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Hajime is more than a little offended by Nagito’s sudden lack of interest in him- in fact, he’s straight up hurt. He knows that whatever is happening is some sort of episode, but deep down, he worries that maybe being reserve course really is a deal-breaker. So much of Nagito’s strange, fucked up philosophy hinges on the ultimates being larger than life, perfect beings, so maybe he really isn’t interested in him anymore.
More than just the lack of emotional connection, there’s the physical aspect as well. Hajime’s gotten quite used to their usual routine, which usually involved Nagito getting him off multiple times a day…especially on the days when Hajime takes his t-shot and becomes utterly insatiable. Which is today. And he’s already feeling the effects of it, frustratingly enough. He digs through his things, looking for the wand vibrator Nagito had brought him from the store, over a month prior now.
Hajime had originally been so fearful of Nagito finding out he was trans, but when, in a stroke of bad luck (well, good luck for Nagito) Hajime’s swim trunks had been washed away, Hajime quickly found out that it didn’t matter to Nagito. And he found out in the best possible way- Nagito had eaten him out in the seclusion of a grove of palm trees, and then fucked him silly- and Hajime had been quite smitten with him, even after the debacle with Nagito revealing the true colors of his rather unstable nature. But now Nagito’s too good for him, apparently. It’s infuriating, especially when he’s aching so desperately for Nagito to just stop being so petty and fuck him, at the very least.
He lays back on his bed as he finds the toy, feeling even more hot and bothered now that he’s started reminiscing on when Nagito had taken his virginity. He’s angry with the other man right now, but god, that doesn’t stop the way his swollen t-dick throbs when he remembers how Nagito’s lips had latched onto it and sucked until Hajime saw stars. He pulls his boxers down, rubbing the blunt head of the toy up and down over his dripping cunt, teasing it a bit.
His eyes slip shut, feeling his heartbeat between his legs as he lets himself imagine that Nagito’s here now. That he’s the one holding the toy, using it on him the way he had when he’d first gone to the store and walked out with every sex toy in there. When he’d been so obsessed with spoiling Hajime- Hajime wishes he hadn’t taken for granted Nagito’s almost overwhelming intensity with which he wanted to please him. He’d give anything for that kind of treatment now. He lets out a low groan as he finally switches the toy on, allowing it to buzz pleasantly against his throbbing clit.
He’s a sight to behold like this, although he doesn’t know it- legs spread to reveal a swollen, dripping cunt, his t-dick at full attention now, jutting out of his folds, pulsing needily as Hajime desperately rubs the vibrator up against it. He lets out another desperate noise as he turns it up a setting. Fuck, he gets so horny after his shots- he grinds up against it, shamelessly fantasizing about Nagito’s mouth around his dick, his fingers inside him, curling up against his sweet spot.
He’s tantalizingly close to the edge when he hears the click of the door unlock, and can’t even pull the toy away from himself before Nagito’s barging in. Hajime suddenly regrets giving him access. Back before Nagito started hating him, before the escape room, when they had been so close, they’d granted Monokuma permission to give each other access to their own cottages. Since this made the likelihood of them murdering the other significantly higher, Monokuma accepted. At the time, Hajime never thought Nagito would want to hurt him…now he’s less sure.
Hajime’s not afraid in the moment, though. He’s pissed. Nagito’s been avoiding him left and right, and now he miraculously appears to interrupt what was about to be a very satisfying orgasm. And, although Nagito’s seen him like this what feels like hundreds of times at this point, Hajime still goes bright red. It’s embarrassing to be caught masturbating.
“What the fuck do you want?” He snaps, trying to sound less embarrassed than he is. It doesn’t work.
“Oh, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Nagito responds, a shit-eating grin on his face.
“Bullshit,” Hajime huffs, attempting to get decent. After his t-shot, Hajime’s boost of libido is like clockwork. Nagito knew full well that it’d be hitting now, and no doubt chose to barge in specifically hoping to catch Hajime in the act.
Nagito merely gives a dry chuckle, as if providing Hajime a reason or apology for his intrusion is beneath him, before lunging for the toy in Hajime’s hand so quickly that for a moment Hajime thinks he really is attacking him. There’s a distant, far away look in Nagito’s eyes- the same look he’d had during their very first class trial, when Hajime had first seen him lose his mind- as he examines the toy in his hand.
