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The basketball practice was winding down, the sharp squeaks of sneakers on the court echoing in the humid air. For Baku, the world had narrowed to a single, infuriating point.
It was Gotak. And some random guy from the team.
They were by the bleachers, laughing about something. The guy, tall and lanky, reached out and casually ruffled Gotak’s hair.
Gotak just grinned, swatting his hand away playfully.
A hot, sharp feeling, like a shard of glass, twisted in Baku’s gut.
This wasn’t the first time.
Lately, it felt like there was always some new person orbiting his Gotak. Someone who hadn't been there for years of shared secrets and silent understandings. Someone who didn't know that Gotak’s calm voice could talk Baku down from any ledge, or that Baku’s fists were always ready to fly for him.
The easy way Gotak smiled at them, the casual touches… it felt like a theft.
Each laugh was a piece of their world being chipped away and given to someone who hadn't earned it.
The random guy slung an arm around Gotak’s shoulders, pulling him in to say something close to his ear.
Gotak nodded, his smile easy and bright.
That was it.
Baku moved without thinking.
He cut across the court, his heavy footsteps a stark contrast to the fading squeaks around them. He didn't stop until he was looming over the two of them, his shadow falling across Gotak’s face.
The random guy looked up, his friendly expression faltering at the storm on Baku’s face.
“Baku? What’s up?” Gotak asked, his smile fading into confusion.
Baku ignored him. His eyes, dark and burning, were locked on the other boy.
“Get lost,” he said, his voice a low, dangerous rumble.
The guy, wisely, muttered a quick “See ya, Gotak,” and hurried away.
“What was that for?” Gotak demanded, his brow furrowed in annoyance. “We were just talking!”
Baku’s hand snapped out, his fingers wrapping like a vice around Gotak’s wrist. The contact was electric, a jolt that finally silenced him.
“You don’t talk to them like that,” Baku growled, pulling Gotak closer. The air crackled between them, thick with a tension that had been building for weeks. “You don’t let them touch you.”
Gotak tried to pull back, but Baku’s grip was iron. “You’re being crazy! Let go of me!”
For a long, charged moment, Baku held on, his chest heaving, the wild look in his eyes daring Gotak to challenge him further. But then, seeing the genuine shock and confusion on his best friend's face, the fight drained out of him as quickly as it had surged. He released Gotak’s wrist, leaving faint red marks behind.
He took a step back, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "...Whatever. Just forget it."
He turned and walked away, leaving Gotak standing alone and bewildered by the bleachers.
✵
For the next few days, a cold war simmered between them. Baku was sullen and withdrawn, while Gotak was frustrated, unable to understand the sudden outburst. He tried to talk about it, but Baku would just shut him down with a grunt.
The breaking point came a week later at a team party at someone’s house. The place was crowded, loud with music and the chatter of their teammates.
Baku was planted against a wall, nursing a drink and watching Gotak like a hawk from across the room.
He saw it all unfold in slow motion.
The same random guy from the bleachers—the one Baku had warned off—approached Gotak again.
He said something, and Gotak laughed.
Then, the guy did it.
He reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind Gotak’s ear, his fingers lingering for a moment too long against his skin.
And Gotak… Gotak let him.
He didn’t pull away. He didn't swat the hand aside. He just smiled, a slight, knowing curve of his lips, and looked up at the guy through his lashes.
It wasn't just tolerating the touch. It was accepting it. Encouraging it.
That single, silent gesture—Gotak accepting the touch, the intimate little smile—was a match thrown on a pool of gasoline in Baku’s mind. The possessiveness he’d felt before was a gentle simmer compared to the volcanic rage that erupted in him now.
A red haze descended over his vision. The noise of the party faded into a dull roar. He moved, a force of pure, single-minded intent cutting through the crowd.
He didn't say a word to the other boy.
He didn't even look at him.
His focus was entirely on Gotak.
In one fluid, powerful motion, Baku’s hand clamped around Gotak’s bicep.
"Hey—!" the other guy started, but he was ignored.
Baku pulled, hard. Gotak was ripped from the conversation, stumbling as Baku began to drag him through the packed room.
