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Ren wasn’t ashamed of what he wanted; he was merely careful and patient, the traits that made him an excellent law student, suppressing his selfish desires from the world. But when it came to Yusuke, his desires never stayed quiet for very long.
Still, he bit his tongue more often than not. The last thing he wanted was to let Yusuke see how hunger could look on him; Yusuke’s trust was too precious to gamble with over something so selfish and perverted. It wasn’t that he meant to be perverted — or not entirely, at least. The desire came naturally with Yusuke, with the way he spoke about anything art and devotion as if all of it were sacred. Ren only ever wanted to match that intensity, explore it further, even.
He told himself he could keep it quiet — the urge, the thought, the idea — but Yusuke always noticed things.
--
“You’re staring again,” Yusuke murmured without looking up from his sketchbook, his voice carrying that usual, airy calm, but Ren caught the faintest hint of amusement beneath it. “I thought I was imagining it, but you seem to keep proving me wrong. If there’s something you wish to say, I’d prefer you do it before the silence becomes distracting.”
It made Ren’s pulse skip.
For what felt like an eternity, the silence lingered in the small apartment they shared, a cozy space cluttered with art materials and law textbooks on shelves and the coffee table, suitable for the two college students. Sunday night has crept in as the two sit in comfortable silence on the sofa, Yusuke sketching as per usual, and Ren supposedly mindlessly scrolling on his phone.
Ren blinked, caught mid-thought, “Was I that obvious?” He nervously chuckled.
Yusuke finally raised his gaze to meet his eyes with a steady, knowing look, “You tend to be when you’re trying not to be.”
The words Ren had rehearsed in his head before stuck to his throat: explanations, soft ways to admit he kind of ideas that made his pulse quicken—but under Yusuke’s gaze, all pretense dissolved.
“It’s… not exactly something normal to bring up,” Ren began carefully, putting his phone down while fidgeting with it. “I just had an…idea. Something I thought you might find… interesting.”
Despite the discovery of a hidden desire, Ren was hesitant to share; he always adores Yusuke’s sharp senses–the meticulous attention he gives to those he loves, from paintings to sculptures, to Ren himself. He matches it himself. Yusuke’s observations carried worry and care. Additionally, it's finally pushing Ren to discuss his… wants… with his beloved.
Yusuke raised his eyebrow and tilted his head, a gesture not helping the flustered Ren’s position right now. “Then tell me. You know I appreciate ideas, and you know you can always tell me anything that's on your mind.”
That was the problem. Yusuke did appreciate them, too much, sometimes.
Ren stood up with lightning speed to reach across the room for his bag, set it on the floor, and then set a small, nondescript box on the table between them.
The box looked small enough to be harmless. It wasn’t. Not to Ren.
He checked to see Yusuke’s expression, who looked like a curious fox, head tilting again. Then, finally, pulling out the contents of the box: a chastity cage, small and silver in color. It wasn’t heavy, but the moment he revealed it entered Yusuke’s gaze, the air seemed to weigh a little more.
Yusuke slowly blinked, once, twice, studying the cage for a moment that again felt too long. Then, his eyes darted from the cage to Ren’s face, gauging, reading, studying. “This isn’t a …traditional ring, I presume,” he murmured.
“No,” Ren said, too quickly. “Not that. It’s—” he hesitated, “It’s a little strange.”
“You forget who you’re speaking to,” Yusuke replied, a light escaping through his lips, tone playful, though his gaze was sharp as ever. He leaned back slightly, eyes flicking once more to the object on the table. “I’ve brought strange things into this home in the name of art, have I not?”
Ren huffed out a quiet laugh, half in relief, half in disbelief. “This isn’t quite the same as a sculpture concept, Yusuke,” realizing Yusuke might not actually know the purposes of the foreign object before him.
“No,” Yusuke agreed, unknowingly of the sexual implications, thoughtfully continuing, “but its form down speaks of restraint and discipline. Control–how much we choose to give, and how much we choose to hold back–is a concept quite prevalent in a lot of master’s works.” He tilted his head, eyes glinting. “Would this not be a… practical study of that philosophy?”
