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“You want to what?”
Takemura sounds... well, his expression, his tone, it’s not as bad as what V had expected. There’s no disgust, no disgrace or judgement, just a sort of baffled confusion that, well, anyone might experience under the... special circumstances surrounding the request that’s just come out of the merc’s mouth. He sinks to his knees in a flash, places his body between Takemura’s knees with a hand settled lightly against each and a pleading look on his face that’s not unlike that usual kicked-puppy expression he puts on when he intends to ask nicely-- An image he doesn’t often grace others with. “Look, c’mon, I’ll play nice an’ everythin’,” he says, tempts, perhaps in part begs, “None a’ that bratty shit, an’ I’ll owe ya’ one-- ain’t ever gotta do it again, just this once if you’re up for it.” The confusion doesn’t exactly leave Takemuras face, but it softens, putty instead of glass.
“This is... an unusual request, you understand. I have not done this particular.... play, before.”
Really, not unexpected. Takemura is experienced, to say the least, but experienced doesn’t always mean well-versed in the world of things not often asked for so boldly. V would like to think they’ve broken that ice. Approached the point in which asking boldly for something a bit more bizarre wouldn’t be a deal breaker. His thumbs rub nervous against Takemura’s knees, the subtle urge to bite at his lip in both submissive gesture and sheer anxiety. “Fuck, you want me to say please or somethin’?” he mumbles soft, the possible hope that Goro won’t take him up on the offer.
Instead he furrows his brows, leans back against the chair, casts his gaze this way and that in turning thought. “I do not wish to make you uncomfortable.”
“Wouldn’t ask if I was uncomfortable.”
“This will not be awkward for you?”
“Again, Goro, wouldn’t be askin’ if--”
“Yes, yes, I know,” the exasperation is.. evident, to say the least. He shakes his head lightly, sighs softly, and V is damn well prepared to put his hopes for his request fulfilled aside, to crawl into Takemura’s lap instead and settle there in apology for breaking the boundary too soon, falling through the ice and right into hypothermia for the two of them- “You remember the safeword, yes?”
Oh hell yes. It takes a second for V to remember Takemura cannot, in fact, read minds. “Afterlife,” he chirps, fingers thrumming excitedly against the fabric of the bodyguards pants. “Won’t forget it. Never do. Don’t really intend on usin’ it, though-”
“But you will, if you find you are in deeper than you expected.”
“Of course--” a pause, a beat, a mischievous thought-- or perhaps, now, not so mischevious. He has made the request, after all, and though somewhat hesitant Takemura has agreed. V cocks his head to the side, rests it gently against Goro’s thigh and looks up at him through thick lashes. “Of course, daddy.”
It feels weird to say, to say the least. Takemura tenses for the briefest moment and V is sure he agrees, and for a moment begins to wonder if he’ll back out, say the word, leave V to be with his silent judgment-- But he doesn’t. And the feeling subsides, as it will continue to the more V dares to utter that word through the rest of the night. Hell, maybe in a few more nights to come, depending how the two of them find this little fantasy of V’s to play out.
Takemura lets out a deep breath, and V closes his eyes to the feeling of fingers brushing gently across the side of his face. The hairtie holding V’s bun is pulled loose, and in place of the tension of hair held tight is Goro’s fingers carding through it with a gentleness not unlike what he usually brings to the table. But gentle is not in order for tonight, and the feeling quickly changes to match the pace of the request. V lets out a soft gasp as his hair is pulled tight, electricity down his spine. “Daddy,” he whispers softly, opening his eyes to look up at Takemura expectantly, waiting, ready to be ordered, to be guided. He lifts his head within what the grip in his hair will allow, sliding his hands up Takemura’s thighs and settling them gently against his crotch. V swallows hard, shifts to sit back against his heels, trying to look sweet. Trying to look submissive. Trying to be good, as hard as that is, as much as every muscle in him screaming to be the brat he’s so used to being. “I-- May I touch you, sir?”
Takemura’s eyes look over him like a wolf might look over prey, and V shivers under the gaze like it’s something new to him. Humming softly he removes his hand from V’s hair, resting his elbows up on the back of the chair and watching, intent, as he always does, as he’s been trained to do. “Yes.”