"Baku! What are you doing? Let go!" Gotak demanded, his voice a sharp hiss of embarrassment and anger. He tried to dig his heels in, but it was useless against Baku's raw strength.
Baku didn't answer. His jaw was clenched so tight it ached. He shouldered people aside, his expression a silent, dangerous warning that made anyone about to complain quickly change their mind. He was a storm cloud moving through the party, and Gotak was caught in his violent updraft.
He didn't stop until he had hauled Gotak out the front door, the cool night air hitting them like a slap after the stuffy heat of the house. He dragged him around the side of the building, into the dark, empty space between the house and a tall fence, finally shoving him back against the rough brick wall.
The relative silence was deafening, broken only by their ragged breathing.
"Are you out of your mind?" Gotak yelled, shoving at Baku's chest, but Baku didn't budge an inch. He just crowded in closer, caging Gotak in, his hands slamming against the wall on either side of Gotak's head.
"No, you are!" Baku roared back, his voice raw. He surged forward, his hand snapping up to roughly grab Gotak's jaw, forcing his head back against the brick wall. "You smile at him like that? You let him touch you like that? After what I said? Do you think this is a game?"
Gotak winced, his hands coming up to grip Baku's wrist, trying to pry the iron grip from his face. "Get off me! What is wrong with you?!"
"What's wrong with me?" Baku snarled, leaning in so close their noses almost touched, his breath hot against Gotak's skin. His other hand pressed hard against Gotak's shoulder, pinning him firmly to the wall. "I'm not the one parading myself around for anyone who looks my way. I'm not the one pretending I don't know what this is about."
"Let me go, you bastard!" Gotak struggled, but Baku's hold was unyielding.
"Tell me to stop," Baku demanded, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous whisper. His thumb stroked almost mockingly over Gotak's cheekbone, a cruel contrast to the bruising grip on his jaw. "Tell me you want me to let you go so you can run back to him. Go on. Say it."
He stared into Gotak's eyes, his own burning with a mix of fury and desperate need, waiting for an answer, his entire body tensed like a spring. The air crackled, thick with the unspoken thing that had finally, violently, exploded between them.
Gotak’s struggles stilled. The fight seemed to drain out of him, replaced by a shaky, breathless defiance. He met Baku’s burning gaze, his own eyes wide and glistening in the dim light.
"I'm not parading myself around," he bit out, his voice trembling. "You're the one who's been acting like a jealous dog for weeks, and now you're treating me like one of your opponents you can just... just pin down."
Baku’s grip on his jaw tightened infinitesimally.
"A jealous dog?" he repeated, the words a low, dangerous rumble. "You think this is just jealousy? You're that blind?" He leaned in closer, his lips nearly brushing Gotak's as he spoke. "He looked at you. He touched you. And you let him. You think I didn't see that little smile? You think I didn't see you encourage him?"
"I was just being polite!" Gotak insisted, but his protest was weak, swallowed by the overwhelming presence of the boy pinning him.
"Don't lie to me," Baku whispered, his voice cracking with a raw, painful edge. "Not you. Never you." The anger seemed to fracture, revealing the sheer, terrifying vulnerability beneath. "Do you have any idea what it does to me? Seeing you with him? Seeing you act like I'm not even here? You think I'm stupid? I know you, Gotak. I know what your 'polite' looks like. That wasn't it." He shoved Gotak's head back harder against the brick. "That was an invitation."
"It wasn't!" Gotak shot back, his own anger rising to meet Baku's. "You're seeing what you want to see! You're inventing things in your head because you've decided to lose your mind!"
That was the wrong thing to say.
A dark, cold mask slid over Baku's features. The raw emotion was gone, replaced by something more terrifying: a calm, focused intent.
"Inventing things?" Baku's voice dropped to a deadly whisper. "Okay. Let's see."
In one brutal, unyielding motion, he crushed his lips against Gotak's. It wasn't a kiss of passion, but of punishment. It was meant to dominate, to silence, to brand. He kissed him with all the frustration and rage of the past weeks, a physical manifestation of his claim. When he finally pulled back, both of them were breathless.
"Was that in my head?" Baku growled, his chest heaving.