It was Ren’s turn to slowly blink, as he was momentarily at a loss, because of course, trust Yusuke to turn something so debauched and perverted into a lecture on artistic theory. “You’re not disturbed?” he asked carefully.
“Disturbed?” Yusuke’s lips curved, just slightly. “I’d call it compelling.”
The word compelling made Ren exhale a shaky laugh. “You might want to hear the rest before you start calling it that,” he said, shakily rubbing at the back of his neck.
Yusuke’s eyes narrowed slightly in curiosity. “There’s more?”
“There’s… context,” Ren admitted. He paused, searching for the words he’d rehearsed before that wouldn’t sound as ridiculous if he said it aloud, “It isn’t really a study tool, at least not in the way you’re thinking.”
“Oh?” Yusuke leaned forward a little, shuffling to close the distance between the two on the soda, still composed, the way he always was before a critique. “Then what is it, precisely?” He was genuinely curious.
Ren swallowed. “It’s meant to keep someone from… doing certain things. Or from being able to… react. Physically. Down there…,” now pointing shamelessly at Yusuke’s crotch; there was no going back after the words that escaped his mouth. On top of that, he definitely was going to try and take full advantage of Moragana’s absence from staying at Futaba’s, who knows when another chance like this will arrive, right?
A faint red crawled onto Yusuke’s cheeks and ears, now trying to avoid Ren’s gaze. “Ah,” he said softly, blinking twice as the meaning settled. “So that is what you meant by strange.”
Ren nearly laughed again from nerves, yet relieved that Yusuke’s expression had not shown one of horror, disgust, or even. “Yeah. I didn’t want you to think I was trying to be weird about it. It’s… more of a trust thing. A control thing. “ He reached out to hold Yusuke’s hands in his body, still slightly tense, “Between us.”
Yusuke’s voice became quieter. “Hm… You wish to explore restraint in the literal sense?”
“Only if you’re comfortable,” Ren said quickly. “If you’re not, I’ll put it away, forget I ever—”
“No!” Yusuke quickly shook his head, face still flushed. “No, I understand. It’s… intimate. Vulnerable. Terrifying, but in a way that art often is.” He looked up at Ren then, eyes bright with a mixture of embarrassment and something more thoughtful. “I’d like… to try it too. With you.”
“I’d never suggest it otherwise,” Ren said.
Again, Ren hesitated, thumbs brushing over Yusuke’s knuckles. “There’s one thing I should probably be clear about,” he said, his voice soft, but underlined with a teasing tone.
Of course, Yusuke’s curiosity has yet to fade, “Oh?” he says as his head tilts again.
“When I said it was about trust,” Ren continued as his view sharpened on Yusuke, “I meant… it would be you wearing it–I really, really, want to see you wear it.”
“Ah.” The color deepened on Yusuke’s face, the light pink blooming into a red that travelled down his neck and body, which was now shuffling in place, perhaps in nervous excitement. “I don’t mind being the one… restrained,” voice softened at the confession.
Ren was at a loss. He had expected hesitation, not the quiet way Yusuke’s low voice words seemed to echo loudly in the space. Nonetheless, Ren didn’t mind in the slightest; he was intrigued.
“I think… the concept appeals to me more than I anticipated,” continued Yusuke.
Ren’s breath caught in his throat. There was something in the way Yusuke said it: the usual careful diction mixed with underlying restrained composure that barely hid interest–that made his pulse quicken and air thicken.
Letting go of Ren’s grip, Yusuke looked back down at the cage on the sofa between them as though to study its craftsmanship, but his fingers hovered just above the metal. “To surrender control so completely…” he meant to murmur to himself. “There’s a kind of beauty in that, isn’t there?”
Ren couldn’t help but laugh, relief bleeding through the tension, exhaling a breath he didn’t know he was holding, “You’re making it sound poetic.”
“Is it not?” he replied. Finally, their eyes met again. “You said this was about trust, yes?” Yusuke’s voice was quiet, but it trembled with certainty. “Then I trust you.”
