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As soon as he slipped into the bathroom, Shouto turned to his boyfriend and stood on his tiptoes to plant a soft, sweet kiss to his lips.
Tenya hummed warmly as he returned it, latching the door shut with one hand and slipping the other around Shouto's slender waist.
“Hi,” Shouto smiled, murmuring the words against Tenya’s mouth. “You look so sexy today.”
Tenya exhaled a laugh through his nose as he stole a few more kisses. “You tell me that every day,” he rumbled affectionately. As soon as the lock clicked, his other hand found Shouto’s waist, pulling their bodies flush. “One of these days it’s going to lose its meaning.”
“Bullshit,” Shouto replied simply, smirking as he leaned back. Tenya laughed genuinely, the sparkle in his eye electric. Even if this was their normal routine, there was excitement in the air around them. They had both been looking forward to this all day.
Shouto slipped out of Tenya’s grip, and Tenya let him go willingly. After all, they weren’t locked away in an empty bathroom in an unused wing of the school during their free period for nothing. Shouto walked over to the expanse of countertop between the small handwashing sinks, sliding his bag onto it and pulling out their supplies: a rectangular cloth satchel, a little metal box with a latch, and an antique-looking leather cigarette case. Tenya dropped his own bag on the brown tiled floor before sauntering over to join him.
Shouto was still smiling as he slipped his small, glass cutting board out of its soft, neatly stitched custom sheath. The glass was made of some space-age wonder compound that rendered it unbreakable. It likely came with an exorbitant price tag. It had been a gift for Shouto’s 18th birthday. Tenya even had the corner etched with Shouto’s initials.
"How many do you want?" Shouto asked, too busy to look up when Tenya's hands slipped around his hips, when his warm, solid body pressed against Shouto's back, his hot breath ghosted over Shouto's neck. Shouto popped the latch on the little silver box with practiced ease. The spring-loaded top popped open with a soft click, and Shouto tapped an index finger on the side until a flaky white powder started to pile out onto the clean, clear glass surface.
"Mm, I don’t know, three? Four?" Tenya replied, breath hot behind Shouto's ear as he unbuttoned Shouto's blazer. Shouto's eyebrows shot up in surprise and he lifted his head, meeting the reflection of his boyfriend's eyes in the mirror.
"Jesus, it's not even lunchtime yet," Shouto remarked, but he couldn't help but smile as he tapped the canister a few more times, nearly doubling the size of the little powder mountain, before snapping it closed. "'Three or four.' You're starting to sound like me."
"I need a pick-me-up today," Tenya explained coolly, pulling Shouto's blazer off and tossing it onto the dry sink next to them before returning to his spot and unfastening Shouto's belt. "I'm starting to lose patience with those idiots."
He didn't need to elaborate: that was the way Tenya always referred to the self-described "Baku-squad." They were apparently content to already consider themselves sidekicks before they even had a chance at going pro. There were no delinquents at UA to speak of, but this clique was as close as it got. regularly encouraging one another to forgo their schoolwork in favor of goofing off. It was quite a headache for someone in a role such as Tenya's, forced to play shepherd trying to keep them in line as to not drag the rest of the class down too.
"Maybe if I get you high enough I'll finally get to see you snap and crack their skulls open," Shouto said with a grin, eyes cast down again as he slipped a shiny razor blade from the slot on the side of his canister.
"It gets more tempting every day," Tenya sighed. Shouto started to cut up the powder, halving it again and again to get eight little piles and shaping each one to form a neat row of short, skinny lines.
"It still turns me on when I think about the way you kicked Katsuki's ass that one time," Shouto glanced up at his boyfriend's reflection as an pang of arousal rolled through him at the memory of Tenya completely losing his cool, confronting the Katsuki in his own dorm room and kicking the shit out of him. The angry blond probably would have fought back harder had he not been caught so off guard by Tenya throwing a punch at all. And then another. And another. Tenya had never fought anyone before. The thing that set him over the edge had been some particularly cutting comments made about Shouto earlier in the day.
"He had it coming," Tenya replied coldly. "I'm just glad they understand not to regard my threats as ‘hollow’ anymore."
There had been no other witnesses to that beatdown aside from Shouto himself, but apparently word traveled fast. Katsuki had wisely refused to tell staff who he had fought as Recovery Girl healed his injuries. But considering how the rest of the class looked at Tenya from that day forward, everyone else knew the truth.
Tenya turned his attention to pulling the knot out of Shouto's tie and unbuttoning his shirt. From the way he was breathing heavily and mouthing over Shouto's shoulder through the fabric, Shouto could tell Tenya was getting antsy wanting access to the skin he was allowed to sink his teeth into and mark. Sure enough, he only got about halfway down before he slipped the shirt off of Shouto's shoulder and ran his teeth over the newly revealed skin. Shouto moaned deeply as he slipped the blade back into its little slot.
"Tenya," Shouto giggled, half-heartedly trying to pry Tenya's arms away as his boyfriend groped his hardening cock through his slacks. "Don't you want a line first?"
Tenya groaned melodramatically as he removed his mouth from Shouto's shoulder. The question was rhetorical. Of course he did.
Shouto wordlessly popped the button on the leather case. Along one of the sides a metal clip held a neat row of cigarettes, and along the other, a line of rigid plastic straws.
"Mr. Iida, will you do the honors?" Shouto held the case open for Tenya to take one.
But Tenya shook his head. "I want to watch you first." He rocked his hips forward against Shouto's ass. Shouto could feel he was already hard.
"Anything for you," Shouto purred, peeking back over his shoulder. He slid a straw from the clip in the case and snapped it closed, backing up against his boyfriend and bending at the waist. Tenya gripped Shouto's hips firmly as Shouto pressed a thumb to one nostril, and inhaled a single line of powder with the other. The stinging, stuffy sensation burned his sinuses instantly, bringing reflexive tears to his eyes, and he righted himself to tilt his head back. Fuck, it still hurt every time. It was painful but satisfying, like scratching an itch on a raw patch of skin. Shouto stifled the drip before it had a chance to start with a knuckle pressed under his nose. Tenya made a low, hungry sound as he sucked, licked, kissed Shouto's shoulder again. Slowly, the effects began to creep in on him. His heart started to race like a burst of euphoric adrenaline. He started to feel pure, white-hot energy coursing through his veins. After hours of fiending for it restlessly, the way it hit him was positively orgasmic.