Before Gotak could even process a response, Baku dove back in. This time, his teeth caught Gotak's lower lip, a sharp, possessive bite that was more warning than caress. His hands left the wall, one tangling tightly in Gotak's hair to hold him still, the other arm locking like a steel bar across his back, eliminating any space between them.
This was the punishment for every smile, every laugh, every touch Gotak had given to someone else. Baku was taking it all back, by force, determined to erase the memory of anyone else completely from Gotak's mind, leaving only the scorching imprint of his own possession in its place.
Gotak gasped against his mouth, a sound of shock and pain that was swallowed by Baku's punishing kiss. He brought his hands up, not to push him away this time, but to claw at the arm across his back, his fingers scrambling for purchase against the unyielding muscle.
Baku only tightened his hold, his grip in Gotak's hair bordering on painful. He was a cage of pure, single-minded intent. He broke the kiss, but only to trail his mouth along Gotak's jaw, his breath a hot, ragged gust against the damp skin of his throat.
"You let him touch you?" he muttered, his voice a low, guttural rasp against Gotak's pulse point before he pressed a harsh, open-mouthed kiss to the spot.
Gotak shuddered, a broken sound escaping his lips. "Baku... stop..."
"Stop?" Baku growled, the word a hot, vicious promise against his skin. "You don't get to tell me to stop now. Not after you've been driving me insane for weeks.” His thumb brushed roughly over Gotak's already-swollen bottom lip. "This is mine. You are mine. And I'm done being polite about it."
He crushed their mouths together again, a searing, punishing kiss that was all teeth and desperate, furious need. It was a claiming. An erasure of every other person who had ever dared to look at what belonged to him.
Gotak’s mind was a whirlwind of protest and a terrifying, coiling heat. He shoved at Baku’s shoulders, a useless, weak motion against that immovable force.
Baku tore his mouth away with a snarl, leaving Gotak gasping. Before he could recover, a rough hand fisted in his hair and yanked him forward—down onto his knees. The impact sent a jolt through his bones, but Baku didn’t give him time to process it.
“Open,” he commanded, voice dark with possession. His free hand undid his pants, freeing his cock—already hard, flushed, and leaking against his stomach.
Gotak’s breath hitched. He barely had time to register the command before Baku shoved his head forward, forcing his lips around the thick length. There was no finesse, no mercy—just the brutal slide of Baku’s cock past his lips, filling his mouth until his jaw ached.
“That’s it,” Baku growled, tightening his grip in Gotak’s hair. “Take it.”
And then he moved. Harsh, relentless thrusts that stole Gotak’s air, fucking into his mouth like he was nothing more than a hole to be used. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as he gagged, saliva dripping down his chin, but Baku didn’t stop.
“You wanted this,” Baku snarled, hips snapping forward again. “Every time you looked at them, every time you fucking teased me, this is what you were asking for.”
Gotak whimpered around him, hands scrabbling weakly at Baku’s thighs, but there was no escape. Only the suffocating heat of Baku’s cock driving deeper, the salt-bitter taste of him coating Gotak’s tongue.
Baku groaned, fingers tightening almost painfully. “Fuck. So good for me.”
The praise sent an unwanted shiver through Gotak—a traitorous spark of pleasure beneath the humiliation. And that terrified him most of all.
Baku didn’t let up, his thrusts growing even more relentless as he watched Gotak struggle to take him. But then—his gaze flicked down, catching the way Gotak’s fists were clenched white-knuckled over his own cock through his pants. A dark, predatory grin curled his lips.
“Pathetic,” Baku sneered, dragging Gotak’s head back just enough to make him whimper around his cock. “Getting off on this? On being used like this?”
He ground his foot down against Gotak’s trapped erection, reveling in the choked moan it ripped from him.
Gotak’s hips jerked involuntarily, seeking friction even as shame burned through him. Baku laughed, low and cruel, pressing harder with his foot.
“You really are desperate, aren’t you?” He punctuated the taunt with another rough thrust into Gotak’s mouth. “Go on then. Rub yourself like the needy little slut you are.”
Tears streaked Gotak’s cheeks as he obeyed, his own touch frantic and humiliating under Baku’s mocking gaze. Every press of Baku’s foot sent sparks of twisted pleasure through him, his body betraying him completely.