“You know, I’m the one who got this for you…doesn’t seem fair you should use it without me,” Nagito begins, smirking, and Hajime starts to protest that he’s the one who stopped wanting to use it on Hajime, not the other way around, when Nagito talks over him. “The things in the store are for ultimates, you know. Not reserve course students who weaseled their way into the class trip,” Nagito sneers, equal parts teasing as he is derisive.
“I don’t really think that matters-“ Hajime starts, quickly interrupted as Nagito suddenly shoves the vibrator between his legs, pinning his thigh down against the mattress with a strength that surprises him. “Ungh- what are you doing-“ he manages, another breathy moan leaving him as Nagito turns it to the highest setting. Jesus Christ, what is wrong with Nagito? Hajime’s lightheaded with this back and forth behavior. But the toy buzzing relentlessly against the sensitive nub between his legs makes it impossible to protest, to think about anything else. Fuck, it makes him so angry, that Nagito thinks he can treat him like this, then just barge back in here and- he’s distracted again, as suddenly the contact is gone.
Hajime’s panting, flustered and quite disgruntled. Nagito breaks in, insults him, starts playing with him, and then stops. “What the fuck is your problem?” He snaps, although it comes out as much more of a whine than he’d anticipated.
Nagito merely grins, his gaze smug, but heady, and Hajime hates the way he involuntarily shutters when Nagito’s thumb drags over his dripping slit, then circles over his needy dick. “You’re even dumber than I thought, Hajime, if you seriously think I’m gonna let you finish. All this time I’ve wasted getting you off, thinking I was so honored to be in your presence…turns out you aren’t even worth the dirt I walk on. Which is funny, considering I’m worth less than garbage, isn’t it?” Nagito lets out a humorless laugh, and Hajime moves to sit up.
“I think you should leave-“ Hajime starts, and Nagito, quick as a flash, pins him down on the bed.
“Heh. Listen, Hajime, you may be a worthless reserve course, but I don’t wanna have to hurt you, okay? So I think you should stay riiiight here,” he grins, as though he hadn’t just threatened him. “Besides, I don’t think you really want me to leave…” he drags two fingers over Hajime’s dripping slit, and as though to prove it, easily slides them in, sighing at the squelching noise it makes. Hajime’s body is more than accepting of his fingers, and his plea for Nagito to stop is cut off by a low moan as Nagito’s fingers curl up into his g-spot. “See? You owe this to me, you know, after all I did for you…”
Hajime can’t protest- not just because he’s been threatened, but because he can’t think. He’s so needy, he’s been brought to the brink multiple times now, his libido so frustratingly high after his shot, and his body is riding over his mind at this point. Were he thinking clearly, he’d never give in to begging- not when Nagito’s like this, forcing himself onto him, degrading him. But he can’t think clearly when Nagito slams the blunt head of the wand back against his clit, turning it on, waves of unending pleasure blooming within him.
Nagito, who has by now memorized every subtle (and not so subtle) sign that Hajime’s getting close, waits until Hajime’s hips are stuttering and his toes are curling before pulling the toy away, as well as letting his fingers slip out with a satisfyingly slick sound. And Hajime practically sobs. His cunt throbs at this point, his t-dick pulsing uselessly, his thighs squeezing together as he whines and tries to give himself some friction.
“Nagito- fuck, please-“ Hajime pants, abandoning his pride, reaching out his arm to grab Nagito’s wrist, desperately trying to pull him back in. He lets out a long whine as Nagito resists. This isn’t fair. Just days ago Nagito was enthusiastically giving him orgasm after orgasm (and Hajime was more than eager to return the favor). They had something so good, why is Nagito doing this to him now? “Just- oh my god- fuck me, or- anything,” Hajime’s head falls back, exposing the column of his throat, his eyes squeezing shut to hide from the shame of what he’s been reduced to. Just days prior, he’d feel perfectly safe and comfortable being this vulnerable for Nagito, but now it’s humiliating.
