Care and Feeding (Yoko/Sho)
title: Care and Feeding
pairing: Yoko/Sho
words: 2180
rating: NC-17
warnings: breathplay, slightly unhealthy relationship dynamics
summary: Yoko's not really sure if what they're doing is helping or hurting, but if Sho wants him to play the villain, he's happy to oblige.
notes: This was written for the "breathplay" square of my kink_bingo card, and was heavily inspired by a prompt Elfie gave me about a TQS-era Yoko/Sho kinkfic that's possibly unhealthily involved with their characters.
There's a message on Yoko's phone from Aiba that reads Sho-chan's been looking a little off lately, try and take good care of him, okay? Yoko thinks about it as he slips his cell phone into the pocket of his bag, pulling the hotel's bathroom door closed behind him-he's already dressed for the part, so he doesn't really need to be in here, but he likes to have a minute to himself to get into character, as it were. Yoko's not really sure if what they're doing is helping or hurting, but if Sho wants him to play the villain, he's happy to oblige.
Yoko gazes at himself in the mirror, his pale skin looking stark against the black of his hair and his clothes, not an outfit Yoko would normally wear but perfect for their purposes. He can hear a faint rustling from the other side of the door as Sho changes clothes, pulling on a pair of loose white pajamas. He lets himself think about it, his heart starting to beat faster and his skin heating up with that increasingly familiar electric tingle.
They meet in only the most discreet of hotel rooms, places with darkened underground entrances and unlisted phone numbers. Yoko's never treated anything in his life with this level of secrecy, and it serves to enhance the surreality of it all, makes it easier to get into character.
"Are you ready?" he asks, raising his voice just enough to be heard through the door. For a moment, there's only silence, but then he hears Sho's voice, slightly muffled but clear: "Yeah." Yoko takes one last look at himself in the mirror, taking a breath and closing his eyes. When he breathes out and opens them, his expression looks colder, less like himself.
When Yoko eases the door open, Sho's sitting on the edge of the bed, so obviously full of nervous energy even though he's not fidgeting at all. Yoko's nerves tingle at the sight of him, anticipation working its way through his bloodstream. Sho licks his lips, bringing his head up slowly to meet Yoko's eyes for a moment before his gaze darts back down.
"Get on your knees," Yoko says without thinking about it, and Sho slides smoothly down to the plush carpet, his movements a whisper of fabric. Yoko steps closer, feeling every bit of the sensation of power the position gives him, standing over Sho, positioned so the room's soft lamps cast a long shadow over Sho's kneeling form. The atmosphere is important, making it easier for Yoko to slip into character. Yoko runs his fingers through Sho's hair, the touch starting out gentle but quickly turning harsh when Yoko tangles his fingers through the dyed-brown strands and pulls, yanking Sho's head back and exposing his throat. He's rewarded with a gasp and the view of Sho's throat working as he swallows. His eyes look big when he tilts them up to look at Yoko, open and just a little frightened, already.
Yoko knows that Sho isn't that good of an actor, and it's always surprised him how easily he gets into this role. For Yoko it's easy: he just accesses the part of him that likes to plot and scheme, to manipulate people and situations for the sake of entertainment. It's not a huge stretch. But in Sho, when they do this, Yoko sees weakness and fear and vulnerability that still surprises him, even now, when it's become almost routine.
Yoko keeps his right hand fisted in Sho's hair, the grip unyieldingly tight, and curls his left under Sho's chin. He rubs the pad of his index finger over the curve of Sho's lower lip, feeling heat and damp when Sho exhales over his skin. His breathing is starting to speed up with anticipation and Yoko gives him what he wants, his hand sliding down until his fingers are poised around Sho's throat. When they started this, Yoko had been fascinated by the sight of his own hands, pale skin and long fingers tightening slowly until Sho couldn't breathe anymore. Lately, he finds himself more interested in Sho's reactions, the look on his face when Yoko takes his air away.
Sho's pulse is thumping right at Yoko's fingertips, the blood moving just below the thin surface of his skin. Yoko squeezes, just a tiny, almost experimental tightening of his fingers, and Sho lets out a small sound, something between a sigh and a moan. Yoko licks his lips. Sho's excitement might be more noticeable, but the anticipation's getting to Yoko too, and he wants to have a closer look at Sho's reactions. He hauls Sho to his feet, using the hand in his hair and the one at his throat.