That’s more than enough for V. Once still hands begin to move in gentle rubbing motions, robotic eyes flicking between Takemura’s face and the slowly growing tent of his pants, that spark of what’s hopefully excitement and not a virus of some sort running through his spine again. He could use his hands, could do this the conventional way. But this is far from conventional already, and what’s a bit more fun, huh? He leans forward slowly, eyes Takemura as he does until it hurts too much to look up that far, and then all focus is on the zipper of his pants. Moving his hands to give himself a bit more room, fiddling with the zipper with teeth and tongue, clumsy and unpracticed. There are few things V can say he hasn’t tried, and removing someones pants with his teeth are among those things-- As are calling a man appropriately aged to be his father ‘daddy’. Takemura chuckles, like it’s funny, and fuck, maybe it is. That hand comes back to brush through his hair, a gentle encouragement for this fools task V has taken on-- But fuck, he does it, and then its back to hands because fuck doing the rest with his mouth, that zipper was hard enough. He pulls Goro’s cock from his pants, eyeing it like it’s somewhere between a beast and the sweetest damn piece of candy V’s ever had the pleasure of tasting. Mouth open he damn well intends to begin his crusade of getting that cock deep down his throat, but the hand in his hair stops him short.
“You must ask, first,” Takemura says, as if scolding V for breaking such a simple and well-known rule of the game that Goro didn’t even know existed until maybe five minutes ago. There’s that urge again, to say something biting, to stick out his tongue, to make Takemura tame him. But the point isn’t to be tamed. It’s to be used. V swallows hard, closes his eyes for a moment to drag himself to the place he needs to mentally be, and when he reopens them it’s with a newfound devotion to doing this the right way. The way he’s asked for it to play out. Embarrassment be damned.
“Can I suck your cock, daddy?” he says, voice soft and sweet and gaze even more so, as he resists the urge to shift and find some way to relieve the aching in his own dick. “Promise I’ll do it good, make ya’ feel great-- That’s all I want, ya’know,” he digs his nails into the fabric of Takemura’s pants, grinning a bit. “T’ make ya’ feel good.”
“And you think you know how to do that?”
Well that’s a turn. A pleasant one, at that. V is suddenly curious, so much more invested, and he’d cock his damn head to the side again if Takemura weren’t holding it in place with that reinvigorated grip on his hair. “I dunno,” he mutters softly, fighting against impatience. “Think I might need ya’ to teach me, daddy.”
“I am sure you know the basics, already,” he continues, and shit, it’s so much more than V had asked for. “But there is perfection in practice, and guidance can never hurt. I will guide you.”
‘Fuck yeah’ is what V wants to say. What comes out instead is another soft little whine as he shifts on his feet again, longing against that pull in his hair. “Then guide away, sir,” he responds in soft tone, giving gentle strokes to Takemura’s cock just to feel it harden in his grip. Goro’s other hand comes to join its twin, one on each side of V’s head, strong and calloused from years of hard work, years of practice in fighting and killing. A few weeks practice in holding him softly, caressing him gently, touching the spots that turn his legs into jelly. They pull him forward, thumbs pressing against his bottom lip and shit, it takes a minute to get the idea, but V catches on to everything eventually. He opens wide, eyes on the prize that is the dick before him, and Takemura gives it to him. Guides him to take it into his mouth. Excitement might be getting the best of him, because simply feeling it against his tongue, the heat of it in his mouth, its enough to make V shiver, make him moan quietly in the back of his throat. He moves his tongue against the bottom of Takemura’s cock, lapping at it as he’s guided to take it further and further in. Only when he starts to choke does Goro ease his pushing, and even the man trained in keeping himself quiet and cold groans at the feeling of V’s mouth around him. He settles there, in V’s throat, waiting for the soft struggle the younger man gives on instinct to calm. And then he moves.
Fuck, he moves.
V groans as he does, the ‘guidance’ offered little more than pure command. He could fight against Takemura’s hands moving his head, but it would be a futile battle. Takemura is strong, his grip secure, and V is already hopelessly in deep if his painfully hard cock is anything to go by. He chokes and slobbers against the cock Takemura is shoving down his throat, gagging with mechanical hands scrabbling to find purchase on the older mans pants to ground him against the onslaught. V could try his best to gaze up at Takemura, to be defiantly sexy, but ultimately it’s easier to just close his eyes, to whine around the fucking of his face and just hold on for the ride. He wants to touch himself. God, does he want to touch himself. He’d kill to undo his pants, to pull out his cock and jerk himself off like a cheap whore, but he doesn’t. V’s self control has undergone quite the testing these past few weeks, and damn if he didn’t come out on the other side of it a far more controlled man. The request and subsequent promise. I promise I’ll be good. Play nice.