"Fuck yeah," he whispered, eyes sliding shut. He held the straw between two fingers for Tenya to take as he shifted out of the way, gripping the countertop to stay upright. He blinked once, and suddenly his eyes were open wide, awake, perceptive. He was finally in control again. This feeling fit him like a glove. Slipping it on was natural, comfortable, custom-made and broken in. It made the storm clouds that always followed him part like the goddamn sea. It was all sunshine.
Tenya slipped off his own blazer - they knew better by now than to keep their dark jackets on when around the white powder, having had a couple of close calls before - and rolled up his sleeves. Routine. Shouto's heart thrummed as he watched the modestly muscular boy bend, and bring the straw to his nostril.
It shouldn't have been anything out of the ordinary, considering how many times he had done lines with others, or even how often he and his boyfriend did them together. But something about tight-laced Tenya indulging in this right alongside him never failed to thrill him. He couldn't peel his eyes away as one of the lines disappeared up the straw, as Tenya righted himself quickly, pinching his nose and tilting his head back, grimacing slightly. He sniffed loudly and shook his head, and his eyes popped open, pupils already expanding. It always hit him quicker. A sudden shift in his demeanor, and the cringe of the burn melted into a dark smirk.
"Fuck, you're sexy," Tenya growled. Shouto grabbed Tenya's tie to pull him closer. Their lips crashed together, constantly groaning, groping, ravenous. Shouto broke away for only a moment to glance down and run a finger through the trace amounts left from the lines they had taken. He wordlessly replaced the kiss with sliding that fingertip under Tenya's top lip, massaging the powder into his gums. He smiled at Tenya's surprise, an ache rolling through his body as Tenya drew that finger deeper into his mouth, curling his tongue around it and moaning, before the hungry, deep kisses resumed. The feeling of the heat of his boyfriend's solid body pressed against him, their racing pulses, and the blissful headrush. All at once, Shouto lost himself in it. He let everything else go.
When Shouto used, it always felt numbing. Like it was dulling the sharp, painful thorns most things in his life seemed to consist of. It formed a warm, protective barrier around him. It quieted his dark voices, made him forget reality for a little while. His next hit, next line or bump gave him something to look forward to. But in the same way he loved it, and he truly did, he also despised it. Because that feeling would always go away. He was always all too aware his confidence was propped up on toothpicks, ready to buckle under the weight of the world. Every line he did made him feel a little less connected to himself, and a little more dead inside.
But for Tenya… Shouto could see it in his eyes. When he used, he never looked more alive. He truly thrived on the rush. It gave him confidence. It let him be better than himself. He demanded more from life and received it in kind. His quirk training was thriving, he was stronger than he had ever been. Their peers respected his confidence, followed him without question. When he and Shouto had gotten together, he felt so unworthy. But things had changed so much. It wasn't the two of them in a relationship; there were three.
A fire burned within him so brilliantly, it was almost painful to stare directly into.
For Shouto, this drug was like stepping into the sun. For Tenya, the sun was who he became.
Shouto's breath was stolen from his lungs when Tenya suddenly turned him around, shoving him down and bending him over the bathroom counter by force.
“Slut,” Tenya spat, grinding against Shouto’s ass, pinning him with a hand on the back of his neck. “You’re aching for my cock, aren’t you?”
Shouto stared back at the stronger boy, eyes searing with venom, and he struggled against Tenya’s grip, just to be forced down again, harder. He whimpered. It was a little game they liked to play. He fucking loved the feeling of being so thoroughly overpowered.
During these daily visits when they would get high together, things always ended up getting hot and heavy. But it was usually just fingers, hands, mouths. It was uncommon to see Tenya this riled up and aggressive so early in the day. But that was what made it fun, being unable to predict the temperament the drug brought out of Tenya, the uncontrollable Mr. Hyde to his usual calm and collected Dr. Jekyll. Sometimes Tenya would get on his knees and worship Shouto's dick for half an hour. And sometimes… this would happen.
Tenya kept him still as he hastily unfastened his own pants. “I’m gonna fill you up, and you’re gonna keep it inside you all day. What do you think, slut?” The counter was too narrow for his hips to even come close to granting him friction on the edge of it. “You’re so goddamn lucky. But you know that, don’t you?”
He yanked the back of Shouto's pants roughly down his thighs, but Tenya had only unfastened his belt. Shouto felt the button of his slacks pop off and heard the soft tap as it hit the tiled floor. Tenya leaned back, palm flat between Shotuo's shoulder blades as he pulled Shouto's cheeks apart and spat. Shouto whined when he felt the warm wetness between his cheeks, dripping down over his hole. And without any further prep, Tenya was breaching Shouto with the head of his cock.
It was a good thing they had fucked that morning before class, or Shouto would have been in a lot more pain. He was still mostly stretched and slick inside. Not that it would have stopped Tenya. It never had before. Shouto's thighs quaked at the searing feeling of being impaled by his boyfriend's thick member, legs tethered together by his pants, babbling swears as tears filled his eyes. Tenya didn't stop until he was fully sheathed, but as soon as his hips hit Shouto's ass, he gripped Shouto by the throat and pulled him upright, back flush against Tenya's broad chest.
“I asked you a question, slut,” he growled, jaw clenched. He sounded irate. “Let’s try this again. You know you’re lucky, don’t you?”
“Yes, sir,” Shouto’s voice came out trembling. He knew Tenya loved him, and meant him no harm, but seeing him like this always hit him with the icy shock of fear. Tenya pulled his hips back and snapped them forward forcefully. Shouto sobbed.
Pain and pleasure, elation and terror, always together, a matching set. One and the same. Tenya's hips reared back again, agonizingly slowly. Shouto's legs wobbled, threatening to buckle. He swallowed in anticipation. His adam's apple pushed against Tenya's palm.