When Sho's standing, their bodies mere centimeters apart, Yoko lets go of his hair, smoothing the hand down his torso until it hits the unmistakeable bulge of his cock. Yoko squeezes with both hands, Sho's cock and his neck at the same time, and the sound he makes this time is much more moan than sigh. His body is tense with the obvious effort he's making not to thrust against Yoko's palm.
"You like this," Yoko says, his voice low and accusing when he leans to speak into Sho's ear. Sho just shivers; Yoko can feel his cock twitch against his hand. He makes a noise of disgust and shoves Sho hard, so he stumbles backward onto the bed. Yoko can feel himself getting into it, and it feels good. He climbs onto the bed, forcing Sho to back up against the headboard. "If you like it so much," Yoko says as he straddles Sho's stomach, grabbing the collar of his pajamas to bring his face close, "you'll let me give it to you, won't you?"
"Yes." Sho nods quickly, tongue poking out to wet his lips. His face is flushed already, the rise and fall of his chest obvious against Yoko's hands. When Yoko releases his collar, Sho collapses back against the pillow. There'd originally been a pile of them, a plush little mountain of comfort, but they'd tossed them all to one side of the bed, comfort not being one of their priorities. Yoko brings his hands to Sho's throat again, but this time with more purpose. He starts squeezing immediately, watching how Sho's eyes widen, his mouth falling open as he tries to take in as much air as he can before Yoko's hands cut him off completely. He reaches up, grabbing at Yoko's arms, but Yoko ignores it.
"You said you'd let me," Yoko says, keeping up the same amount of pressure. Sho makes a choked sound and his eyes go unfocused for a second; Yoko lets up slowly, keeping his right hand on Sho's neck and reaching back with the left to rub over his cock. It's straining against the material now, hot against Yoko's hand. "Slut," he spits out, almost surprised by the vitriol in his tone. It has the right effect, though, making Sho shut his eyes and bite his lip. Yoko keeps rubbing Sho's cock while he tightens his right hand again. He's become quite practiced at choking, knows where to place his hands, how much pressure to use, when to stop and when to go harder; but while he's doing it he doesn't think so much, just lets the instinct take over. He drags his fingernails over the fabric covering Sho's dick, drinking in the hiccuping, desperate gasp that it draws from him.
"Open your eyes," Yoko orders, partly because he wants to see the look in them, but also because it's the easiest way to check Sho's condition. His face is red, his eyes wide and frightened, and Yoko feels a shiver of arousal work its way down his spine. He squeezes until Sho's eyes unfocus again, then slowly lets up. He gives Sho's cock a final squeeze before letting go of it and reaching to undo his own pants.
Straddling Sho's stomach how he is, it's impossible for Yoko to get his pants all the way off, so he just tugs them down enough to pull out his cock, then moves so he's closer to Sho's face, almost sitting on his chest. He puts his left hand on Sho's neck and places the fingers of his right against Sho's lips. When he starts to squeeze and Sho's mouth falls open, Yoko shoves three fingers in. He pushes them in far enough that Sho chokes, throat spasming under Yoko's hand and body tensing up.
Yoko draws a shaky breath and does it again, watching tears form at the corners of Sho's eyes. Sho makes a gurgling sound and coughs, spit running down his cheek. Yoko pushes his fingers in deep one last time before he pulls them out and wraps them around his cock. They're slick with Sho's spit, slipping easily up and down the shaft and making Yoko groan.
He keeps watching Sho's face, loosing the hold on his throat and seeing how he gasps for the air that's been returned to him, face red, eyes huge and shining. The only sounds in the room are Sho's heaving breaths and the slick movement of Yoko's hand on his cock. Yoko starts to tighten his hand again, before Sho's gotten his breath back, and Sho's eyes flash with fear.
"Please," he gasps, desperate, and it just spurs Yoko on. The more frightened Sho is, the better the release will be in the end, Yoko knows. He keeps squeezing, hand on his cock quickening. When Sho's eyes turn glassy, Yoko loosens his hand and comes with a low groan, splattering Sho's face with it. He leans back, watching Sho's chest heave, and then reaches his hand back to rub over the outline of Sho's cock. Just the exploratory touch is enough to make Sho moan, and Yoko grins, squeezing a little. Sho's hips buck up into the touch immediately.
"I'm gonna make you come in your pants," Yoko says, bending so his face is close to Sho's when he speaks. Sho groans, lifting his hips again, and Yoko sits up, starting to tighten his hold on Sho's throat while rubbing his cock through his pants. Yoko's come is still on Sho's face, probably drying sticky and uncomfortable by now. Yoko watches Sho's face contort, pleasure mixing with discomfort. His hips are thrusting desperately into Yoko's hand now, arousal only growing as Yoko presses harder on his neck, the slow, gradual choking.