Those words make Nagito grin suspiciously, as though Hajime’s said what he’s been waiting to hear. He chuckles, unbuttoning his pants, shamelessly tugging them down, as well as the boxers underneath, erect cock springing free. Nagito’s always been shameless, but there’s a smug, arrogant look on his face that he never used to have when they did this. Hajime hates the way it goes straight between his legs.
Nagito leans over him, grabbing Hajime’s inner thigh a bit too hard, pinning it open as he slides his dick over Hajime’s swollen cunt. Normally when they did this, it’d be full of sweet kisses, Nagito’s tongue down his throat, murmuring sweet affections between kisses. None of that is present now, but it’s hard to miss it too much when Nagito’s busy teasing the head of his cock over Hajime’s sensitive clit. Hajime shudders, waiting for the much needed pressure of Nagito sliding into him.
“Ow- what the fuck-“ Hajime curses, not expecting Nagito’s hand to suddenly grab his hair, tugging him unexpectedly into a sitting position. And instead of the attention to his throbbing cunt that he so desperately needs, Nagito’s cock, already eagerly dribbling pre, is rubbing up against his lips. “I’m not gonna-“ he starts, then his hair is tugged again, and Nagito takes advantage of the yelp of pain he lets out, burying his cock down Hajime’s throat when his mouth is open.
Hajime’s thrown off balance, hands clutching desperately at the sheets as Nagito kneels in front of him, using his stronghold on Hajime’s hair to keep the brunette boy in place. Hajime’s eyes fill with tears, coughing and choking- he hadn’t gotten a proper breath in, nor been prepared. He’s taken Nagito like this, but it was always gradually, of his own volition, never all at once like this, and he scrambles uselessly to try and pull back.
Instead, Nagito grinds his hips pointedly against him, making him sputter, before pulling back and driving balls deep into him again. He starts a rough, fast pace, keeping the same iron grip on Hajime’s hair. His head tips back as he lets out a long, exaggerated moan. Except, judging by the way his cock twitches and leaks down the back of Hajime’s throat, it’s really not all that exaggerated. Nagito’s blissed out on fucking his throat. And, even as Hajime’s vision begins to go fuzzy from the lack of oxygen, it makes Hajime’s traitorous cunt leak slick onto the sheets.
Hajime keeps thinking that he can’t take another second of it, that he’s going to throw up, or pass out, but somehow, although he chokes and sputters and tears stream down his face, he stays conscious.
“Fuck- at least you’re good for this,” Nagito demeans him breathlessly, but the look on his face reveals a lot more endearment than his words do. He looks positively enamored, staring down at Hajime, and Hajimes hand instinctively goes between his legs, thumb and forefinger stroking himself, unable to resist, not when Nagito’s looking at him like that.
He expects Nagito to stop him, but Nagito merely moans and drives harder into his throat, eagerly watching as Hajime rubs and flicks his swollen t-dick. Hajime moans around him- he’s too oxygen deprived to even feel shame as he slams two fingers into his dripping cunt, eyes squeezing shut now as he shamelessly fingerfucks himself.
It feels too good to stop, and he’s desperate to cum. His thumb flicks over his dick, fingers curling into his g-spot. He’s even leaning forward, now, instead of pulling away, willingly swallowing Nagito deeper just so he can finger himself out a better angle, drive his fingers deeper inside himself. He shudders as he hits his sweet spot dead-on, tensing as he’s desperately chasing that building tension. He’s close, so close, he’s gonna-
Nagito grabs him by the wrist, pulling his hand away, letting out a lewd moan that makes Hajime’s denied cunt weep as he begins spilling down his throat. Hajime’s trembling, instinctively drinking it down, as though hoping that being a good slut for Nagito will make his former lover show mercy and touch him.
Nagito’s breathless, a hazy, lust-drunk look in his eyes as he pulls his cock free.
“Mm…look at you,” Nagito sighs appreciatively, softening cock in hand, rubbing the tip over Hajime’s swollen lips. Hajime’s tongue darts out, lapping up the final few drops of cum, breathless and dazed and clearly just trying to win Nagito’s favor. “You looked so cute, touching your pussy while I fucked you…I actually brought something for you, you know,” he grins, and Hajime perks up a bit. He’s expecting a toy, or maybe a demeaning outfit, or something that implies he’s going to get to cum somewhat soon. He can’t take the denial anymore.