Shouto had no way to prepare for the immediate brutal pace his boyfriend set with his very next thrust. No doubt the speedy drug in his veins was a contributing factor. It was fortunate they picked such an empty wing of the school for this, considering how loud the slapping of skin on skin was, Shouto's unrestrained moans, Tenya's deep grunts and hissing through his teeth. Nearly a full minute of this had Shouto's body convulsing, eyes rolling back as Tenya marked his shoulder, sucking bruises along a messy trail. His hips slowed suddenly, thrusts rolling fluidly as he pressed his lips to Shouto's ear.
“I’m gonna beat your ass tonight,” he hissed. “And once you’re bruised and sobbing, I’ll fuck you raw when you can’t fight back.”
“Please,” Shouto slurred, tongue heavy in his mouth, whine choked off abruptly when Tenya’s hand tightened around his throat again. It made Shouto’s whole body clench. Tenya shuddered, moaning softly, twitching once inside Shouto’s ass. Tenya shoved Shouto’s upper body back down to the counter again.
“Do another,” he commanded. He didn’t need to elaborate. Shouto felt like his body was having a hard time keeping up with his racing mind as he reached out a shaky hand, sliding the glass tray closer. Tenya bottomed out, bruisingly gripping Shouto’s hips, moving his own in small circles as Shouto picked up the straw and inserted it into his nostril. “That’s right baby,” Tenya murmured. “I want to see you fucked up.”
Another line disappeared up Shouto's nose. The second one was always smoother. The cut he got was so pure, his sinuses were already numb. It was just perfect bliss at that point, dizzying his brain and pumping through his blood. He swore he could feel it moving inside him, like electricity in his veins, reaching all the way to his fingers and toes and lighting him up like a brightly buzzing neon sign. Warm. Controlled. Full. Safe. Sunshine. Motherfucking sunshine. He dropped the rigid straw, letting it clatter against the glass, just in time to brace himself for the pounding force Tenya resumed fucking him with.
“God I love the way your body shakes when you do that,” Tenya panted, tone broken up into wavering peaks of volume and pitch as his hips moved almost impossibly fast. “Fuck, I’m so close.” The side of Shouto’s head rested on the counter, his arms limp on either side of him. His eyes rolled back as he took it, mouth open and drooling. Every muscle in his body was loose, beyond relaxed. He was certain that the only thing keeping his legs from folding under him was Tenya’s strong, ironclad grip as he railed hisass. Tenya groaned loud and animalistic and he swore as his hips stuttered, and Shouto could feel his boyfriend’s dick pulse again and again inside him, pumping him full of his load. Shouto could already tell there would be heavy bruising on his hips. He could hardly wait for Tenya to press his fingers into them again later.
Before Tenya even pulled out, he rifled through Shouto's bag. Shouto's vision was slightly blurred but he didn't need his sight to understand Tenya was searching for the little pouch he kept in his bag at all times. He heard the sound of a zipper, and Tenya's flagging cock was replaced with the familiar feeling of his silicone plug being slid into place. Shouto felt drunk, so fucked out he was floating. Tenya just left him there as he tucked himself away, and his head appeared next to Shouto’s as he bent to do another line. Suddenly Shouto was hauled up and turned around, ass leaning against the counter, and his dick was enveloped with wet heat and Shouto’s fingers flew to Tenya's hair automatically. He hadn't realized Tenya had dropped to his knees. He also hadn't noticed how achingly hard he was, but it didn't matter. In seconds he was cumming hard down Tenya's throat, white sparks bursting in his eyes, his entire body jerking and tensing with the force of it. The moment he was spent he slumped back, neck at an angle with his chin pressing into his chest and his head resting against the cool glass of the mirror. He distantly realized this probably would have been really uncomfortable, could he actually feel it. But he was way too past gone to care. His eyes wouldn't even open more than tiny slits.
"You better get it together," Tenya mused, voice a little raspy. "We only have about 15 minutes to clean up and get down to the cafeteria." A sharp, elongated sniff. The telltale sound of Tenya doing another line.
"Just need a minute," Shouto's words came out clearer than he expected, considering how numb his mouth felt. But he was already trying to get himself up anyway. For a fiend like Shouto, there was nothing quite as motivating as the prospect of another line.
They finished, got cleaned up, and with one more bump each to keep them cruising for as long as possible, they made their way down to lunch.
As his high started to ebb, Shouto tagged along closely behind Tenya in the lunch line, chewing the skin by his thumbnail. The sudden taste of acrid plastic hit his tongue; another piece of his already chipped black nail polish had broken off. Tenya went along happily, picking out and putting both of their lunches on a single tray. Like he always did. Shouto let him, of course, knowing it made his boyfriend feel good, gentlemanly. He didn't have the heart to tell Tenya how awkward it made him feel.
Logically, he knew people envied their relationship. He regularly heard people refer to them as "goals." But it drew attention to them. At times like this, his paranoid, drug-addled brain could only feel dozens of pairs of eyes burning into him. Into both of them. Like they could sense the drugs in his bag, spot the bruises strategically hidden beneath his clothes. Like they knew Shouto's confidence was all chemical. Like they were minutes from learning every last one of their closely guarded secrets.
Everything they did had a practiced reason. The cocaine removed Shouto's appetite, so Tenya always selected him the smallest portion of soba they could get away with. That way, when Shouto pushed the noodles around his plate enough, it looked like the couple of bites he managed to choke down had amounted to a lot more. Tenya was used to consuming the required sustenance whether he wanted it or not -- a routine he picked up with his strict workout schedule. They kept to their small group of friends who never asked any questions. Tenya, who handled the comedown far more gracefully than Shouto ever managed to, led their part of the conversation. His crashing lows would hit him later, in private. Where he had a very willing outlet.
Their last period of the day was hero training, but the actual course only took place on Mondays and Thursdays. The other three days turned into study hall in the library. Most of the class used this time to finish up homework or prepare for projects or tests. But on Fridays, this turned into a true test of patience for Shouto and Tenya. They would often sneak small bumps between the wide, tall rows of books, eager for their weekend to begin. This Friday had Shouto especially eager, after getting fucked so good and so hard and having Tenya's cum plugged up inside him. After a few flakes of white powder inhaled from the pads of their pinky fingers, they slid into chairs in an isolated corner of the work area, their backs to the rest of the room.