Baku suddenly stilled, pulling Gotak’s head back with a sharp tug. His cock slid free with a wet pop, leaving Gotak gasping and trembling.
“Mouth’s not enough,” he growled, eyes burning with hunger.
In one swift motion, he hauled Gotak up by the arms and slammed him chest-first against the wall near a window. The impact knocked the air from Gotak’s lungs, his cheek pressed to the vold bricks as Baku’s body pinned him in place.
Baku’s hands moved with ruthless efficiency, tearing at Gotak’s pants with a growl of impatience. The fabric was no match for his desperation, buttons scattering as he yanked them open, exposing Gotak’s trembling thighs.
“No more hiding,” Baku snarled, his voice low and dangerous. He grabbed the waistband and shoved the pants down, leaving Gotak bare and vulnerable against the wall. The cool air hit his heated skin, sending a shiver through him that had nothing to do with the temperature.
Gotak gasped, his hands instinctively moving to cover himself, but Baku caught his wrists in a commanding grip, pinning them above his head. “Don’t,” he warned, his breath hot against Gotak’s ear. “You don’t get to hide from me. Not anymore.”
Baku’s eyes raked over Gotak’s exposed body, dark with hunger and possessive satisfaction. His thumb brushed roughly over Gotak’s hip bone, teasing the sensitive flesh as he leaned in, lips grazing the shell of his ear. “Look at you,” he murmured, voice dripping with dark amusement. “Already trembling for me. Pathetic.”
Gotak’s breath hitched, shame and arousal warring within him as Baku’s touch ignited a fire that burned through his veins.
Baku smirked, his free hand sliding down Gotak’s stomach to grip him roughly, making him cry out.
"All of you is mine." he growled, teeth scraping over Gotak's throat.
Baku didn’t waste a second. With a predatory grin, he yanked Gotak’s briefs down with a harsh tug, the material stretching before finally giving way. Gotak gasped, his cock springing free, already hard and leaking against his stomach despite the humiliation burning through him.
“Look at you,” Baku growled, his voice dripping with dark amusement as he pressed his own erection against Gotak’s thigh. “Still so fucking needy.”
He rocked his hips forward, the thick length of his cock grinding against Gotak’s sensitive skin, smearing precum in a hot, sticky mess. Gotak whimpered, his body betraying him once again as his hips jerked involuntarily, seeking more of that friction.
Baku’s laugh was low and cruel as he pinned Gotak’s wrists above his head with one hand, using the other to guide his cock between Gotak’s thighs. The warm press of flesh against flesh made Gotak’s breath hitch, his cock twitching pathetically as Baku began to move.
“You feel that?” Baku snarled, his thrusts slow and deliberate, each one dragging his cock against Gotak’s oversensitive skin. “This is what you do to me. Every fucking time you look at me, every time you try to pretend you don’t want me—this is what happens.”
“You’re mine,” Baku hissed, his breath hot against Gotak’s ear as he fucked between his thighs with growing intensity. “Mine to use, mine to ruin. And you love it.”
Gotak’s heart pounded in his chest as the reality of their situation crashed over him. His breath hitched as he imagined someone passing by, seeing their silhouettes pressed together in the dim light.
“B-Baku,” he gasped, his voice trembling with panic. “Someone could see us.” His hands flailed weakly against Baku’s chest, though he couldn’t bring himself to push him away completely.
Baku’s lips curled into a dark smirk, his eyes glinting with predatory amusement. “Let them,” he growled, leaning in to nip at Gotak’s earlobe. “Let them all see who you belong to.”
But the thought of being exposed like this—vulnerable, humiliated—sent a fresh wave of terror through Gotak. Tears welled in his eyes as he shook his head frantically.
“Please,” he begged, his voice barely above a whisper. “Not here. Not like this.”
Baku let out a low, frustrated sigh, his grip on Gotak’s arms tightening briefly before he finally relented.
“Fine,” he growled, though the dark hunger in his eyes never wavered.
He released Gotak with a rough shove, hands moving to tuck himself back into his pants with quick, impatient motions.