He hadn’t noticed Nagito carrying anything when he came in, but then again he’d been pretty distracted by the fact Nagito had barged in on him touching himself.
As Nagito pulls out a chastity belt, any excitement on Hajime’s face is quickly replaced by indignant anger.
“Ha ha, very funny, asshole,” Hajime rolls his eyes, quickly pulling away, a flash of alarm in his eyes as Nagito’s hold on his wrist stays steadfast. “I’m not wearing that,” he insists. His voice is somewhat scratchy after his throat was so thoroughly used. “Seriously, Nagito-“ he pulls back harder, the alarm in his voice growing, his legs protectively closing together.
“It’s cute that you still think you have a choice in anything I do to you, Hajime,” Nagito remarks. It’s true that Hajime has protested to every single thing Nagito has done up til now, but this feels like a step too far. He realizes too late that the time to get up and flee was moments ago, and now Nagito’s hand is wrapping around his already abused throat, keeping him in a chokehold as he presses him down against the bed.
Each time Hajime kicks, or squirms, or tries to struggle, Nagito squeezes tighter. Hajime tries to call his bluff by continuing…Nagito’s not going to kill him to get a chastity belt on him, surely? But he’s not so sure as Nagito just squeezes harder with every struggle, and finally, Hajime doesn’t have enough oxygen to even try anymore. He’s half conscious as he feels cold, oppressive metal brush against his nethers and tight, unforgiving leather straps fixed around his waist.
As he’s released, he sputters for breath, immediately trying to pull the belt off. It’s fruitless- it’s latched on tight, and although the leather looks easy to cut through, there’s a metal rod going through it, seemingly to prevent exactly that.
“What the fuck? When are you going to take this off?” Hajime sputters out between coughs, and Nagito gives a cold laugh.
“Take it off?” He tilts his head, as though Hajime’s asked a nonsensical question, and Hajime’s filled with barely restrained anger and a sudden, ravenous desperation upon realizing that Nagito doesn’t play on letting him cum. And not just during sex, either- ever, since this belt prevents him from touching himself, too.
“Nagito, you cannot be serious- what did I do to you? Huh? What the fuck did I ever do to you to make you do this to me? All I ever did was like you, and forgive you even after what you did, and I even-“ He’d even begged for Nagito to fuck him, despite all the cruel things he’d said before. Hajime is flushed with anger, embarrassment, and humiliatingly enough, arousal. “I won’t wear it,” he snips, and Nagito grins.
“Well, you are. And don’t even bother sneaking into my cottage to look for the key. I threw it in the ocean,” Nagito tells him with glee. Hajime’s stomach sinks, his mouth dry. Nagito clearly revels in the look on his face. “Yeah- I figured if I ever want it back, it’ll just wash up on shore and I’ll find it, y’know? Trust my luck,” he grins, and there’s that crazed, far away look in his eyes again.
“You… threw it…” Hajime’s still processing that. So he’s going to be prevented from even the tiniest bit of friction or relief for the rest of his time on this cursed island? That could be months, or- he remembers how Monokuma had threatened that if there isn’t a winner, they’ll spend the rest of their lives on this island. He’s been trying not to think like that, to get into a negative spiral about how they’ll never escape, but it’s hard not to think about the possibility when he considers that he might be forced to go the rest of his life without cumming. “You asshole- you can’t- where are you going?” He stands to try and stop Nagito as the other man dresses and heads toward the door.
Nagito merely gives him a smile, face full of a forced cheeriness. “See you later, Hajime,” he chuckles, letting the door slam behind him as he leaves Hajime alone and unsatisfied in his cottage.
The next few days are torture for Hajime. Every time he sees Nagito, the other boy acts as though he doesn’t see him. At the most he’ll give Hajime a taunting smile before turning to head the other direction. And back at his cottage Hajime has no luck, either. During desperate, almost crazed attempts to give himself what he needs, he’s pressed the head of the massage wand up against the cage, but the metal bars don’t press up against his clit hard enough to give him any sort of stimulation.
