck in his lungs. He hadn't even noticed he was holding his breath until he began to feel light-headed. He exhaled through his nose, tensing up and preparing to leave. However, before he could, Saihara began to speak.

"What do you think?" Saihara's voice was more monotone than Kokichi was used to, deep and quiet, almost lustful.

Kokichi drew in a breath, trying to replicate a calm composure. He couldn't let Shuichi see how frightened he was. As he spoke, he avoided Saihara's eyes, refusing to look into the revolting olive green color, "I don't like it." He replied honestly, standing up and glaring over at Shuichi. He was surprised to see that instead of appearing angry, Saihara looked confused. "You... don't like Danganronpa?" He murmured, almost as if even the thought of the purple-haired boy not liking the show seemed impossible.

"No, I don't." He said coldly, taking a step towards the exit. He stared in horror as Shuichi quickly bolted upward, shoving his way towards the boy. Right as Saihara reached him, he seemed to have regained control over himself. He put one hand on Kokichi's shoulder as the small boy turned around to try to make a run for it. "Please. Don't go." Saihara's voice was desperate, laced with longing and fear. Kokichi looked back at him, puzzled. What does he want?

Shuichi pulled him in for a tight hug, wrapping arms around him from behind, Saihara's cheek rested on top of Kokichi's head. Warmth covered every inch of Kokichi's tiny body. He could feel shivers running down his spine as the taller boy began to hold him tighter, pressing his body up to him. "I need you, Ouma... please don't go..." Kokichi ripped himself away from the boy, staring up at him furiously. "You've barely known me for a week!" He spat out, his tone harsh.

"Kokichi... I... want to get to know you better... I know that we've only gone out once and well... made love... but... I want you to be more than just a one night stand, Kokichi... I- I need you." Kokichi cringed hard at the term 'made love'. What the two of them had done was nowhere near love, merely just lust driven further by the tension of the situation. Despite the poor use of words that Shuichi had used, Kokichi couldn't help but feel less angry towards him. Sure, he was a disgusting pervert who got off to real people dying, but there had to be more to Saihara. And... although Kokichi hated to admit it, deep down, he had feelings for Saihara.

Kokichi let out a sigh, looking off to the side. "...What do you want, Shuichi?" He asked quietly, avoiding the tall boy's gaze. "I want you to stay. Please." Saihara's voice was desperate, pleading. He wanted Ouma so badly. It seemed pathetic. However, despite that, he couldn't help but look up at Saihara and nod. "Okay. I will." Saihara's eyes lit up with hope, and a wide grin was instantly plastered onto his sweaty, disgusting face.

Kokichi's heart began to race again as Shuichi pulled him in close, giving him a small peck on the cheek. He felt his face flushing, and he let out a quiet whimper. The feeling of Shuichi rubbing his hands on his soft, skinny sides made him shiver in anticipation. He dug his face into Shuichi's arm, his breath becoming heavy from arousal. He hated how Saihara made him feel. He hated it so damn much. He couldn't help it though, everything Saihara did made his heart flutter. He rejected his feelings towards him, he couldn't admit that he fell for a stranger.

Soon, Shuichi had picked him up and began to carry him bridal-style into the bedroom. Kokichi looked up in curiosity at Saihara's face. From the angle that he was seeing him from, Saihara looked almost attractive. He reached a hand up, stroking Shuichi's sharp, carved out jawline. He heard a shutter come from the other boy, and he noticed that Saihara had quickened his pace. In no time, Kokichi had been placed on the bed.

Their clothes were quickly stripped off, thrown across the room. Immediately after, Kokichi passionately kissed the blue-haired boy, shoving their warm lips together. Their kiss was intense and sloppy, strands of spit hanging between them every time they stopped for a breath. Ouma wanted Shuichi more than anything. He longed for the warm feeling of Saihara ramming deep inside of him. He pushed Saihara's hot, sweaty face into his, their lips clashing. The kiss was broken up eventually, and Kokichi was swiftly shoved down, his ass left high up in the air. He felt Saihara shove his thick cock into him, and he let out a loud, high-pitched moan.

He gripped onto the bedsheets, letting out a shrill series of lustful moans. Saihara's pace was fast, his movements rough and sharp. Kokichi let out a gasp as Saihara grabbed his neck from behind, moving his head to the side a bit so he could press their lips together. Kokichi was shocked by how aggressive Saihara's movements were, however, he enjoyed them. He loved the feeling of Saihara's hand pressed hard against his jawbone. Their kiss ended, and Shuichi paused momentarily, flipping Ouma onto his back. Shortly after, Saihara thrusted back into the small boy. Ouma wrapped his arms around Saihara, pulling him close. He put his head into the crook of Saihara's neck, his eyes squeezed shut. He was shaking from pleasure, and he barely noticed how loud his moans had become.

His back arched as he came, long ropes of cum spraying onto Shuichi's chest. He heard Shuichi let out a loud, deep groan and felt the other boy's warm seed filling him. Kokichi was panting now, and the couple stayed in their position for a while, both of them taking in what had just occurred. Guilt was beginning to seep into Kokichi. Had he really had sex with Saihara again? He enjoyed it this time. Did that make him a whore? So many negative questions filled his head, but they all were shoved away when Saihara lovingly pushed their lips together. This time, it wasn't intense, it was a small, loving gesture.

He wasn't a whore. He loved Saihara. He loved everything about the boy, even the parts he pretended to hate. When they finally broke apart, Saihara carried him into the bathroom and began to affectionately bathe him. Afterward, Kokichi was dressed by the taller boy, and the two of them retired to the bedroom for the night, cuddling up together. Kokichi smiled at the warmth that Saihara provided him, completely forgetting about the boy's revolting nature. Kokichi began to drift to sleep, and soon, everything faded to black.