The silence that followed wasn’t heavy or tense. This time, the air seemed to be heated as Ren’s hand steadily found Yusuke’s again.
“Then,” he said, now embracing his ‘perverted desires’ with a teasing tone, “I’ll walk you through it. I know we’ll have a great time, Yusuke.”
Yusuke’s eyes widened slightly, his lips parting to release a quiet exhale, one almost like a laugh. “You make it sound like an art lesson.”
“Maybe it is,” Ren said with a smile that held a knowing edge. “You always said art was about expression.”
“And restraint,” added Yusuke, gazing once more at the silver object, “which, I suppose, I’m about to learn quite…intimately.” The blush still lingered on Yusuke’s face; Ren swore it kept deepening as he spoke.
It seemed like the mood between them had shifted; now it was anything but innocent.
“Shall we get on with it?” Ren slyly suggests mischief, one that's now written all over his tone and face.
--
Day 1.
Last night, the two agreed on a week, starting today. Seven days of restraint for Yusuke, day and night, while Ren held complete control of unlocking it. A study, as Yusuke had called it, of the dynamics between control and surrender.
That morning, it felt quieter than usual between the lovebirds, though nothing had really changed–except everything had.
Yusuke again sat on the sofa, sketchbook in hand, as sunlight spilled over from the nearby window to cast a halo-like glow on his form, framing it like an angel. Yet, the cool metal beneath his clothes reminded him of the mood that carried from the night before, and his presence–Ren’s presence–and the thought alone showered a faint heat crawling under his skin. But that wasn’t anything particularly strange.
Aside from that, Ren’s gaze from behind the kitchen counter did linger a little longer that morning, filled with his usual softness and affection, but sharp enough that Yusuke could feel it even when he wasn’t looking. Every time their eyes met, Yusuke saw that same quiet focus that once belonged to the now ex-leader of Phantom Thieves. It was precise, deliberate. Again, a normal occurrence, sometimes, almost.
When Ren finally spoke, his voice was low, fond. “How does it feel?”
Yusuke’s hand that held a pencil paused; he replied, “Like an unfinished painting.” He was intrigued by the artistic inspiration this experience would give him, fascinated to see where this would take him, how it would expand his horizons.
Ren hummed, soft but heavy with unspoken acknowledgement for Yusuke's situation, stepping closer until his hand brushed Yusuke’s shoulder. The touch was fleeting, but it was enough to make Yusuke’s body tense up–perhaps in anticipation–Yusuke didn’t yet know why.
“Good,” Ren murmured. “Then keep it that way.”
His words, in fact, did not ease Yusuke’s body.
--
Day 2. Night, actually, to be specific.
Ren’s proposal still lingered in Yusuke’s mind. However, this time, it stemmed from confusion–it was fascination–fascination on how Ren made something so effortless sound so debauched, but also devotional, all jumbled into nervous asks.
Yusuke let out a quiet breath, his composure still completely intact, tone light and teasing, even, “You speak as if this is a challenge.”
Ren’s gaze softened, though the corner of his lips curved with quiet mischief. “Isn’t it?”
They lay on the bed pressed together, legs loosely intertwined and thumbs twiddling against each other. Ren is spooning Yusuke from the back, each breath he takes brushing against the back of Yusuke’s neck, which isn’t exactly an odd sight after they’ve finished up for the night, ready to drift into sleep eventually. The air between them was cool, but the warmth between them was steady, familiar, almost. Almost.
Yusuke tilted his head backwards further into Ren, “I’ve endured greater adversities for art’s sake,” he proudly stated, voice dripping with pride, “A week of restraint hardly seems formidable.”
Ren hummed low, like he knew something Yusuke didn’t. “We’ll see,” he said, brushing a stray strand of blue-black hair from Yusuke’s face. His touch was light, deliberate again, and it lingered… again. “Goodnight, Yusuke.” He said before pressing a soft, playful kiss on the back of Yusuke’s neck just below his ear, the gesture was anything but innocent, but Yusuke didn’t have to know that.