A few agonizing days later, Hajime is invited to go swimming by their other classmates. He feels like he might as well- he has nothing else to do, other than agonize over what a hopeless situation they’re in, as well as his own misery. As he’s getting into the pool, however, a sudden gush of water from one of the pool jets sprays right over his crotch, a shudder of pleasure going through him at the much needed friction. He realizes that water can get through the slats of the belt, and suddenly nothing else seems more important than getting more of that feeling he’s been denied for so long.
Normally, he would never be the type to even think about masturbating in a public restroom, let alone a public pool surrounded by people, but he’s also never been teased and then denied for this long. He knows he can’t go straight for the jet, however, and with as much willpower as he has in him, he passes by it, swimming to the side of the pool instead.
Gradually, throughout the course of the afternoon, he moves steadily closer to his target, and when Akane and Sonia are distracted by a splash-war Akane started, he shamefully sidles over to the water jet. He tries to be subtle, leaning over the side of his pool on his arms and resting his head in them, as though simply lounging, when in reality, he’s positioning himself right over that sweet, merciful spout.
The second he shifts into place, the torrent of water gushes forcefully against his crotch, providing just the right amount of pressure so that even through his swim trunks his neglected t-dick is blissfully massaged. His breath catches in his throat, eyes slipping shut as though simply napping by the poolside, trying to keep his breathing steady and even. After days of neglect, it doesn’t take much to get him worked up, the swollen nub now standing at attention, throbbing beneath the cage. Hajime begins to tense, feeling that hot, swirling pressure between his legs- yes- fuck yes, he needs it so badly, come on…he’s right on the edge of release when a loud, smug voice breaks him out of it.
“Drifting off in the pool, Hajime?” Nagito’s standing over him, a smug grin on his face, although he disguises it as playful teasing. Hajime startles out of the moment, standing up straight now, aching and feeling just about near tears as the beginnings of his orgasm fade away. He’s almost trembling with need- if it weren’t for the others in the pool, he’s certain he’d explode with anger, or tears, or both. “That can’t be safe,” Nagito chuckles, and now, with Sonia and Akane’s eyes on him, too, he’s forced to chuckle as well.
“Oh- yeah. Heh,” he chuckles humorlessly. “Yeah, I guess I’m more tired than I thought…” he tries to explain. Sonia looks concerned.
“Perhaps you should take a nap in your cottage then, Hajime? It is not safe to fall asleep in the water- oh no, what if it is heat exhaustion?” Sonia frets over him, and Hajime’s about to assure her that he’s fine, until he remembers what else is in his cottage. A shower.
“Maybe you’re right,” Hajime pretends to concede reluctantly, when really all of a sudden he feels like sprinting towards his cottage. If he spends another second without release, he’s going to go mad. And so he makes his excuses to get out of the pool, hastily wrapping a towel around himself. He’s just beginning his walk back, trying not to appear like he’s in too much of a hurry, when he hears a sentence that makes his heart drop.
“I’ll go with him, just to be sure he gets back alright,” Nagito assures the other two. Fuck. Hajime can’t exactly object, not in front of the others, and so, reluctantly, he begins making his way back over to the cottages. The moment they’re inside, and out of view of the others, Nagito’s hand is on his hip, and Hajime hardly even recognizes the groan that escapes his lips. Just the touch below his waist makes him throb. His knees feel weak, he can’t think, he can’t stand another second of this. Nagito grins. “You were thinking of using the showerhead, weren’t you? Trying to get around your new accessory, were you?” He teases, and Hajime could cry.
“Please-“ Hajime almost sobs. He’s not even pleading for the belt to be taken off- just pleading to be allowed to use the showerhead to get off. And Nagito laughs.
“Yeah, alright, I’m feeling generous- show me what you were gonna do, thinking I wouldn’t find out,” Nagito teases.
Hajime doesn’t have to be told twice- he rushes for the bathroom, stumbling out of his swim trunks before Nagito can even close the door behind them. His shirt is next, then his binder. There was a time when he was ashamed to take his binder off around Nagito. Maybe he would be again, after Nagito turned on him, except the only thing he can think about is the swollen, throbbing member between his legs. It’s hard to see beneath the cage, but glistening dribbles of arousal slick the hair of his inner thighs near his dripping folds.