When Sho seems like he's getting close, Yoko lets up the pressure and slows the touch on his cock, drawing a plaintive whine from Sho's lips even as he's gasping for breath. He only lets Sho breathe for a few seconds before he puts the pressure back, hand tightening suddenly on Sho's throat as he speeds up the strokes on his cock. He goes through the tease a few more times, until Sho is whimpering and almost shaking under Yoko's touch. When Yoko's been holding Sho's throat long enough that his head's probably spinning, he urges him on in a low voice.
"Come on," he says, "I know you want it. Just let go and come for me."
Sho does, his body tensing up and cock twitching under Yoko's hand, and Yoko releases his throat, letting him take huge, gasping breaths as the orgasm rushes through him. There are faint bruises around his neck, markers of where Yoko's hands had been.
Yoko climbs off of Sho while he's still catching his breath, pulling his pants and underwear back up. Sho looks a debauched mess, and Yoko's definitely going to be picturing this later, when he jerks off again. He steps into the bathroom, pulling the door shut behind him. He pours some water into a glass, gulps it down, and then runs warm water over a washcloth.
When Yoko comes out, Sho's sitting on the side of the bed, a dreamy look on his face. Yoko holds out the washcloth, and Sho takes it with a small smile.
"Thanks," he says. He sounds a little hoarse.
"Drink some water, okay?" Yoko says. He shoulders his bag and walks to the door.
"Really, thank you," Sho says.
Yoko shrugs. "I had a good time too," he says, feeling uncomfortable. "I'll see you tomorrow?"
"Yeah," Sho says, offering Yoko a smile and a small wave as he leaves.
In the elevator, Yoko tries to shake the guilty feeling that always settles over him after they do this. He pulls out his phone, looking again at Aiba's message.
You know him better than I do, Yoko writes. I don't know how to take care of him.
He gets a reply from Aiba when he's in the taxi, halfway home.
From what he told me, you're doing a fine job.
Yoko assumes Sho was vague about what exactly Yoko's doing to take care of him, until the next day he gets another message from Aiba telling him to be more careful about bruising.
pairing: Yoko/Sho
words: 2180
rating: NC-17
warnings: breathplay, slightly unhealthy relationship dynamics
summary: Yoko's not really sure if what they're doing is helping or hurting, but if Sho wants him to play the villain, he's happy to oblige.
notes: This was written for the "breathplay" square of my kink_bingo card, and was heavily inspired by a prompt Elfie gave me about a TQS-era Yoko/Sho kinkfic that's possibly unhealthily involved with their characters.
There's a message on Yoko's phone from Aiba that reads Sho-chan's been looking a little off lately, try and take good care of him, okay? Yoko thinks about it as he slips his cell phone into the pocket of his bag, pulling the hotel's bathroom door closed behind him-he's already dressed for the part, so he doesn't really need to be in here, but he likes to have a minute to himself to get into character, as it were. Yoko's not really sure if what they're doing is helping or hurting, but if Sho wants him to play the villain, he's happy to oblige.
Yoko gazes at himself in the mirror, his pale skin looking stark against the black of his hair and his clothes, not an outfit Yoko would normally wear but perfect for their purposes. He can hear a faint rustling from the other side of the door as Sho changes clothes, pulling on a pair of loose white pajamas. He lets himself think about it, his heart starting to beat faster and his skin heating up with that increasingly familiar electric tingle.
They meet in only the most discreet of hotel rooms, places with darkened underground entrances and unlisted phone numbers. Yoko's never treated anything in his life with this level of secrecy, and it serves to enhance the surreality of it all, makes it easier to get into character.
"Are you ready?" he asks, raising his voice just enough to be heard through the door. For a moment, there's only silence, but then he hears Sho's voice, slightly muffled but clear: "Yeah." Yoko takes one last look at himself in the mirror, taking a breath and closing his eyes. When he breathes out and opens them, his expression looks colder, less like himself.
When Yoko eases the door open, Sho's sitting on the edge of the bed, so obviously full of nervous energy even though he's not fidgeting at all. Yoko's nerves tingle at the sight of him, anticipation working its way through his bloodstream. Sho licks his lips, bringing his head up slowly to meet Yoko's eyes for a moment before his gaze darts back down.