Tenya was placing some things from his bag onto the table: a textbook, a folder. Shouto was just riding out his buzz, moving his chair closer to his boyfriend.
"I can't wait to be alone with you," Shouto murmured. He slid his hand slowly up Tenya's thigh. Tenya froze and tensed. "I'm sore, you know. You gonna make it worse?"
Tenya gave him a warning glance, but his lips turned up into a cocky smile. "Don't I always?" he replied quietly.
Shouto hummed the softest moan. "I like it when you hurt me," he purred, fingertips finding the inner seam of Tenya's slacks and sliding up toward his crotch. Tenya's eyes slid closed and he exhaled audibly through his nose. "I like when you can't control yourself and I can see it in your eyes." He palmed Tenya's soft dick through his pants.
With a shaky intake of breath, Tenya glanced over his shoulder, a quick cautious scan of the room to make sure no one was close by. "Acting out like this in front of everyone," Tenya mumbled as Shouto smoothly unfastened his boyfriend's belt. "Naughty. You must really be looking for a punishment."
Shouto was attempting to unbutton Tenya's pants with one hand, but was struggling to do so discreetly. Shouto had only ever taken things this far in public once before, here in this very library, and though Tenya hadn't stopped him, he’d told him off afterward. The risk was far too high for them to get caught for something so reckless. Getting in trouble even once for such a serious offense would ruin their reputations. They’d be watched much more closely by both students and staff.
Which is why Shouto was so surprised when Tenya, with one more paranoid glance around, reached down and unfastened his slacks himself.
Shouto felt the delicious prickle of danger as he pulled Tenya's dick out under the table. Tenya was already half hard, filling out more by the second. He picked up his pen and opened his notebook, and Shouto pretended to be watching what he was doing. But it was really just an excuse to lean in closer. To fill the gap between their bodies so no one could witness his arm moving as he quietly spat into his hand and started to stroke Tenya’s cock.
Tenya was throbbing before he was even fully erect. Shouto knew him to always be very vocal during sex, especially when he was high, so he was aware of the tremendous amount of effort he was exerting to keep silent, to keep his breathing even.
"You gonna make me bleed?" Shouto asked, voice barely above a whisper. Tenya's eyes were closed. Focused on remaining stoic. "Cover my body in black and blue? Crack a rib, like my last punishment?" His hand sped up. He watched Tenya's adam's apple jump as he swallowed, making the knot of his tie jump. "Please, daddy." He croaked the words, the quietest moan he could muster.
Tenya pulsed in his stroking fist. That nickname, always reserved strictly for the times Tenya beat on him, did something carnal to them both. In seconds, Tenya's fists balled tight, shaking as he gripped his pen, and he came over Shouto's fingers, spilling directly onto the library floor. Shouto bit his lip and smirked watching his boyfriend's body tense as he tried to keep his shaking to a minimum. Shouto helped him tuck himself back in, and a single finger of his free hand under Tenya's chin turned his head so Shouto could plant a soft kiss to his gasping lips. The dark haired boy followed his mouth with a much more aggressive one as he caught his breath.
"You… are in so much trouble," he panted, exhaling the words as a whisper against Shouto's pout.
Shouto's lips curled into a smile. Others in class may have once regarded Tenya's threats as hollow, but that's something Shouto could never get wrong. He knew this threat -- this promise -- was something his boyfriend fully intended to make good on.
And he was counting on it.
They, along with the rest of the class, awaited final bell with restless impatience, ready to be set free for the weekend. The rest of their class shuffled out and toward the dorms, dispersing in small groups into the chaos of the rest of the student body, the crowd buzzing with a chatty excitement at their long-awaited freedom. But when Shouto and Tenya broke away from the rest, they calmly headed straight toward the front gates of UA, hand-in-hand. Right outside, always parked in the same spot along the curb, was a driver on the Todoroki family payroll. His job on Fridays was to take them to their condo, and then on Sunday evening, return them to school. Don't ask questions, don't make eye contact, keep the partition up. He did his job well, was paid generously, and tipped even more generously by Shouto to ensure his lips remain sealed. See, hear, speak no evil.
They climbed into the backseat of the dark car with the tinted windows and were whisked away. And they fell into their weekend routine. Tenya flipped down a tray table in front of them and rifled through Shouto's bag. Shouto’s eyes drifted closed as he waited for Tenya to prepare a few lines for each of them, feeling the car sway.
Their destination was a little weekend home they had purchased. Well, that Enji had purchased without his knowledge, both in name and funds. They used to spend weekends holed up in one of their two family homes; the Iida mansion frequently sat empty, and the Todoroki estate was sprawling enough that it may as well have been. But pro hero parents meant irregular schedules, and as their habit grew stronger and their sex more debauched, the paranoia and uncertainty of never knowing who might show up to interrupt their fun started to feel oppressive.
At first it was brought up as a half-joke, getting their own place where they could do drugs and fuck. But the more they discussed it, the more serious they became, and by the following weekend they were signing papers. Calling a furnishing service to fill their new place with the essentials, setting up housekeeping to show up on Mondays, to follow them in to clean up their mess so they didn't have to bother. And just like that, they began to experience true freedom. No risk of unwanted company, no risk of having to answer uncomfortable questions. No witnesses, no judgment. No one to tell them they'd had enough. It was a neverending supply of cocaine and alcohol, passion and sex, handprints and scratches and choking and screaming. Their own personal paradise. The rest of the world ceased to exist. And it was there they fell truly, deeply in love. They trusted each other, took care of each other. They became the sun and moon. They gave each other everything. It took Tenya a while to willingly harm Shouto like he begged for, but Tenya embraced it over time. In the same way Shouto had to learn to shelve his discomfort in their occasional slow and tender lovemaking. Tenya just needed the closeness sometimes, but the intimacy and vulnerability felt stifling to the loner who had his walls built up so high. But they learned to enjoy it. They learned for each other.
