🐉Pulling Fangs🐉
Sen Hatsumi x Kanoh Agito
Warnings: NSFW, arguing, fighting, post-tournament, hate səx, rough səx, reality check, revenge fücking, gay bar, life sucks for Sen, coping, semi-public, top!Sen, bottom!Kanoh, and ngl I kinda cooked.
Hot smoke burned within Hatsumi's lungs, then exhaled chemicals into the damp night air. He'd been laid up and laid off, all thanks to the one man he strived to become. The Fang - Kanoh fucking Agito - has finally resigned? The anger in Hatsumi's chest burned more than the cigarettes. One loss, his only loss, and Kanoh retreats? It was pathetic, and yet everyone looked down on the Floating Cloud for leaving Kengan? Of course, he had people to fall back on and respect that would follow him well after his career. Hatsumi was not the same.
After paying for his drinks at a local bar in downtown Tokyo, the Floating Cloud did exactly what his name implied. He floated around the city, avoiding his apartment, his newest security guard job, and moped. He became an expert in self pity over recent months, craving Kengan fights and the lazy days in-between. Now, he had one day off, a regular wage, and duties that could only be quelled by drinking.
Just up the road was another bar, though this one catered to a specific group of people. It was a gay bar, appearing fairly new and covered in multicolor flags, welcoming outcasts into a place they could feel safe. Hatsumi sighed, checking what yen he still had in his pockets and decided that if he couldn't afford a drink, he could hit his last smoke and watch the patrons.
The interior was typical of most bars in Tokyo, aside from the drag posters, fairy lights, and chirpy music. Hatsumi took a seat at the bar and ordered a sparkling sake and nursed it like a stray kitten. The bartender was flirty, though tired, and Hatsumi knew that feeling all too well - trying to hold onto your personality quirks against the overwhelming exhaustion. His eyes traced the liquor shelves, finding their way over to a couple making out by the restrooms before settling on something he never thought he'd see.
There, seated near the end of the bar, was a hulking man with dark hair, sharp features, and the pale Skin of an ancient Chinese royal. Kanoh Agito was ten feet away from Hatsumi, making small talk with the bartender. Was he smiling? Since when did the Fang of Metsudo ever smile? And the laughter... the jokes he told tickled the bartender. Kanoh lived in Hatsumi's nightmares wearing the same catsuit from the Annihilation Tournament, not a leather jacket and loose fit jeans.
He had to get up and say something.
"Yo, Kanoh," came a familiar voice.
Agito peered over to see Hatsumi take the seat next to him.
"Sen Hatsumi," came that gravelly, deep voice. "It's been a while since I've seen you. I heard you got a job as security for the Prime Minister. I'm impressed with your accomplishment."
Hatsumi cleared his throat, "yeah, well, it's a job. It's a bit too easy, but it pays the bills."
"Your alcohol bills?" Kanoh said, sipping his whiskey.
That same anger from the previous bar began to boil in Hatsumi's stomach. "Nah, I got a life now, Kanoh. An apartment, a job, and I can do what I please now. Retirement never felt more promising."
Lies, all lies.
"I, too have an apartment, it's a studio with decent rent, but I will be touring the United States in a week, so I asked Omori if he would check on it every so often." Kanoh explained.
"Wait," Hatsumi paused, "you're leaving Japan?"
"Yes, that is what I said."
"For how long?"
"However long I wish. I'm going on a self-discovery type of journey. I've spent so much time training, eating, sleeping, and repeating the same ritual over and over again that I haven't had a chance to experience life," Kanoh reflected on his words, felt their impact, and continued. "I'm thirty-eight years old and I'm ready to start living. I'd suggest the same for you, Hatusmi."
"How the hell do you know what's good for me?"
"It's a suggestion. I can smell the liquor on your breath, the desperation in your bones. You're not taking defeat lightly."
Hatsumi grabbed the back of Kanoh's neck like a cat, dragging his head back to look the Cloud in the eyes. His anger was present, but still as lazy as the marrow in his bones.
"Who wouldn't? Answer me that! How do you think everyone else you defeated is taking their loss?"
Kanoh removed Hatusmi's hand gently, showing no fear or frustration. That very disposition put Hatsumi on edge.
"Okubo returned to MMA and is doing exceptionally well. Kaolan is thriving, serving Rama happily in Thailand. Kuroki is doing whatever it is that brings him satisfaction," Kanoh analyzed Hatsumi, noticing the bruising under his eyes. "Everyone appears to be thriving except you."
Hatusmi sat back in his chair, affect broken, mind unable to come up with a rebuttal that would wound the Fang. He was content with his life and that pissed him off.
"I haven't felt in control of my life for years. I couldn't become the Fang, nor could I defeat the Fang, and now I'm just a guy who does what he can to get by..."
Kanoh sighed, putting his drink down to fully face Hatsumi.
"What is it you need?"
Hatsumi blinked. His hands balled into fists. "I need to defeat you somehow."
"Hm," Kanoh nodded. "Would my intimate submission suffice?"
A pause left an awkward tension between them.
"Excuse me?"
"I am giving you consent to do as you please," Kanoh's voice lowered. "You can take whatever you need - my ass, my mouth, and I will willingly submit. Be as rough as you like, take your time, whatever is necessary to ease this sense of demoralization."
"Kanoh... what the fuck is wrong with you?"
"I've come to terms with my sexuality and I've been told I am improving in my ability to let go of my dominant tendencies. I wish to help you."