Gotak stumbled back, his legs trembling as he struggled to compose himself. His hands fumbled with his own clothing, cheeks burning with humiliation as he tried to ignore the heat still pooling low in his stomach.
Baku grabbed him by the arm before he could protest, dragging him toward the car parked near the edge of the property. His grip was firm, unyielding, a silent reminder that Gotak had no say in what came next. The brisk night air did little to cool the fire raging between them, and Gotak’s heart pounded in his chest with every step.
The car door wrenched open with a metallic groan before Gotak was shoved inside, his back hitting the leather seat with a gasp. Baku climbed in after him, crowding him against the door with predatory intent.
“Now,” Baku growled, yanking Gotak’s pants down in one rough pull, “no one can see.”
Gotak barely had time to register the cool air against his exposed skin before Baku’s hand wrapped around his cock, stroking him with ruthless efficiency. His hips jerked helplessly into the touch as Baku leaned in, teeth scraping over his throat.
“Still trying to pretend you don’t want this?” Baku mocked, twisting his wrist just right to wring a choked moan from Gotak’s lips.
The car windows fogged with their heated breaths, sealing them in their own private world of shame and desire. Outside, the distant murmur of voices only made the moment more illicit—more theirs.
Baku’s grip tightened around Gotak’s cock, slowing his strokes to a maddening tease.
“You don’t get to come until I say so.”
Gotak whimpered, nails digging into the leather seat as Baku edged him ruthlessly—pulling him to the brink only to deny him over and over. His thighs trembled, sweat slicking his skin as frustration coiled hot in his gut.
“P-please,” he gasped, voice wrecked.
Baku smirked, leaning in to bite at his earlobe.
“Begging already? Pathetic.” He dragged his thumb over the leaking tip, smearing precum down the shaft in a slow, torturous circle. “But I like hearing it.”
With a sudden shift, Baku pinned his wrists above his head with one hand while the other continued its torment. His knee pressed between Gotak’s thighs, keeping them spread wide—exposed and vulnerable.
“Look at you,” Baku sneered, watching tears well in Gotak’s eyes as he twisted his grip just right. “So fucking desperate for me.”
Gotak arched off the seat with a choked cry when Baku swiped a thumb over his slit again—so close, yet never enough. His body burned with need, every nerve alight under Baku’s cruel control.
“I could keep you like this for hours,” Baku mused, voice dark with amusement. “Writhing. Begging. Mine.”
The word sent a shudder through Gotak—equal parts terror and twisted desire. He hated how good it felt to be at Baku’s mercy. Hated how much he wanted it.
Baku leaned down, lips brushing Gotak’s ear as he finally—finally—tightened his grip and stroked him hard.
“Now.”
Gotak came with a broken sob, spilling over Baku’s fist as pleasure tore through him like lightning.
Baku held him through it, whispering filthy praise against his skin.
“Good boy.”
Before Gotak could even catch his breath, Baku was already reaching into the glove compartment with a dark chuckle. The slick sound of a cap popping open made Gotak’s stomach clench in anticipation—or dread. He barely had time to process before cold lube dripped between his cheeks, making him gasp.
“N-no—” Gotak stammered, but Baku silenced him with a rough kiss as one thick finger pressed against his entrance.
The intrusion was sudden, unforgiving, stretching him open with ruthless efficiency. Gotak arched off the seat with a choked cry, fingers scrambling for purchase against the leather as Baku worked him open.
“So tight,” Baku growled, adding a second finger without warning.
The burn was sharp, overwhelming, but beneath it lurked a pleasure so deep it made Gotak’s toes curl. By the time a third finger joined, scissoring him wide, Gotak was sobbing—half from overstimulation, half from the maddening drag against his prostate with every twist of Baku’s wrist.
“Look at you,” Baku sneered, watching tears streak down Gotak’s flushed face. “Taking my fingers like you were made for it.” He crooked them just right, wrenching a broken moan from Gotak’s throat as pleasure spiked white-hot through his veins.
Gotak’s hips jerked helplessly, torn between pushing back onto Baku’s hand and fleeing the unbearable intensity. But Baku held him firm, fingers pistoning in and out with brutal precision until Gotak was a writhing, whimpering mess—overwhelmed by sensation, by shame, by the way his body betrayed him with every ragged cry.