“Mmm… Goodnight, Ren,” Yusuke replied, huffing slightly at his words that were filled with confidence; it seemed like the seed of pride within him was sprouting. But at the same time, its roots beneath the surface felt quivering, tremors that he didn’t seem to realize, threatening to soon take center stage.
--
By the fourth day, Yusuke had begun to realize that Ren’s quiet confidence on the third night wasn’t arrogance; rather, it was certainty.
He’d expected the days to pass uneventfully. He was, after all, a man of discipline with patience being his virtue for long, in and out of artistic contexts. But patience, he discovered, was far easier when the body wasn’t begging to betray it.
Yusuke’s awareness of his own body felt sharper, notably in the space between his thighs, of course. Every brush of fabric suddenly seemed to deliberately tease him.
The first few days had been simple enough. The cage didn’t seem to disturb the routine that soothed him, which comprised college classes, paintings, sketches, shared meals, and cuddles with Ren. He’d even laughed at what he thought was Ren’s arrogance and teasing, brushing it off with the same airy, calm composure as always. But by the third morning, things had started to change.
At first, it had only been a loss of focus when Ren leaned close. Then, as minutes pass, his hand would start to twitch mid-sketch, and he’d catch himself sighing without realizing it.
Now, on the fourth day, every little thing Ren did seemed ever more prominent. The brush of his rough and calloused fingers on his hand when Ren handed him a mug, to the low murmur of his voice when he read beside him, even to the sound of Ren breathing near his ear as they lay closely together in bed. Every single small act crawled beneath Yusuke’s skin, leaving faint bits of heat–ones that refused to fade.
And through it all, Yusuke felt an ache that never quite went away. Not pain, but rather a persistent reminder of what he wasn’t allowed, of what he’d given up for this week, of who he’d given it up to.
He told himself it was fine. That it was for the pursuit of art, a training of discipline, even, and of course, a show of devotion to his boyfriend. But his body, traitorous thing that it was, told a different story every time Ren so much as looked his way. That story, sensation, made itself too apparent to bear with, starting the morning: a constant wetness that began to drip between Yusuke’s thighs throughout the day. Not to mention, the soreness of his restrained cock as it desperately tried to erect itself when Ren pressed his crotch against his that night.
Yusuke’s libido is just as one would expect a young man's: quite easily… aroused, strikingly at the thought of Ren, so of course his intimate touches do wonders. Even so, the unusual cool metal resting on his sensitive skin has inadvertently heightened it.
At least, Ren has yet to notice.
At least, that's what Yusuke thought.
But he’d forgotten one thing–Ren noticed everything, just as Yusuke would if he wasn’t unknowingly distracted by the… predicament… he’s in.
It started with the way Ren spoke to him on the fifth morning. He couldn’t quite describe it, but every word seemed chosen, weighed, knowing, and aware. Every syllable that escaped his lips made Yusuke’s pulse skip a beat.
By midday, it was truly unbearable. Every brush of Ren’s hand as they passed in the kitchen sent chills down his spine and enhanced the dripping and twitching of his dick in its constraints. Every stolen and shared glance felt like a rush. Yusuke’s self-control was fraying fast, like acrylic paint drying in the sun.
He couldn’t focus on any of his classes, his artworks, sketches. Hell, he couldn’t even keep his eyes from darting around while walking along the afternoon streets, with each step leaving lasting tingling sensations from the fabric of his pants brushing against his skin, and notably the cool sensation of metal–no, it was who held the key, actually. Each thought, sensation kept coming back to the knowledge that Ren held the key, the control over Yusuke’s most vulnerable part.
Thankfully, by that time, Yusuke is left alone in their shared apartment, his mind seemingly now just as perverted as Ren’s. His face is now constantly tainted red. And although the absence of his partner, Yusuke, swiftly, shamefully slips entirely out of his garments and into the bathroom.
The cold water poured over him, quickly cooling down the burning heat he didn’t realize his body held. Still, his restricted cock continued to beg for attention.