Jerking himself off before Takemura’s even had the chance to fuck his ass isn’t playing nice-- Not that he wouldn’t let Goro fuck him even if he came now. Not that he wouldn’t, couldn’t come twice, hell, thrice, maybe, if Takemura played his cards right. That music that is the groans and moans of Goro and the way he sputters around his cock is enough to start derailing the train of thought V had going on. His legs shake with the effort of holding himself up while being pushed and pulled like this, his knuckles turning white from how hard hes digging into Takemura’s thighs. Somewhere in his throat V surprises himself as he tries to moan out ‘daddy’, the sound little more than a gurgle and a hum with a dick shoved down his throat.
“Your throat-- I can see why so many men want to shove their cocks down it--” Takemura is not the talkative type, both in day-to-day life and in sex. The words are enough of a surprise for V to at least attempt to devote some attention to it, though they slip in one ear and out the other what with most of his focus being on the feeling of getting his throat fucked. Just as V thinks he might find the rhythm, might be able to focus on the words Takemura speaks instead of the raw feeling, he’s pulled off of his cock, mouth still urged to stay open by Goro’s thumb-- thumb, as one hand moves, jerking his dick in a frantic pace until V can feel his body tense under the hands on his thighs, and on instinct he sticks out his tongue, catches Goro’s cum on it as he groans quietly. Fuck. Fuck. V closes his eyes once more just to focus on the feeling, the sensations, and shit, it’s a lot. There’s a voice in the back of his head yelling about what a good BD this would make, and the temptation of making one for personal use is so great he has to shove it away before he acts on it.
Takemura’s other hand comes back to his face, and he is gently guided to rise to his knees, head tilted up to Goro in submission, reverence, perhaps. His mouth lays open, cum still on his tongue, waiting for direction. Waiting to be obedient. Takemura’s thumb rubs against his lower lip, eyes taking in the site. V’s pretty damn sure it’s a good one. Better be.
“Swallow.”
And so V does. Even opens his mouth afterwards to show it.
“Good boy.”
Fuck yeah he is. V nuzzles softly against Takemura’s left hand, legs still shaking, heart still pounding. His grip, at the very least, softens against Goro’s thigh, thumbs rubbing soft little circles in silent apology for what may very well be bruises under those pants from how hard V had gripped there. He swallows, he mutters, “Thank you.”
And his hair is pulled harsh. That’s strike one.
“Thank you, Sir. Daddy.” V corrects himself, quick, looking up at Goro with pleading eyes. The correction is enough, the pleading look accepted as apology, and V’s hair is released, leaving the man to sink back down to sit against his heels as he rests his face against Takemura’s thigh once more. God, he wants nothing more than to touch his own dick, to chase his own pleasure. “G...Goro,” he whines softly, and perhaps it’s the desperation in his voice that prevents that from being strike two.
“My good boy,” Takemura mutters in response. He’s taking time. Catching his breath. Letting V suffer from a hardon unlike any he’s had before. V could scream. Could throw a fit, could go back on his promise and start being a brat, make Takemura stop him from touching himself. Self control. Self control. “Sir, please,” he whispers softly, and the pleading look makes it’s second on-stage appearance. Unfortunately for him Takemura is now rather invested in the little game that V started, and a ‘please’ on it’s own will get him no where but deeper in this mess.
“Please, what?”
“’Scuse me?”
“What do you want, V?”
V’s groan is not one of pleasure. Begging has never been his forte, his show earlier the extent of what he’s generally ever gone in a session, And were it any other time he’d whine and groan and ask nicely not to be made to debase himself in such a way. But there is something special about this, isn’t there? It fits with the game, fits with the fantasy, and... well. Right this moment V would do just about anything to get Takemura to just pin him down and fuck him. At least begging is the way to be specific. To tell Takemura just how he wants to be used. To give that last bit of permission for Goro to fuck him positively stupid and leave him bruised for the morning after.
“Want you t’ take me,” his voice is soft, breathless. “Want you t’ pin me t’ the bed an’ fuck me. Hard. So hard I ain’t gonna be walkin’ for the next coupla days. Want people t’ ask me why I’m walkin’ funny, make me come up with excuses--” this is making the situation downstairs worse. “Just... take me. Use me,” he looks up at Takemura, then, expression nothing short of sheer submission. “Please, daddy?”
There’s the facade of consideration, of brief internal debate, as though there’s any question on what should, what will come next.
And then Takemura gestures to the bed, and V cannot get there quick enough. He leaves a trail of clothes in his wake, damn nearing tearing off his tank top and his pants. The only time he ever seems to lay normally across his bed is when he’s with Takemura-- And once he is laid there, wrists pinned on either side of his head and Takemura’s chest warm against his back, V feels no need to move. This is where Goro wants him, and so this is where he will stay, submissive and sweet-- and for a moment, Goro join him in that mentality.
