[team sonic] Hate-bites
It's nice to see sonic going so strong! Starting words from Hanakotoba.
WARNING: rough/painful sex, heavy angst
Yuto is already gone when he wakes up. Yamada expected no less, it doesn’t make it any easier though. He rolls onto his side, doesn’t even try to hold back the hiss as pain relays the length of his spine, dancing is out of the question today, photo-shoots too if his hazy memory serves him. He raises his hand to his shoulder, fingers prodding over his warm skin to count the tender spots. Three on his shoulder, probably already as dark as the bite mark he looks down to find purpling on his chest. There’s one on his abs too, two on his hip and five smaller bruises, barely visible, fingers splayed, digging just a little too hard.
Everything with Yuto is just a little too hard. His kisses too rough, too demanding, his teeth scraping Yamada’s swollen lip before moving down to mark his body up, sucking hard on the marks his teeth leave behind, tainting Yamada’s skin.
He fucks hard too, Yamada shoved down, face first into the sheets, his hips dragged up, back arched unnaturally as Yuto pounds into him like he has something to prove. It hurts in all of the right ways, a few of the wrong ones too, stretched too wide, winded by the length and breadth inside him, too much too fast. All of the cruel words that drip from Yuto’s lips.
Yuto won’t even mention it, he’ll smile and greet Yamada warmly like he didn’t just spend half the night tearing him apart. Yamada sometimes wonders how much of it he even remembers. He has to know something, because what else could he think has happened when he wakes up naked, Yamada’s bruised body and tear stained face beside him? There’s barely a trace of him left by the time Yamada wakes though, no warm body to embrace him, no note of apology, only the faint smell of smoke and bourbon clinging to his sheets, the slide of Yuto’s release, thick between his thighs and the darkening love-bites littering his skin.
They’re not love-bites, far from it, hate-bites maybe. He’d thought they were over all of that until the first time Yuto showed up on his doorstep, his intoxicated kisses laced with the stinging words. It should have been the only time. But even as Yamada curls up tight beneath his sheets, his body aching with each heaving sob, he knows it won’t be the last time.
WARNING: rough/painful sex, heavy angst
Yuto is already gone when he wakes up. Yamada expected no less, it doesn’t make it any easier though. He rolls onto his side, doesn’t even try to hold back the hiss as pain relays the length of his spine, dancing is out of the question today, photo-shoots too if his hazy memory serves him. He raises his hand to his shoulder, fingers prodding over his warm skin to count the tender spots. Three on his shoulder, probably already as dark as the bite mark he looks down to find purpling on his chest. There’s one on his abs too, two on his hip and five smaller bruises, barely visible, fingers splayed, digging just a little too hard.
Everything with Yuto is just a little too hard. His kisses too rough, too demanding, his teeth scraping Yamada’s swollen lip before moving down to mark his body up, sucking hard on the marks his teeth leave behind, tainting Yamada’s skin.
He fucks hard too, Yamada shoved down, face first into the sheets, his hips dragged up, back arched unnaturally as Yuto pounds into him like he has something to prove. It hurts in all of the right ways, a few of the wrong ones too, stretched too wide, winded by the length and breadth inside him, too much too fast. All of the cruel words that drip from Yuto’s lips.
Yuto won’t even mention it, he’ll smile and greet Yamada warmly like he didn’t just spend half the night tearing him apart. Yamada sometimes wonders how much of it he even remembers. He has to know something, because what else could he think has happened when he wakes up naked, Yamada’s bruised body and tear stained face beside him? There’s barely a trace of him left by the time Yamada wakes though, no warm body to embrace him, no note of apology, only the faint smell of smoke and bourbon clinging to his sheets, the slide of Yuto’s release, thick between his thighs and the darkening love-bites littering his skin.
They’re not love-bites, far from it, hate-bites maybe. He’d thought they were over all of that until the first time Yuto showed up on his doorstep, his intoxicated kisses laced with the stinging words. It should have been the only time. But even as Yamada curls up tight beneath his sheets, his body aching with each heaving sob, he knows it won’t be the last time.