Yusuke takes the shower head in his hands, which are slightly trembling. Was it from excitement, nervousness, or curiosity? He didn’t know. His thoughts flickered between the mix as he slowly brought the shower head down to spray his sore cock, fiddling with the metal cage, and trying to scratch the bits of visible skin, hoping to find some relief. And relieved he was.
Yusuke moans under the blissful sensation, “Mmhn!” Yet it wasn’t enough to extinguish the fire that lit the moment the cage restrained his cock. He desperately rocks his hips back and forth in the air, one hand beginning to fondle his balls, with the other still spraying cold water on the lustfully burning area.
Regardless, it was almost enough, but it wasn't enough, not quite. Sobbing whimpers constantly escaped Yusuke’s lips, muffled by the high-pressure flowing water. Not that it mattered since he was alone, not that it mattered if Ren was here too; he would gladly enjoy the view. Oh, the thought amplified the pleasure for Yusuke, uncontrollable sounds escaping more lewd, “Ah…Ah~! Ren…Please!”
He tried again to touch as much of his cock from outside its restraints, chasing any bit of stimulation he could get as it dripped like a faucet, like it was competing with the spraying shower head. Anything to chase that sweet release.
But he asks himself why he hadn’t thought of it before, why isn’t he playing with his hole, teasing his sweet spot to climax right there and then? Yusuke asks over and over in his head, though the answer was painfully clear in his head: he’s devoted his body, surrendering control completely–to Ren.
Nevertheless, it takes all of Yusuke's might to break away from his pathetic air humping and scratching at the cage for pleasure, the cutoff of pleasure unfortunately only enhancing the restlessness from before it, making him wince, “Ngh-!” Contrasting the short relief he felt, now, the jitters from days of restraint burned throughout his body; the heat beneath Yusuke’s skin was worse.
That night, just as Yusuke thought he could, he barely kept it together around Ren.
Before bed, Ren’s eyes caught his with a quiet, unreadable gaze. Yusuke tried to look away, but Ren only slyly smiled.
“You’ve been restless lately,” Ren said deviously, teasingly, knowingly.
Yusuke froze.
Ren’s tone wasn’t accusing, merely certain. Too certain to leave room for Yusuke to deny.
“I-” Yusuke began, but his words faltered.
Ren reached out to Yusuke, hand finding his cheek, thumb tracing the faint tremor there. “You don’t have to hide it,” he murmured, voice dropping low, intimate. “Don’t worry. I’ll let you feel really good, really soon, darling.”
Yusuke’s breath hitched, heart skipping possibly a few beats. His eyes fluttered closed, and for the first time since they began, he finally stopped denying that this wasn’t simply a test of discipline or a study of restraint for art. It was dominated by pleasure, intimacy, and Ren had always driven it from the start.
--
The sixth day blurred, and so did the seventh morning.
It's as if time wrapped around Ren’s voice, his touch, his presence. Yusuke couldn’t recall much beyond short snippets and flashes: the scratch of a pencil on paper, banter filled with light laughs in the kitchen, the sound of his own heartbeat echoing in the slow, silent weekend.
Every brush of Ren’s sleeve, every shared glance, every small thought that somehow related to Ren sent his pulse spiraling, body burning, dripping.
He tried to pass the time by painting, as usual, but could only make half-formed strokes and random smears of color, ones that didn’t contribute anything to his piece. The same can be said when he tried the sketchbook, his mind and hand unable to capture any forms, just mere lines across the page. His art had always been his refuge, but now it even betrayed him. Ren filled the room in his head, truly.
As Yusuke’s mind is occupied by the intense sensations his body is constantly overwhelmed by, he has failed to notice the ever-growing sharpness of Ren’s gaze. Throughout the days, every moment they shared their presence, Ren’s eyes would be peeled on Yusuke, eyeing him carefully, deliberately, gaze weighed with the desire they’re indulging in. Still and all, like a model law student, his actions on the surface stayed calm and casual, as if he did not know his beloved’s sanity was being held by a single, stretched, twisted, fraying thread.