"Get on your knees," Yoko says without thinking about it, and Sho slides smoothly down to the plush carpet, his movements a whisper of fabric. Yoko steps closer, feeling every bit of the sensation of power the position gives him, standing over Sho, positioned so the room's soft lamps cast a long shadow over Sho's kneeling form. The atmosphere is important, making it easier for Yoko to slip into character. Yoko runs his fingers through Sho's hair, the touch starting out gentle but quickly turning harsh when Yoko tangles his fingers through the dyed-brown strands and pulls, yanking Sho's head back and exposing his throat. He's rewarded with a gasp and the view of Sho's throat working as he swallows. His eyes look big when he tilts them up to look at Yoko, open and just a little frightened, already.
Yoko knows that Sho isn't that good of an actor, and it's always surprised him how easily he gets into this role. For Yoko it's easy: he just accesses the part of him that likes to plot and scheme, to manipulate people and situations for the sake of entertainment. It's not a huge stretch. But in Sho, when they do this, Yoko sees weakness and fear and vulnerability that still surprises him, even now, when it's become almost routine.
Yoko keeps his right hand fisted in Sho's hair, the grip unyieldingly tight, and curls his left under Sho's chin. He rubs the pad of his index finger over the curve of Sho's lower lip, feeling heat and damp when Sho exhales over his skin. His breathing is starting to speed up with anticipation and Yoko gives him what he wants, his hand sliding down until his fingers are poised around Sho's throat. When they started this, Yoko had been fascinated by the sight of his own hands, pale skin and long fingers tightening slowly until Sho couldn't breathe anymore. Lately, he finds himself more interested in Sho's reactions, the look on his face when Yoko takes his air away.
Sho's pulse is thumping right at Yoko's fingertips, the blood moving just below the thin surface of his skin. Yoko squeezes, just a tiny, almost experimental tightening of his fingers, and Sho lets out a small sound, something between a sigh and a moan. Yoko licks his lips. Sho's excitement might be more noticeable, but the anticipation's getting to Yoko too, and he wants to have a closer look at Sho's reactions. He hauls Sho to his feet, using the hand in his hair and the one at his throat.
When Sho's standing, their bodies mere centimeters apart, Yoko lets go of his hair, smoothing the hand down his torso until it hits the unmistakeable bulge of his cock. Yoko squeezes with both hands, Sho's cock and his neck at the same time, and the sound he makes this time is much more moan than sigh. His body is tense with the obvious effort he's making not to thrust against Yoko's palm.
"You like this," Yoko says, his voice low and accusing when he leans to speak into Sho's ear. Sho just shivers; Yoko can feel his cock twitch against his hand. He makes a noise of disgust and shoves Sho hard, so he stumbles backward onto the bed. Yoko can feel himself getting into it, and it feels good. He climbs onto the bed, forcing Sho to back up against the headboard. "If you like it so much," Yoko says as he straddles Sho's stomach, grabbing the collar of his pajamas to bring his face close, "you'll let me give it to you, won't you?"
"Yes." Sho nods quickly, tongue poking out to wet his lips. His face is flushed already, the rise and fall of his chest obvious against Yoko's hands. When Yoko releases his collar, Sho collapses back against the pillow. There'd originally been a pile of them, a plush little mountain of comfort, but they'd tossed them all to one side of the bed, comfort not being one of their priorities. Yoko brings his hands to Sho's throat again, but this time with more purpose. He starts squeezing immediately, watching how Sho's eyes widen, his mouth falling open as he tries to take in as much air as he can before Yoko's hands cut him off completely. He reaches up, grabbing at Yoko's arms, but Yoko ignores it.
"You said you'd let me," Yoko says, keeping up the same amount of pressure. Sho makes a choked sound and his eyes go unfocused for a second; Yoko lets up slowly, keeping his right hand on Sho's neck and reaching back with the left to rub over his cock. It's straining against the material now, hot against Yoko's hand. "Slut," he spits out, almost surprised by the vitriol in his tone. It has the right effect, though, making Sho shut his eyes and bite his lip. Yoko keeps rubbing Sho's cock while he tightens his right hand again. He's become quite practiced at choking, knows where to place his hands, how much pressure to use, when to stop and when to go harder; but while he's doing it he doesn't think so much, just lets the instinct take over. He drags his fingernails over the fabric covering Sho's dick, drinking in the hiccuping, desperate gasp that it draws from him.