Baku withdrew his fingers with a cruel smirk, leaving Gotak clenching around nothing, his body trembling with the sudden emptiness.
“Ready for me now, aren’t you?” he growled, lining up his cock in one rough motion.
There was no warning.
No mercy.
Just the brutal, splitting stretch as Baku sheathed himself to the hilt in one punishing thrust. Gotak screamed, back arching off the seat, tears spilling hot down his cheeks as he was filled to the breaking point.
Baku didn’t give him time to adjust. He pulled out almost entirely before slamming back in, setting a ruthless pace that had Gotak sobbing with every snap of his hips. The car rocked with the force of it, leather creaking beneath them, the windows fogged with their shared heat.
“Tighter than I fucking imagined,” Baku snarled. “You feel that? How deep I am inside you?” He punctuated the words with a particularly vicious thrust, knocking another broken cry from Gotak’s lips.
Gotak could only whimper, his body strung tight between pleasure and pain, his cock leaking untouched against his stomach. Baku’s grip on his hip was bruising, fingers digging in hard enough to leave marks as he fucked into him with relentless, animalistic hunger.
“Look at you,” Baku taunted, dragging his tongue over Gotak’s tear-streaked cheek. “Crying like a whore. Bet you love this, don’t you?”
He angled his hips just right, hitting that spot inside him that made Gotak’s vision whiten, his toes curling in helpless pleasure.
Gotak’s nails scraped uselessly against the seat, his entire body trembling as Baku drove him closer and closer to the edge again.
“P-please—” he choked out, but he didn’t even know what he was begging for anymore.
Baku laughed darkly, his thrusts growing even more erratic. “That’s it. Fall apart for me.”
Gotak came with a shattered cry, his cock pulsing untouched between them as pleasure wracked his oversensitive body. But Baku didn’t stop—didn’t even slow. His thrusts grew deeper, more punishing, as he chased his own release, uncaring of Gotak’s whimpered protests.
“T-too much—” Gotak sobbed, his body trembling from overstimulation, every nerve alight with fire. But Baku only snarled, gripping his hips tighter, fucking into him with brutal precision.
“You’ll take it,” Baku growled, his voice rough with lust. “You’ll take everything I give you.”
Gotak’s vision blurred as pleasure and pain twisted together, his body wrung out yet still responding to Baku’s relentless pace. A broken moan tore from his throat when Baku’s cock dragged against his prostate again, sending sparks of white-hot sensation through his spent body.
Baku’s breath came in ragged bursts, his rhythm faltering as he neared the edge. “Fuck—going to fill you up,” he gritted out, his fingers digging into Gotak’s flesh hard enough to bruise.
With one final, brutal thrust, Baku buried himself to the hilt, his groan muffled against Gotak’s shoulder as he spilled inside him. Gotak whimpered at the heat flooding him, his oversensitive body clenching helplessly around Baku’s cock.
For a moment, there was only the sound of their harsh breathing, the car still rocking faintly from the force of Baku’s release. Then, with a dark chuckle, Baku pulled out slowly, watching Gotak shudder at the loss.
Gotak gasped as warmth spilled out of him in thick drops—Baku's release marking him inside and out. His body trembled violently from overstimulation, every twitch sending another trickle of cum onto the leather seat beneath him.
Baku smirked as he watched the evidence of their coupling drip obscenely from Gotak's flushed hole.
"Look at that," he murmured darkly, dragging two fingers through the mess before pressing them against Gotak's parted lips. "Taste."
Gotak whimpered but obediently opened his mouth, letting Baku smear the bitter-salt mix across his tongue. Shame burned through him at how easily he submitted—how good it still tasted despite everything.
Baku chuckled low in his throat as he pulled his fingers free with a wet pop.
"Filthy thing," he taunted, giving Gotak's spent cock a rough squeeze just to watch him jerk in oversensitive agony. "Bet you'd let me do it all over again right now."
Gotak's breath hitched, because it was true. Even now, wrecked and shaking beneath Baku's merciless hands—he ached for more.
Baku leaned in close enough for their lips to brush as he whispered: "Mine."