So by dusk, Yusuke was quiet. He wasn’t serene, but subdued, as if one more breath, one more look, one more say, might be enough to undo him entirely. The smell of coffee in the apartment stood as a constant, strong reminder of Ren wherever in the space he went. But the reminder made his heart race, because the idea of release–one from and of Ren–already gave him oh so much relief. He just had to wait. He told himself it was almost over. A few more hours.
Ren didn’t push. He also waited. There was simply a constant, soft smile, a dangerous one that spoke for itself: he knows–he's waiting.
--
By the time night truly fell, the apartment was swallowed in quiet, one like Yusuke: not serene. The city outside seemed to blur into a separate world, one that was outside the one that mattered to Ren and Yusuke.
The air still smelled like coffee as usual, but now denser, like static before a storm. Their bedroom is dimly lit.
Ren sat on the edge of the bed, quiet and composed, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips as he waited. The two hadn’t exchanged many words throughout the night, and that silence was somehow louder than a thousand words.
When Yusuke finally emerged from the bathroom, a robe hung loosely on his form, exposing his collarbones. Slowly closing the bathroom door behind him, the soft creak was so prominent in the silence. He could feel his heartbeat in places it shouldn’t be. Every move–every breath–seemed to echo in the quiet.
“Come here.” Ren’s words sliced clean through. They were calm. Too calm.
Yusuke obeyed before another thought could cross his mind, shuffling through the room as though pulled by a string, placing himself shyly in front of Ren before the bed. He tried to look away, squeezing his thighs together, hands atop his stomach, afraid of unraveling too early, or too impatient for release.
Ren’s eyes trailed his movements, taking in every twitch and shallow breath. It softened as Yusuke approached, “You’ve done well,” he murmured, voice low, “All week. I’m so proud of you, Yusuke.”
The praise hit harder than expected; Yusuke’s knees nearly buckled.
Ren stood, slightly startling Yusuke, whose nerves are going haywire right now, eliminating the space between them with unhurried movements. His hand reached out, brushing along Yusuke’s jaw, thumb ghosting over his lower lip. Then, he drifted downward to the slim waist hidden under the robe, as well as a faint outline of metal that protruded.
Yusuke shivered at his touch.
Ren’s other hand reached into his pocket, pulling out something small, glinting from his pocket. Yusuke’s eyes widened at the view: the silver key held in front of his face, shining under the dim light, like it were mocking him.
After another moment of tense silence, Ren asked quietly, “Do you trust me?”
Yusuke nodded once, quickly, shallowly, helplessly.
Ren's expression turned fond, dangerous, and gentle all at once, “Good. Take it off for me?” as he meant the robe and gestured for Yusuke to lie down on the bed, and, akin to his previous reaction, Yusuke immediately obeyed, sloppily taking off what’s left of his complete vulnerability, to hurriedly be seated. His hands on his chest, eagerly looking down at Ren, who started to nestle between his thighs.
It earned a deep chuckle from Ren, “Well, eager are we? So, shall we get on with it?”
Ren pulls his head down and turns the key.
Click.
The sound of the lock releasing was small, barely audible, and yet it echoed through Yusuke’s entire body like a physical shock, combined with the loosening sensation upon his cock. It sent sparks up his spine, “Mhn!”
Finally, everything that had been held back for days: desire, restraint, control, all that had consumed them, is given the chance of release.
Without wasting any time, Yusuke's dick stood up immediately, continuing to spew out precum, spilling it onto the bed. Then, his hands instinctively reached down to rub one out, wanting to regain the pleasure he had lost over the days.
Ren lunged forward, taking Yusuke’s hands with his to pin them above his head, “Not yet,” voice commanding. A grin was plastered on his face–sly, devious, deliberate. “Not so fast, Yusuke,” he continued.
“R-Ren…Please…Please!” Yusuke was stunned. His breathing came ragged, broken. He trembled, half in relief, half in desperation. He thought that he could finally feel the sweet release that he's been denied for a week, “Ren~!” He continued to whine as his hips rocked the mattress up and down, so very desperate to cum. Yusuke’s face was beet red, tears starting to well up in his eyes.