Love can look like a lot of things: like bruises and drugs and burned money. Like tears shed and blood spilled, like vomit on the bathroom floor. The highest highs, and the lowest lows. The world was theirs. And life was beautiful.
Especially when they cut it into lines and breathed it in.
Tenya elbowed Shouto gently in the ribs, and Shouto reached for the straw in Tenya's hand before his eyes even opened. Four neat little lines on the glass. Two for each of them. The perfect amount for their short drive, to give them a jumpstart. And by the time they reached the condo, the lines had disappeared, and everything else was secured back inside Shouto's bag.
They barely made it through the door and dropped their bags when Tenya unexpectedly slammed Shouto against the wall with a hand on his chest. It happened so fast it effectively stole the breath from his lungs -- and he had no chance to catch it again before Tenya grabbed his tie, looping it around his hand and pinning it to the wall next to Shouto's head.
"You think you're real funny, huh?" Tenya hissed, crowding Shouto, getting in his face. The tie around Shouto's neck wasn’t choking him completely, but it restricted his breathing enough for him to reply with a pathetic-sounding wheeze. Tenya grabbed Shouto's jaw with his other hand. "I know you were acting out, just wanting a punishment. You're sick, baby. Anyone ever tell you that?" Tenya was so close, Shouto could feel spit spray as Tenya's words hit his lips and nose. The hand gripping his tie twisted against the wall. His mouth fell open in alarm. He couldn't breathe at all anymore. "I guess I have to do better to make your lessons stick, huh?"
The lack of oxygen was just starting to drain the room of its color when Tenya eased up suddenly; Shouto took in a blessed gasp, but the relief was short-lived when Tenya reared back and punched Shouto hard in the gut, a cannonball sinking into the space below his ribcage. A partially-numbed shockwave of pain thrummed through him, eyelids flying open and jaw dropping, cutting into the overheated vibration of his high. His organs protested the pressure behind the impact; it only lasted a couple of seconds, tops, but in that brief moment Shouto could swear he could feel the imprint of every pointed knuckle on Tenya's tightly balled fist.
The force of it slammed Shouto up against the wall, and the moment Tenya pulled away and turned a cold shoulder, he crumpled to the floor, coughing and wheezing. His middle already felt like one big bruise. He pulled weakly at the overly-tightened knot of his tie. Tenya unbuttoned his blazer, shrugging it off, and draped it over a nearby chair.
"Strip," he commanded, tone soft but firm. He didn't look back at Shouto. He was focused on pulling off his tie, unfastening his shirt. Shouto was trembling as he started to remove his own uniform. He wasn't expecting all of this so quickly. But, he supposed, he had asked for it. The turbulence had morphed his buzzing, mellow high into a rhythmic reverberation in his head and dancing flames, patchy and moving on his skin. It was itchy and made him feel nervous and unprepared to handle his boyfriend in this state -- but he reveled in the feeling, adoring the way Tenya could still surprise him, keep him on edge, even after all this time.
He managed to get his jacket and tie undone, in spite of his fumbling fingers, and let them hang open for the moment because he didn't trust he could support himself if he moved away from the wall. But he was finding the smaller buttons of his shirt a much harder task, his motor skills delayed and uncooperative under the impatience he was sure to receive at any moment. And sure enough, within seconds Tenya was in front of him again, tank top untucked, belt hanging open and pants unfastened, knees bending to squat down and stare straight through Shouto with narrow eyes.
"Having trouble?" he cooed, sticking out his bottom lip in a mockery of pity. "Let me get that for you." He gripped the two sides of Shouto's shirt and yanked them apart, ripping off several buttons. It set Shouto's heart racing anew, making him flinch at the unexpected display of strength, and as he clenched up reflexively he was suddenly reminded of the plug still seated in his ass from earlier. It sent a shooting pang of ache straight to his crotch. Glaring, Tenya stood again.
"When I tell you to do something--" He forcefully shoved a still-wobbly Shouto over onto his side with a single foot, then used that foot to step on Shouto's neck. "--I expect it to be done." The hard, filthy rubber on the bottom of his polished shoe pressed grimy dirt into Shouto's skin.
"Daddy," Shouto croaked, eyes bulging wide as he stared up at his irate boyfriend. Forcibly going without oxygen for so long was starting to trigger the panic switch in his brain.
"I don't know why you insist on wasting my time." Tenya twisted his foot, pressing forward, heel digging into Shouto's throat. Shouto inadvertently let out a nearly silent, broken-sounding squeak; an automatic, pathetic plea for help from his poor crushed windpipe. He could feel the deep bruises forming like a footprint-shaped collar as his pulse hammered against Tenya's sole. "I ask for so little, and I still have to do everything for you."
As soon as Tenya's foot was gone, it returned to him in force, laying into his gut with a powerful kick. The agony was immediate, cutting, like he was split open at the site of the blow. But it was followed by another kick to his ribs, and then another, and another, the top of Tenya's foot and shin doling out most of the impact, but did little to lessen the pain -- if anything, it just spread it out wider. Shouto choked out pathetic, wheezing coughs with every kick.
He could already feel the tears streaming from his eyes, running over the bridge of his nose and down his temple, wrapping around his head and mixing with the sweat saturating his hairline. Every blow was like fireworks exploding, floating him up out of his own body, overstimulating every one of his senses. He smelled the coppery tang of blood, tasted the acidic flavor of bile. Tenya reared his foot back once more, but hesitated as Shouto's entire body flinched to brace itself, and that foot returned to the floor gently instead as Shouto lay there, curled up and sobbing.
Sensing the kicks were finally over, Shouto wrapped his arms around his middle, and rolled over onto his knees to shield his stomach from further abuse. He wasn't sure how many more he could have taken. Every nerve in his body was screaming, his battered torso throbbing and burning. "Daddy, daddy," he warbled. His forehead rested on the cool wooden floor as he held himself tenderly and let his tears spill.
The pain was nothing new, and nothing he couldn't handle. He had been subject to physical trauma throughout most of his childhood, and even into his adolescence under the care of dear old dad. But fucked up as it was, those beatings were the closest thing Shouto got to affection from his paternal guardian. It was the only time Shouto received his full and undivided attention. It was a rare showing, the care he would take to cover Shouto so thoroughly with bruises.