“You are doing well?”
It takes a minute. A beat. A deep breathe to understand what he actually means-- Takemura is always so careful. Long-term side effect of having been the bodyguard of one of the most important men on the planet, but that tinge of sweetness in his voice is something V cannot place. Something that comes from Takemura alone, and V could almost laugh. No ones ever really bothered to be careful and sweet with him before. “I’m-- I’m fine, please-- Keep goin’?”
Takemura does not speak, but he does nod-- Not that V can see it, with the only thing currently in his range of vision behind the hand he’s keeping carefully held in the exact spot it had been pinned by Goro’s hand to the bed. He lays there in anticipation, resisting the urge to squirm, to move, to rise as he feels the man atop him move away, reaching. The sound of a drawer open and shut, a prolonged silence that makes V’s skin crawl, and then far too cold lube against his ass that makes him jolt and gasp in a disgustingly undignified manner-- And Takemura laughs, soft and quick. Definitely not helping the growing flush on his face, that’s for damn sure. Fingers twist into the thin blankets on V’s bed as lube coated fingers begin to work at him, painful in their languid movements. “Fuck,” he groans softly, turning to press his face into the blankets. It isn’t long before V finds himself rocking back against those fingers stretching him, giving him the ache he’s longed for since he dared ask to call Takemura daddy. Once more his hands itch to stroke himself, to chase orgasm with Goro fingerfucking him, but as sweet as it sounds it isn’t what he wants. “Please,” eyes closed tight in concentration, focus on the feeling, “Daddy, please, fuck me--”
“I will,” Goro chides, as though he’s a petulant child, asking for too much too quickly. V is left to whine as the little bit of stimulation he had been gifted with is pulled from him, left to shiver there and wait for what he hopes will come next-- and it does, thank fuck. The head of Takemura’s cock pressed up against his ass, V burying his head in anticipation into the blankets and taking shaking breaths, and when Goro begins to push into him those shaking breaths becomes gasps, quick and hurried. Pain fits with pleasure in ways V has always been so deeply in love with, all made better by the fact he can whimper those encouraging pleads of “Daddy” with no fear of bringing the whole thing to a sudden stop. His legs shake almost as much as his hands, gasps cut off by his own groans and the sound in his ears overridden by the sound of Goro himself trying his damndest and failing to withhold sound. Those strong hands settle first on his hips, and when he’s suitably filled with Takemura’s cock they come once more to grab harsh at his wrists, holding tight and fast and keeping V pinned beneath him. And all is still. Much like the calm period of adjustment Goro gifted him before roughly fucking his face, V is given time to accustom himself to the feeling of being wonderfully, fufillingly full of cock, before Goro begins to fuck him. Groans growl into his ear and where V might usually bite hard on his lip to prevent the debauched sounds he longs to make from spilling out, he simply lets it happen, for once. Lets himself enjoy it thoroughly, his certain-to-be-angry neighbors be damned. “Fuck-- Fuck, Fuck, Daddy-” he gasps out, straining against the grip Takemura has on his wrists. He does his best to meet those bruising thrusts, feeling his mind fuzz with pleasure. Goro is always the best cock he’s had, but the release of his restraint, the ability to simply let himself scream as he wants. It does something to V.
“Please-- Please- Fuck me-” There’s a little bird, a little voice in the back of his head chide him. Because ‘fuck’ isn’t entirely the right word, is it? He’s laying there like a toy, helplessly pinned by Takemura’s body, his cock buried deep in his ass, those hands grasping his wrists. Used. Used is more accurate. And fuck, does he love to be used like this. Loves the feeling it gives him, to be held down, to be absolutely helpless against it. The only thing that could make it better would be having three other guys in line waiting for their turn, but V’s not about to get picky. “Love-- Love your cock, daddy--” he gasps out, words a strain and mindless moans admittedly so much easier. He feels one of those hands leave his wrist, here’s Goro hiss to him “Do not touch yourself”, and feels that calloused hand move instead to grip his throat. Not tight enough to cut off his air, but the presence alone is enough to turn what’s left of V’s mind into what may as well be horny mush. “Oh god,” V whines, struggling with the effort of keeping his hand in place, of not reaching down to touch his own cock. He must be good. He will be good.