Ren leaned in until their foreheads nearly touched. “You’ve been good for me,” he whispered, tone softening. “So patient. So trusting. Let me help you now.” Despite the ‘sweet’ message, Ren’s words were filled with teasing, just holding onto a little more control over the desperate, pathetic Yusuke below him.
As much as Yusuke really, really, desperately wanted to cum, he couldn’t kick Ren away to freely fap; he still couldn’t disobey Ren’s control. Ren’s words had undid him more than any touch could. Yusuke shuddered, the last of his composure slipping away, a sound escaping him that was closer to a sob than a moan.
Ren continued pinning Yusuke’s hands with one hand, and started to use his now free hand to take care of Yusuke’s painfully red, hot, leaking erection. To Ren’s pleasure, as soon as Yusuke realized what he planned, more whines and tears escaped the artist, “Ngh~! Ren! You’re going t-”
“Ahn`~! Ren~! Ren!” His question was cut off by a surge of pleasure, Ren beginning to pump Yusuke’s dick, rubbing up and down along the whole shaft, quickly, “So…Sho good~!!” Now, Yusuke’s jaw was slack, tongue lolling out with drool. Tears were now fully dripping down his cheeks, his hips humping never stopped, though.
“Mhm…You’re so good for me, Yusuke…” Ren murmured again, picking up the speed of his movements, “For all of it. For trusting me this far.” He leans forward, downward, scattering light kisses around Yusuke’s chest.
Progressively slowing down the pace of his hand job, he eventually stopped before anyone finished, causing multiple whines and cries from Yusuke, “Mhn~... Ren…” His head was slack, looking up at the ceiling
While still holding onto Yusuke’s hands, Ren pulls down the hem of his own pants and underwear, releasing his red, hard erection from its restraints. How could he not be, right? “Yusuke… I’m gonna put it in, ok?”
Yusuke’s eyes widened as his head strayed downwards to see Ren’s large, raging erection that was about to enter him, fill him up. He was already imagining how good it’ll feel, “Mngh! Yes~!”
Instantly, Ren sharply shoved his whole length into Yusuke’s hole in one swift movement, “Ngh-!” he heavily grunted.
His length blissfully fills Yusuke up, mushing his sweet spots into mush. His velvety walls hug Ren, squeezing him, practically asking to be filled even more. No lube was needed from the gushing fluids from Yusuke’s cock, like a broken faucet, being sufficient lubricant.
“Mngh~!!” Yusuke’s head flipped back again, the breath taken out of his lungs. The stimulation from the past week, Ren’s dick fills him, his now neglected member, it was all too much. He continues to chant Ren’s name over, over, over, and over again, moaning between them “Re-Ahn ~!Ren, Ren~!”
“Im gonna cum, Yusuke…Ngh-! Let's cum together, yeah?” Ren suggested between pants, his pace quickening, now also, oh so desperate for release– especially one with Yusuke.
“Yes~!” Yusuke cried out, hips sloppily moving out of rhythm with Ren’s “Gonna…gonna- cumming~!”
The moment ceased like a crashing wave. Heavy, sharp moans and whimpers engulfed the room as the two came in sync; Ren painting Yusuke’s insides white, and Yusuke spilling onto his own abdomen, cum from both of them messily, intensely spewing across the sheets. They blurred together until neither of them could tell where one ended and the other began.
For a while, that was all there was: their uneven breaths, tremors from release, and the rhythm that slowed between them until everything else fell away.
Ren relaxed above him, gaze soft, while both bodies limp. He brushed a thumb along Yusuke’s jaw, down to his lips, before pressing a kiss to his temple. “You did so well,” he whispered.
And though Yusuke couldn’t quite speak yet, the look in his eyes said everything: gratitude, exhaustion, devotion.
Ren smiled, small and genuine, and drew him closer as they drifted to sleep, still in each other’s arms like always.