He settles into the tub, legs spreading as he scrambles for the shower head, turning it on. He yelps as it sprays cold water at first, his yelp quickly turning to a long, low groan as he tilts it towards his crotch. The water heats to lukewarm, and now he truly relaxes, head falling back, much too desperate to care that Nagito is kneeling beside the tub to watch with a smug grin on his face.
“Hah- ahhh- mm, please-“ he whines to himself as he tries to angle the spray of the showerhead between the bars of the cage. He’s able to get a light, pleasant rhythm against his clit, his leg twitching as his orgasm is quickly building. A light breeze could send him over the edge, he’s so worked up, and not having direct pressure doesn’t matter anymore. When Nagito suddenly grabs his hand and stops him, though, he lets out a sob, denied beyond his breaking point. That is, however, until he sees the silver glint of the key in Nagito’s hand.
“Found this washed up on the beach this morning,” Nagito chuckles, and Hajime resists the urge to tell him how much he doubts that. Seems like Nagito kept it around and just told him that to make him worry. But he doesn’t dare talk back or test his luck, not when Nagito is actively slipping the key into the lock and slipping the belt loose. Despite being the reason he was in it in the first place, Hajime gets the urge to kiss him the second his throbbing pussy is finally fully exposed to the spray of water, his hips convulsing as Nagito positions it closer, making sure the strong spray of water from the middle of the showerhead sprays right on Hajime’s dick.
His legs shake, his head leaning back to expose the column of his throat. He’s throbbing, his t-dick swelling to its full hardness now, around an inch, and Nagito chuckles.
“Mm, look at you…so hard. You’re ready to cum, aren’t you?” Nagito teases, a bit of a sadistic grin on his face. Hajime’s terrified he’s going to pull the showerhead away at the last second, only to put the belt back on, but he can’t focus on that, can’t focus on anything with the torrent of water massaging the sensitive nub. Nagito’s thumb and forefinger wrap around it, giving it a few firm strokes as he moves the showerhead up and down along the length of it, and Hajime’s cumming.
He’s hardly aware of the desperate, pathetic sounds he’s making, since his ears are practically ringing. Waves of hot, throbbing pleasure shoot through him, coming in pulses, his t-dick pulsing in time with his throbbing cunt, squeezing around nothing. He’s shaking, gasping and clinging onto Nagitos arm tight enough to leave bruises, curses tumbling from his lips. His hips buck up against the water, a few sprays of hot, clear fluid splattering into the tub as he squirts. Its complete bliss, his orgasm seeming to go on and on, and Nagito works him through it with the showerhead, murmuring encouragements.
Hajime feels completely boneless by the time the last spasm goes through him. He’s lightheaded, feeling almost drunk, as the spray of water takes him through the aftershocks. He’s spent, oversensitive, relieved as Nagito turns the water off the moment it becomes too much. His eyes fall shut- he can’t think well enough to speak, nor does he want to. Not after everything Nagito’s put him through. He doesn’t have it in himself to forgive him, but he doesn’t feel angry anymore, either. All of the tension has left his body.
To Hajime’s surprise, once he’s caught his breath, Nagito gently helps him out of the tub. His entire demeanor has changed as he begins to dry Hajime off. It’s the closest to affectionate Nagito has been since finding out that Hajime’s a reserve course student. Still, he doesn’t kiss him, or seem eager to cuddle like he would’ve been prior. But he doesn’t tease him for being pathetic, either, even though Hajime feels like his little display of desperation had been quite pitiful.
His legs feel wobbly as Nagito guides him to the bed. He lays down, setting the towel on the pillow to keep his wet hair from ruining it. As Nagito prepares to leave, Hajime finds his voice.
“Stay?” He asks. Soft and hopeful. Nagito looks conflicted, for a moment, then pained, as though he wants to, but something is holding him back. Hajime doesn’t understand it at all. Surprisingly, though, Nagito nods, and he comes to sit beside Hajime. He wordlessly cards his fingers through his hair, and Hajime’s eyes fall shut, pleasant tingles going down his spine at the feeling.
He didn’t realize how tired he was, but at some point, between the scalp massage and the post orgasm exhaustion, he’d drifted off. When he wakes up, Nagito is nowhere to be seen.