Hatsumi swallowed the lump in his throat, unsure how to respond. He wanted to destroy the Fang's will to live, his will to fight, not fuck the ego out of him. He peered around the bar, searching for watchful eyes and a quick exit, but the best one was out the front door where a party of five were ready to take on karaoke night. The Cloud sighed, feeling a sick residue cling to his chest; the desperation to prove himself.
"Fine, but it'll be in the bathroom," Hatsumi whispered. "You go in first, then when I open that door, I had better see you bent over the sink and ready for me. I won't be gentle with you."
Kanoh nodded in affirmation. "I don't expect you to be."
~*~
Five minutes passed after Kanoh left for the restroom, giving Hatsumi plenty of time to prepare himself, or flee from the scene. He stared at the rainbow painted door covered in stickers supporting gay rights and nearly crushed the knob with his nervous grip. Emotions swarmed his body in a fleet of unrecognizable feelings, and yet, he still managed to open the door. Inside, the lights glowed blue, pink, and purple, casting reflections over the bare ass that greeted him. Kanoh was bent over the sink, just as promised, ready and willing to take whoever came in the restroom.
Thankfully, it was Hatsumi and the undeniable brick being laid in his kakis.
“Fuck, Kanoh,” the Cloud hissed, clutching his cheeks. “You even shaved?”
Kanoh chuckled – a rare sound. “I always have. I don’t like the sensation of body hair against my suit.”
“Fair enough,” Hatusmi humored. “Are you prepped and ready?”
“Yes, I’ve had ample time. It still might hurt, but I am used to pain. Here,” the Fang handed him a bottle of clear liquid. “Use this, just to prevent injury on both sides.”
Hatsumi ignored the second half of his comment and wrangled himself from his trousers. The Floating Cloud was of decent size, seven inches of hard flesh that was cut to reveal a red head. It was odd, seeing himself so worked up over the man who made a fool of him; then again, he was about to make a fool of the Fang, even if no one knew except for the two of them.
Taking himself in hand, Hatsumi aligned himself with that puckered hole. It would be tight and Hatsumi would be sensitive. Kanoh might not have deserved that lubricant, but Hatsumi couldn’t fully insert himself unless he used it. So, with a thick layer of lube, he began the process of entering the Fang. Kanoh hissed at the stretch, nearly crushing the sides of the sink with his white-knuckled grip. Hatsumi cursed under his breath, feeling his cock become subject to the vice that was Kanoh’s walls. Seconds turned into minutes before Hatsumi could comfortably settle against the Fang’s buttocks, clicking into place with a firm slap.
They rested, breathed deeply, and adjusted accordingly before Hatsumi sunk a hand in Kanoh’s neatly slicked back hair, and yanked him backwards. He was flexible enough to fold into a half-moon as Hatsumi began to roughly fuck him. The Fang groaned loudly, cheeks clapping under Hatsumi’s heavy hips. The Cloud’s alcohol-stained voice hardened the veins in Kanoh’s shaft.
“You might not be a failure, Fang, but I guess being a slut is something I can tease you about.”
A single, hard thrust hit that vital point within Kanoh that sent his vision into the Milky Way.
Still, Hatsumi continued, “you gave your body to Metsudo, willing to fight for him, be maimed for that old man, and now you’re giving out your body for sex. Pretty shameful if you ask me. I bet you like it rough like this, made to be something you were never meant to be. The Fang of Metsudo? More like the Slut of Metsudo. What a great retirement title.”
“You’re one to talk,” Kanoh gasped, his head pressed to the bathroom mirror. “You’re always on the defensive, Hatsumi, never the offense. You can talk shit, but I have yet to see you own up to it. Now, are you going to make me come, or will that be another task you can’t complete?”
Hatsumi growled, his motions becoming erratic from the frustration of insult.
Peering past the Fang’s head, Hatsumi could see both of their expressions in the mirror. While the Cloud was working up a sweat, Kanoh appeared bored.
“You’re sloppy,” the Fang said. “Always have been and always will be.”
“Shut the fuck up!”
Hatsumi shoved Kanoh’s face into the mirror, nearly breaking the glass as his hips finally found a rhythm that punished the Fang’s hole. Skin slapped roughly against skin, causing the excess lubricant to splatter and leak down Kanoh’s legs. The Fang's muscular tree trunk legs were beginning to shake, his chest was heaving, and his cock was twitching. Hatsumi fucked the man without remorse for his body, or the patrons listening outside. His mind was focused for the first time in years. His body was working for one goal – to humiliate.
“Gonna come,” Kanoh wheezed, face still smooshed against the mirror.
“Heh, you always wanted the fight to be over with as soon as possible.”
The Fang went to grab himself when Hatsumi’s hand took over, jerking him with just enough force to cause rings of white to spew onto the tile floors. Kanoh came hard, body shaking more than any post-workout while Hatsumi continued his work. He felt his stomach muscles clench and fill the Fang with hot syrup that made hid insides scream. Finally, after years of internal battling, there was relief in defeat and a wave came over Hatsumi, causing him to fall back onto the toilet.
Spent and heaving, the fighters lounged on the restroom appliances, breathing in the scent of sweat and sex that filled the small space.
It was only when their senses returned that they could hear someone knocking on the door.
“Bar closes in ten, gentlemen,” it was the bartender.
Kanoh stood first, finding his footing on the sticky floors and rummaging for paper to clean himself with. Hatsumi stopped him, forcing the Fang to bend over the sink one more time so he could spread his cheeks and watch his fluids leak from that battered hole, enjoying the evidence of a small victory.
