‘How did it even get to this?’ He wondered, fully enjoying the hands running up his back and pulling harshly once they reached his hair.
It made his blood flow, it made him want to force the thinner body in front of him even further against the wall. His teeth were dragging along the pale skin of the other’s neck, leaving red lines, tooth impressions, the signs of territory being marked. The occassional chuckle made his blood boil, but he was too into this, having had held back for so long.
Kjell had lost to his own libido. Who cared about pride when he had this person whom he swore he hated against a wall, more than willing to take Kjell’s roughness. They parted for a moment for Asho to almost literally tear the shirt from Kjell’s body, the pathetic tatters easily being tossed aside as Kjell went back to Asho’s neck, licking, biting, kissing.
Oh, how badly Kjell wanted to take Asho’s lips, but that was his last shred of pride. He wanted to taste Asho, feel his tongue, but he had to fight it. He felt as though he’d never live it down.
Thoughts tossed aside, he slid his leg in between Asho’s, making sure that his knee roughly rubbed against Asho’s crotch. He was satisfied, feeling Asho’s fingertips dig into his scalp and shoulders, a soft gasp leaving his lips.
He wanted to fuck so bad, but at the same time, he wanted it to be painfully slow.
Tracing his lips along the curve of Asho’s neck, Kjell took an earlobe into his mouth and let out a tactful moan against Asho’s ear. The sound was followed by Kjell grinding his hips against Asho’s, making it clear how badly he needed to get off.
Kjell had the decency to help Asho out of his shirt, albeit roughly--he wanted to get his hands on that waist without anything blocking his hands. Hands that forced Asho against him once more, grinding their crotches together while Kjell made quick work of undoing the front of Asho's jeans. Jeans loose, Kjell's hands tugged once, letting them cling to slender hips, his fingertips sliding down Asho's navel, getting dangerously close and moving away again, to run across Asho's exposed chest. Kjell wouldn't dare let his eyes meet Asho's, his pride fighting to take back control.
Just how long has Kjell been teasing, bullshitting his way through this process, even with Asho's remarks, jokes, trying to play tricks to bother Kjell. He would never admit it, but Kjell would mentally agree that they were working. How could they not be? Here he was, throwing away his usually prideful self just to get off. Some pride remained, and Kjell allowed Asho to move away from the wall for a brief moment, only to get the command of "take the rest of your clothes off," from Kjell. To his surprise though, Asho obeyed, kicking the clothing aside so that it wouldn't get in the way. Kjell turned Asho around and forced him against the wall once more, letting Asho seek no real comfort.
It would be one way he kept his power, his control, or so Kjell thought, choosing to keep himself clothed for the most part. Despite his pants already sticking tighter, all Asho would get is Kjell's dick, nothing more. There were no cues, nothing to let Asho know what was coming. Kjell reached down, pulling on Asho's hips, aligning them with his own, where Asho finally felt skin against skin. The goosebumps came, and Asho felt the tickle of anticipation at the base of his neck.
Long ago, Kjell had decided, that if he ever were to have sex with Asho, it wouldn't be sentimental, it wouldn't be anything but sex, and it would be on his terms; as much as it could be. Another thing. He wasn't going to be easy on Asho either. He wasn't going to be kind, he wasn't going to help him adjust the way true lovers did. No, instead, he'd tease, pressing the tip of his cock against Asho's entrance, feeling it force its way in, only to pull back out and repeat. It was worth it to get the small gasps from Asho, feeling Asho's hips inch closer, wanting to take more of Kjell in whenever he teased. This was the thing about pride; Asho didn't want to beg for Kjell's dick, but that's exactly what Kjell wanted. It came across in body language, Kjell trying to resist givng Asho more, but ultimately sliding more of himself into Asho. It was torture for himself.
In the midst of fighting his own libido, Asho finally spoke, merely saying "The longer you wait, the longer you have to stay around me. You do know that, right?"
It was a doubleedged sword for Kjell, wanting to fuck Asho until he could barely walk, but wanting to make Asho beg for it. But Asho had a point. "You asked for it then," Kjell replied cooly, grabbing Asho's hips to brace him as he forced his entire length inside. He grit his teeth at the pain from Asho tightening around him, but he couldn't even begin to imagine how much he'd actually hurt Asho without any sort of preparation. The clenching alone told him it wasn't a comfortable fit. Kjell's eyes moved down Asho's back, eventually stopping to see just how buried he was into Asho. As if he couldn't get any harder. He looked up again, eyes now focusing on Asho's fingers, attempting to dig into a wall that wouldn't give. Moving his own hands from Asho's hips, Kjell took them by the wrist, forcing them both behind Asho's back and forcing Asho's chest flush against the wall. "I don't want you getting too comfortable," a smug tone, using one hand to hold Asho's hands in place, his free hand taking it's place on Asho's bare hip. "Just enjoy it, yeah?" Kjell whispered, leaning closer to rest his chin on Asho's shoulder, knowing full well that his breath would be felt by Asho.
Kjell pulled his hips back, slowly building up a rhythm of going in and out--but he didn't even come close to counting it as love making. He let a sigh leave him, pulling his hips back once more before he forced himself back in, burying himself to the hilt. A groan came from him this time, fully content at Asho's body clenching tightly. He wouldn't even address the fact that Asho was a total masochist; it was obvious which way hurt more, and if Asho wanted a nicer version of fucking, he would've relaxed his back ages ago.
It was almost a manic state he was in, wanting his dick to go deeper, hoping he ripped at Asho's insides. He was so attracted, but repulsed. He made himself sick, lifting his chin from Asho's shoulder to watch his dick constantly penetrate Asho with a speed that was a tad too fast to be considered 'comfortable'. He was thoroughly fucking Asho and thoroughly enjoying it, all while not having a single care in the world as to whether or not Asho was enjoying himself.
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