But as Shouto got older, he became more defiant and stubborn. He didn't want to give his father the satisfaction of breaking him emotionally anymore, so he forced himself to learn to deal with the physical side. Digest the pain immediately, deny it, separate from it. And eventually he was able to just stop responding altogether. His crying and wailing and begging were replaced with this new kind of numbness, with only silent tears and passive resignation. And as soon as he did, that burning rage his father unleashed on him for so many years seemed to be inexplicably extinguished as well. Simultaneously, abruptly replaced with the deafening, cold void of complete apathy. And from that point forward, his father ceased acknowledging he even existed. No words spoken, no glances in his direction. Shouto had gotten what he wanted. Or what he thought he had wanted. But somehow, in the end, he still managed to lose again. The unending pain survived, evolving into a whole new kind of miserable. He didn't know which reality he despised more.
But that feeling was something he craved for years after. He missed the pain, chasing it fruitlessly like a different kind of high with drugs and self harm. But dealing the pain himself barely scratched that itch. He needed to be able to let go. After he and Tenya had been together a few months, Shouto begged for Tenya to hit him during sex. Tenya met Shouto's request with the same sort of extreme reluctance he’d shown when Shouto got him to try a bump of cocaine for the first time. If Shouto was honest with himself, he knew that early on in their relationship he took advantage of how infatuated Tenya was with him. Tenya always called him beautiful, and Shouto used that devotion, twisting it in his fingers before it was returned, tempting and corrupting the straightlaced boy with his wild way of life. Shouto regrettably always destroyed the things around him. He was a hurricane.
But inevitably, Tenya came to embrace these wild things, and before long, even genuinely enjoy them. He came alive when he was high, and now he was even more addicted than Shouto was. And his newfound sadistic side became an excellent outlet for his pent up frustration. As bad as he hurt Shouto, there was always still love in his eyes. And the love-stained abuse was exactly the thing missing from Shouto's life. It was exactly what he needed.
Much like the tears spilling from him now, it was cleansing. It made him complete while it reduced him to nothing. He needed it like the air in his lungs and the chemical in his veins. He needed it.
"This is the last time I'm going to say it," Tenya threatened. "Strip."
Despite feeling a million miles away from his body, he was able to ground himself just enough to stand, shuck off his blazer, pull his ruined shirt over his head. He unfastened his pants, and had to brace a hand on the wall as he got to his unsteady feet, trembling and still knotted up in pain. His slacks, which were too big on his slim body to begin with, dropped to the floor in a bunched pile, and he awkwardly toed off his shoes beneath them. He kicked it all away, and looked up for approval just in time to be slapped hard across the cheek. He gasped sharply as the force of it wrenched his head to the side. He could feel the piercing, eye-watering pinch of his bottom lip splitting open. A feeling he knew all too well.
"Whore," Tenya growled, crowding him claustrophobically close. He followed it up with a second slap, worsening the laceration on Shouto's lip. Shouto could feel his cheek swelling already, could feel the exact shape of Tenya's handprint radiating scorching heat. He whimpered, slumping back against the wall.
"Don't act like you don't love this." The malicious smile that crept across Tenya's features took Shouto's breath away. "I know you love this, baby."
Tenya struck him once more, but this time, his hand had balled into a tight fist. The knuckles of his folded fingers collided with Shouto's cheekbone and temple. Then a second punch followed without pause, this one aimed more centrally, hitting his left eye and the bridge of his nose. Shouto could feel the sickening crunch of something cracking. The pain sensors in his brain went haywire, sparking like Christmas lights, making his head feel too heavy for his neck. His legs folded under him and his eyes rolled back as he crumpled to the floor again. Even with his eye starting to swell shut, with his vision dizzy and blurry with tears, he was already so hard it tented the front of his boxer briefs. He took a deep, raspy breath in, feeling wet flecks hit his tongue from his bloodied nose running down to coat his top lip.
Tenya was only half right, though. He loved it, but he hated it. Every second of it. He was sick, and he loved and hated being sick. He loved and hated being made to feel as damaged on the outside as badly he was inside. He loved and hated that this was his life, this is what made him complete: the abuse, the fear, the drugs. He loved and hated that he could have all of it, anytime he wanted it. As much as he wanted. And he loved and hated that he was pulling Tenya down this circling drain with him.
"Lay down on the floor. On your back," Tenya commanded. Shouto couldn't remember how to move. He blinked up at his boyfriend, who was staring at his own palm, rubbing out the residual soreness from the punches with his other hand. But when Shouto didn't budge, Tenya's attention snapped to him. "Now."
It felt like he was in slow motion as he flopped onto his side, rolling over onto the hard floor. Tenya dropped his boxers, stripping completely nude before he kicked Shouto's bag closer. He stepped over Shouto, feet framing his body, and dropped to his knees. He grabbed the closest discarded piece of clothing he could reach and roughly rubbed it over Shouto's chest, wiping away the sticky mess of blood and sweat.
"So here's how it's going to go," Tenya explained as he unzipped Shouto's bag and retrieved the little canister of cocaine without even having to look. He flipped the top and tapped his finger on the side, pouring a small pile onto the center of Shouto's sternum, between his pecs. "You're going to fuck me." He smiled to himself as he snapped the top closed with his index finger. "You're going to get yourself cleaned up, and meet me in the bedroom. I don't care how much you're hurting, or how out of it you feel. You're still going to do a good job, aren't you?" As he spoke, he slid the shiny razorblade from its slot and started cutting the powder into a line. Shouto knew every movement was deliberately careful not to harm him or break the skin. But he couldn't help holding his breath anyway, afraid to let his chest move even slightly.
He wasn't afraid of getting cut. He was afraid of ruining the drug with his blood.