"Open your eyes," Yoko orders, partly because he wants to see the look in them, but also because it's the easiest way to check Sho's condition. His face is red, his eyes wide and frightened, and Yoko feels a shiver of arousal work its way down his spine. He squeezes until Sho's eyes unfocus again, then slowly lets up. He gives Sho's cock a final squeeze before letting go of it and reaching to undo his own pants.
Straddling Sho's stomach how he is, it's impossible for Yoko to get his pants all the way off, so he just tugs them down enough to pull out his cock, then moves so he's closer to Sho's face, almost sitting on his chest. He puts his left hand on Sho's neck and places the fingers of his right against Sho's lips. When he starts to squeeze and Sho's mouth falls open, Yoko shoves three fingers in. He pushes them in far enough that Sho chokes, throat spasming under Yoko's hand and body tensing up.
Yoko draws a shaky breath and does it again, watching tears form at the corners of Sho's eyes. Sho makes a gurgling sound and coughs, spit running down his cheek. Yoko pushes his fingers in deep one last time before he pulls them out and wraps them around his cock. They're slick with Sho's spit, slipping easily up and down the shaft and making Yoko groan.
He keeps watching Sho's face, loosing the hold on his throat and seeing how he gasps for the air that's been returned to him, face red, eyes huge and shining. The only sounds in the room are Sho's heaving breaths and the slick movement of Yoko's hand on his cock. Yoko starts to tighten his hand again, before Sho's gotten his breath back, and Sho's eyes flash with fear.
"Please," he gasps, desperate, and it just spurs Yoko on. The more frightened Sho is, the better the release will be in the end, Yoko knows. He keeps squeezing, hand on his cock quickening. When Sho's eyes turn glassy, Yoko loosens his hand and comes with a low groan, splattering Sho's face with it. He leans back, watching Sho's chest heave, and then reaches his hand back to rub over the outline of Sho's cock. Just the exploratory touch is enough to make Sho moan, and Yoko grins, squeezing a little. Sho's hips buck up into the touch immediately.
"I'm gonna make you come in your pants," Yoko says, bending so his face is close to Sho's when he speaks. Sho groans, lifting his hips again, and Yoko sits up, starting to tighten his hold on Sho's throat while rubbing his cock through his pants. Yoko's come is still on Sho's face, probably drying sticky and uncomfortable by now. Yoko watches Sho's face contort, pleasure mixing with discomfort. His hips are thrusting desperately into Yoko's hand now, arousal only growing as Yoko presses harder on his neck, the slow, gradual choking.
When Sho seems like he's getting close, Yoko lets up the pressure and slows the touch on his cock, drawing a plaintive whine from Sho's lips even as he's gasping for breath. He only lets Sho breathe for a few seconds before he puts the pressure back, hand tightening suddenly on Sho's throat as he speeds up the strokes on his cock. He goes through the tease a few more times, until Sho is whimpering and almost shaking under Yoko's touch. When Yoko's been holding Sho's throat long enough that his head's probably spinning, he urges him on in a low voice.
"Come on," he says, "I know you want it. Just let go and come for me."
Sho does, his body tensing up and cock twitching under Yoko's hand, and Yoko releases his throat, letting him take huge, gasping breaths as the orgasm rushes through him. There are faint bruises around his neck, markers of where Yoko's hands had been.
Yoko climbs off of Sho while he's still catching his breath, pulling his pants and underwear back up. Sho looks a debauched mess, and Yoko's definitely going to be picturing this later, when he jerks off again. He steps into the bathroom, pulling the door shut behind him. He pours some water into a glass, gulps it down, and then runs warm water over a washcloth.
When Yoko comes out, Sho's sitting on the side of the bed, a dreamy look on his face. Yoko holds out the washcloth, and Sho takes it with a small smile.
"Thanks," he says. He sounds a little hoarse.
"Drink some water, okay?" Yoko says. He shoulders his bag and walks to the door.
"Really, thank you," Sho says.
Yoko shrugs. "I had a good time too," he says, feeling uncomfortable. "I'll see you tomorrow?"
"Yeah," Sho says, offering Yoko a smile and a small wave as he leaves.
In the elevator, Yoko tries to shake the guilty feeling that always settles over him after they do this. He pulls out his phone, looking again at Aiba's message.
You know him better than I do, Yoko writes. I don't know how to take care of him.
He gets a reply from Aiba when he's in the taxi, halfway home.
From what he told me, you're doing a fine job.
Yoko assumes Sho was vague about what exactly Yoko's doing to take care of him, until the next day he gets another message from Aiba telling him to be more careful about bruising.