As though noticing the effort it takes V to simply remain still and allow himself to be fucked so thoroughly, Goro gives him a gift in the form of words. “Good boy,” he murmurs, and it goes straight to V’s aching cock. The hand on his throat leaves its place there and V is left feeling terribly lost without it, the moment having been far too short. And then it begins to travel down, and you know what, maybe it’s not so bad after all. Goro drags it down V’s back, sliding to gently brush against his hips, and brings it home to grasp at his leaking cock. The feeling of it there is damn near enough to make V collapse fully against the bed, his legs shaking so hard it may as well be a damn workout at this point. “Fuck, fuck, fuck-” and when Goro strokes it’s in languid smooth action, nothing like the rough fucking currently going on. But it’s enough. Hell, it’s more than enough, far more than enough. “Fuckin’-- Fuck, Goro- Daddy, gonna cum-” he’s been so hard for so long, and so pent up far before that. Caught somewhere between squirming back against the thrusts into his ass and forward into those drool-worthy strokes of his cock. “Please-” he chokes, gasps, groans, “Lemme-- Tell me I can--” if he could open his eyes for a moment he’d give Goro the most pleading look he can manage, but alas he’s stuck there with his eyes screwed shut and hoping his body language will do the work of pleading for him, “Gimme permission, daddy, please, I-- Wanna know you want me to-”
“Cum.”
If it were a shitty porno, V would say he may have damn well blacked out from how good it feels. His voice cracks as he moans, pulling at the blankets and straining against Takemura as he continues to fuck him through it-- And stroke. And shit, now he very well may black out, the feeling of overstimulation making his moans rise to a frantic yell as he writhes, the mission of keeping his hands in place forgone as he scrabbles at the blankets, uncertain of what to do with himself. Confused thrusts into Goro’s hand met with a jolt that makes him scream, meeting the thrusts of Goro’s hips sending his mind into a frenzy. Ah shit. Ah fuck. “Fuck, fuck-- wait-- daddy--” his train of thought is cut off by his own frustrated moan-- and then by the sudden still of Takemura’s hips, the sudden hiss as he breaths in quick and cums inside of him. Shaking, panting, and still caught between Goro’s cock and hand. V resigns himself to going limp and simply whining, waiting for Goro to move his hand and relieve him of the over stimulation. When he does, though, V is left... disappointed, almost. He permits himself to collapse, then, legs no longer feeling up to the task of keeping his hips raised, and Takemura follows, laying atop him, the two of them equally sweaty messes, each trying to catch their breath. They lay in stilled silence for a long moment, waiting for the adrenaline to die.
“V?” Takemura mutters, removing himself from atop him and settling at the edge of the bed. V should move. But he doesn’t. Prefers instead to just lay there, face still buried against the blankets, limp and relaxed and trying his best to get a grip on his thoroughly scrambled mind. He almost doesn’t notice as Takemura moves closer again, repeating his name in concerned tone-- Almost.
“’M fine,” V mumbles into the blanket, staying still for a beat longer before mustering the energy to turn his head and look at Takemura. “’m... Tired,” ‘tired’ may be an underestimation. He isn’t sure if he could even stand for a shower right now-- Granted that’s less the exhaustion and more the fact his legs are still shaking a bit. “But otherwise, feelin’... good. Yeah-- Good.” V closes his eyes, focuses his breaths a bit, and grabs at the last few loose pebbles of his thoughts. “What about you?”
“I am good, so long as you are alright,” Takemura responds, emphasizes with a soft pat to the side of V’s head. “Come. We must both shower.”
“C’mon, Goro, my legs are hurtin--”
“No excuse. I will help you.”
As much as V would like to complain-- He doesn’t. Allows himself to be helped up by Goro, leans heavily against him as hes led to the shower. It’s not meant for two, no way in hell, but they manage, only slightly cramped. V with his back pressed to Goro’s chest as the older of the two presses gentle little kisses to his neck. He’s more or less carried back out once Takemura considers them both sufficiently cleaned, settled upon the couch while Takemura strips the bed of it’s now filthy blankets and hastily replaces it with a few in the closet. V would offer to help, but... well. Takemura’s not the one who took a dick up the ass, is he? It’s barely a moment after the new blankets are on when V risks standing, wobbling on weak legs over to the bed and collapsing against it the way he usually does, which is to say, not with his head on the pillows. He stays like that, staring at the wall and running thoughts through his mind until Goro returns. V acquiesces to the gentle nudges of the bodyguard, moving to lay there properly, and then moving again once Goro has situated himself to rest his head against his chest, feeling his breaths and hearing his heart beat. Gentle fingers card through the knots of V’s hair, soft and luring him off to sleep as Takemura mutters a final “good boy, V.”