"You're going to make me cum first," Tenya continued. He flipped open the cigarette holder. "Do well enough and I might just take pity on you." Straw between his fingers, he bent down, and Shouto felt the plastic scratch lightly along his skin as Tenya inhaled. Shouto's muscles twitched with envy, craving a taste. Tenya cried out softly in pleasure as he sat up, tilting his head back and sniffling, eyes gently closed and expression blissed out. He chuckled darkly before bending again to crash his mouth against Shouto's for a long moment, and as soon as he broke the kiss, he slapped Shouto hard across his face once more.
"Hurry up," Tenya warned, pushing himself to his feet effortlessly, and in seconds he had disappeared down the hall.
The moment he was out of sight, Shouto scrambled to grab his canister, needing a quick line to numb the pain enough to even get himself up. He was a pro at working quickly, a skill he acquired from his time as an addict under his family's roof. His eyes were still watering from the drug when he finally stood. He didn't bother bringing their supplies with him as he limped down the hall. He didn't need them. They were in their own space now. There were drugs in every room of the house.
He slipped into the bathroom and turned on the tap, running a black washcloth under the warm stream, examining his face in the large mirror over the sink. His eye was swollen and already turning purple, but looked worse than it felt. He could still see out of it. His vision was blurry, but it was something. His cheek was swollen with splotches of dark red, and there was a small clotted-over cut on his cheekbone from the force of the blows he had taken. He had a good amount of dried blood down the side of his face and below his nose and chin. His bottom lip was split not just once, but twice, and he wondered how he hadn't noticed the second time. He must have been already gone by then. He started to wipe off the blood. He knew it should have hurt to run the cloth over his cuts, but he couldn't feel a thing. Perfect.
As he wrung out the sickly-pink-tinged water from his cloth, he stared at his reflection. He’d lost a lot of weight recently, his frame seeming closer to skin and bones than was probably healthy. And half of his middle was an angry dark red, sure to bruise over beautifully by tomorrow, providing the illusion of a pedestal to display the most shameful part of his body, in his own opinion - his tattoo.
When he was younger and just starting to use, he didn't have the convenient connections that made house calls like he did now, and he had to travel deep into the slums to get his fix. More often than not, he’d stick around after the transaction, partially because a dealer seeing you get fucked up right then and there built trust, but mostly because he wasn't ever eager to return home. One night, a man was there with a tattoo gun, finishing up a pentagram on the hip of a half-naked, half-conscious girl sprawled out on the floor. Shouto had been at critical odds with his father at the time, his hatred hitting a fever pitch, and Shouto got the man's attention, pulling bills from a wad in his pocket and requesting the most offensive thing he could fathom at the time: an erect penis, just below his left pec, with cumdripping down his ribcage.
Tossing the bills at the man was the last thing he remembered before he blacked out, and when he awoke many hours later, his pockets were empty, and he had received exactly what he asked for. As he walked home, he was in a kind of dazed disbelief. He couldn’t exactly put his finger on why he would ever request something so humiliating be permanently etched on his body. But he didn’t yet know the half of it, because it wasn't until later, when he looked at the ink in his bathroom mirror, that he realized the way the cum was dripping very clearly spelled out the words RICH BOY.
Whether their cruelty stemmed from jealousy, or they just sensed his naive gullibility, Shouto would never know. But he did know that he would never be able to convince others he hadn't asked for those words. That he hadn't wanted to be branded as that. And he was certain that the people there knew this, too. Not to mention the fact that explaining the events leading up to it would be just as humiliating as the tattoo itself. But he also knew he deserved it, for flaunting his money like he had, for trusting them like he did. His insistent rebellion had come back to bite him.
He thought he fit in there, in that place, in a way he couldn't fit in around his family or his peers. He counted himself among the junkies, and felt accepted in that isolating way they must have all felt. But he couldn’t have been more wrong. He knew how they saw him, now. He knew what those words implied. Spoiled. Entitled.
They were all just mocking him.
He never told anyone the story behind it. Fortunately, Tenya found the idea of him having a tattoo in the first place to be hot, so he never asked questions. And Shouto just never took off his shirt in front of their classmates again. The truth behind it was something he would take to his grave, if he could help it. It was the perfect analogy for the mess his life was, and had always been.
Hiding it in plain sight, just like his abuse. Pretending to be proud of it, just like his father continued to do with him. Covering up the shame, the sadness, the knowledge that it was a part of him now, and even if he tried to get rid of it, he couldn't, a part of it it would still be there, holding on. Just like his addiction. He would still remember the years he lived with it, like he lived with his demons, like the voices in his head. It was woven into the fabric of himself.
But the gentle flaky snowfall of the drugs onto the glass made everything easier. And sharing it with Tenya made him feel like, for the first time in his life, he wasn't alone. He found his true loves, his soulmates, and he didn't need the world to understand. He had everything he needed right here.
He felt steadier on his feet as he rejoined his boyfriend, who he found on the bed, face down and ass in the air, moaning softly as he stretched himself open. Leave it to Tenya to turn his impatience into efficiency. He was already three fingers in.
"Took you long enough," he murmured without opening his eyes. Shouto hadn't even realized he'd been noticed. "I left some on the table for you." He flopped onto his back as Shouto approached the nightstand. The surface was some expensive black stone, polished smooth and shiny, and no less than a dozen fat lines were already cut up and waiting. Shouto was grateful Tenya hadn't broken his nose this time as he made two of them disappear. Tenya stroked himself lazily, watching as Shouto dropped the straw and slid off his boxers, climbing onto the bed.
"You look beautiful," Tenya's lip curled in a smirk, referring to Shouto's injuries.
Shouto didn't reply, but felt himself blush. The bruises made him feel beautiful. He slotted between Tenya's legs and Tenya lubed him up quickly, stroking him and getting him back to full hardness as Shouto bent to kiss him, moaning into his mouth. The high was starting to pick up quickly, pulse speeding up and setting his blood on fire. It amplified his pleasure and made Shouto hard again to the point of throbbing in almost no time, and Tenya pulled his legs up to let Shouto align and slide past his boyfriend's rim.
The tight heat immediately made Shouto's head swim, but the sound that Tenya made, that he always made when being breached, was enough to nearly make Shouto cum right on the spot. He clenched around his plug, reminded once again of its presence, and his thighs trembled remembering that even if he was the one above Tenya at the moment, nothing about their dynamic had switched hands. Tenya was the one who orchestrated this. Tenya was still the one in control. Shouto was still full of his cum.
“Fuck, Tenya,” Shouto moaned softly, eyelids flickering as he pushed in. He was quickly being submerged by the electric, living intoxication flooding his senses, mixing with the feeling of Tenya's body quaking under the pressure of the penetration. Needing desperately to keep himself in check, he bit his lip sharply without thinking, inadvertently re-opening the wounds. The all-too-familiar metallic taste spread across his tongue. He shouldn't find that as arousing as he did.
Tenya gripped himself with a tight fist, eyes squeezed shut, moaning sweet and short like a prayer. His other hand clutched his leg, aiding in folding himself nearly in half, as much as his muscular body would allow. As soon as Shouto bottomed out, he paused there for a moment, just as much for Tenya as for himself. He gazed down at his impossibly gorgeous boyfriend, feeling the ecstasy rock between them back and forth like a pendulum. Like a pair of lungs breathing. Like a single heartbeat.
If Shouto was a hurricane, then Tenya had become one, too. As many times as Shouto blamed himself for that change, Tenya always insisted it would have just been a matter of time anyway. Every storm cloud, if given the right circumstances, had the potential to grow wilder and more destructive. Tenya had his own demons he kept hidden away. Shouto had just showed him a way to harness them. To thrive in spite of them. They had become equals, partners, on the same level ground. Shouto just wished Tenya hadn't needed to fall so far to meet him there.
Shouto started to move his hips, pulling back slow, and Tenya choked on a sob. Shouto could see just as much as feel Tenya's body tighten, his abs flex and neck muscles bulge. He didn't bottom often, and his reaction showed it. Shouto's size wasn't anything particularly special, but it was more than enough for him.
"Baby, goddamn," Tenya slurred, as Shouto set a slow but building rhythm. Tenya's eyes cracked open, squinting up at Shouto, but they shot open wide on a particularly deep thrust. He gasped, back arching as Shouto ran his hand up his built body, groping his solid abs, fingers trailing up his heaving sternum and veering off to grope one of his pecs. Tenya started to stroke himself again but his pace stuttered, lost in his pleasure. Shouto was feeling the fire in him build, twisting and tightening into tangled knots, and he increased his speed and force immediately, knowing he wasn't allowed to find his own release first. He helped push Tenya's legs up more, and was rewarded with a particularly lewd whimper at the angle change.
"Right there, please don't stop," Tenya wheezed, but Shouto already knew, and he had immediately started slamming his hips forward with as much strength as he could muster. Tenya's mouth hung open in silence as he stared into Shouto's eyes, as the whole bed lurched with every thrust.
"You hurt me so good, daddy," Shouto gritted out through clenched teeth, words coming out more pointed than the emotion behind them, strained beneath the force used to rail his boyfriend's ass. "Gave me pretty bruises." His bitten nails were pressing into Tenya's thighs where he held them up. "Made me bleed, just like you promised." It was a struggle to make the words. Every ounce of energy he wasn't exerting in his attempt to pound Tenya to pieces was being used to hold back his own climax. "You gonna cum for me?" Tenya was so close. He couldn't say it, but Shouto could feel it. “Please, daddy, I want to see it. Cum on my cock.”
As if on cue, Tenya let out a colossal breath, and his body convulsed as he shot his mess onto his own stomach.
“Fuck, oh fuck,” he whimpered, spilling thick white lines on himself. "Fuck, god, fuck yeah."
Shouto kept his hips moving, feeling lightheaded from the way Tenya was clenching around him so tightly in tandem with the waves of his release.
"Baby. Shouto." Tenya panted hard, shaky hand slowing gradually as each twitch of his dick produced less and less.
His skin glistened with a sheen of sticky sweat, splotchy pink staining from his cheeks to his collarbones, face contorted in bliss as he milked himself boneless. He was so perfect, so gorgeous, Shouto was suddenly and unexpectedly overwhelmed with love. A couple more thrusts and he tipped over the edge too, unloading deep inside Tenya, the loud moans and gasps falling from his lips completely out of his control. His eyes fought to close but he couldn't tear them away from the man below him.
He didn't deserve Tenya. He didn't deserve any of this. The emotion hit him like a truck. He fucking hated it. He couldn't stop the tears if he tried.
"Tenya," he sobbed, hiding his face in the crook of his boyfriend's neck.
Love can look like a lot of things.
"Shouto… I love you so much…"
Like deep trust and dark secrets kept.
"I love you, too. More than anything."
Like contradiction, like impossible duality.
"Tenya. Tell me you'll never leave me."
Like screaming and silence. Like weakness and strength. Like so much confided, and so much more left unsaid.
Like messy white lines on a clean, black table.
"I'll never leave you, Shouto. Never."
Love can look like a lot of things, but addiction can, too. And the one thing that unites them both is an unfaltering, all-consuming dependency. Love was a drug more pure and potent than anything Shouto had taken in his life. And much like the time he tried his very first bump, he wondered where this feeling had been for so long, how he’d survived without it. It was a piece that had been missing in his life, a gaping void that had gone unnoticed, one that he didn't know how desperately he needed filled. But as soon as it was, he could never go back. And they both gave him a rush like nothing else ever had before.
It was a simple fact of life that there would always be too much of a good thing. But in turn, life was too fickle and fleeting to not be greedy and grab every moment of bliss that could be found.
He clung to Tenya tightly. The tears had stopped. He didn't know when, but he didn't miss them at all.
The words on the tattoo hurt the most because they were true. Strangers, people who barely knew him, had gotten him exactly right. They saw through this carefully constructed cover he presented to the world right down to his shameful core. The things they would do for just a fraction of his family's wealth, Shouto couldn't even begin to fathom. Because he didn't have to. They could work their whole lives and probably never be granted anything close to what was handed to him from birth. Maybe they would have done something better with true love than manipulate it to their will. Maybe they would have done something more useful with unending riches than letting it disappear up their nose.
Rich boy. Spoiled. Entitled. They were right. He had it all.
And he was just pulling it down the circling drain with him.