Adrian braced himself, lifting the fork with effort. His hand trembled, muscles protesting every inch until— clatter. The utensil slipped and rang against the porcelain plate.
Heat rushed up his neck, his jaw tight with humiliation.
"Damn…"
He muttered under his breath, lips pressed into a thin line.
Yu, standing at his bedside with arms lightly crossed, gave a little sigh—half exasperated, half indulgent. He plucked the fork up with easy grace and took a seat beside Adrian on the bed.
"So first I cook, then I clean up after you…"
Yu teased, his hazel eyes glimmering with mock-annoyance as he scooped up a bite of egg. He leaned closer, holding the fork out with a mischievous smile.
"And now I've got to feed you too? Adrian, you really have become my baby."
Adrian froze, struck by the words. His heart thumped so hard it nearly drowned out the embarrassment. His cheeks reddened, but this time it wasn't shame—it was something warmer, more dangerous.
"…I don't mind being your baby…"
He murmured, low and rough, the second half slipping out almost to himself.
"If it means you'll fuss over me like this."
Yu, focused on balancing the fork without spilling, didn't catch the muttered confession. He leaned in, carefully feeding Adrian with the kind of practiced ease that made the act look second-nature.
Adrian took the bite, his throat working as he swallowed, his eyes locked on Yu's calm, gentle expression. The domesticity of it, the tenderness, wrapped around him tighter than any embrace.
Yu chuckled softly as he dipped the fork again, thinking idly to himself, feeding Adrian is far easier than when Taro and Kenji were just a year old. No fussing, no mess. Just one oversized man who can't hold a fork.
The comparison made his heart ache, though he masked it with another teasing hum as he raised the fork for Adrian once more.
Adrian, meanwhile, let himself bask in the moment, committing it to memory:
Yu's voice, his care, his nearness. Every second fed the possessive hunger coiling tighter inside him.
Yu kept the fork moving, steady and unhurried. Each bite was offered with a teasing remark or gentle hum, Adrian flushing with each pass. He hated feeling weak, but Yu's easy patience, the way his eyes softened as if this was no trouble at all, made it feel less humiliating and more… tender.
The last bite disappeared, Adrian swallowing around the lump in his throat as Yu tapped the fork against the edge of the plate with a satisfied clink.
"There."
Yu said lightly, setting the empty tray aside.
"All finished. See? Not so hard when you behave."
Adrian managed a faint smirk, but his gaze stayed fixed on Yu. He wanted to say more, to reach for him again, but his body protested too fiercely. So instead, he sank back into the pillows, exhaustion sweeping in like a tide.
Yu tugged the covers higher, patting them into place before slipping from the room with the tray balanced neatly in his hands.
Back in the kitchen, the air was cooler, quieter. Yu set the bed tray down, rinsed the plates in the sink, and then went to the table where his own plate still waited.
He slid into his chair, picking up his fork and finishing the now-cool breakfast without complaint. It wasn't as warm, but he ate calmly, chewing in silence, letting the routine center him.
Afterwards, he cleaned his own dishes and tidied the table, humming under his breath, already shifting gears in his head. His bag sat ready by the door, notebooks stacked neatly inside. He smoothed his long brown hair back, checked the time, and with a soft sigh—part weary, part determined—he went to grab his jacket and shoes.
Classes awaited, and Yu slipped easily back into his rhythm:
A student, a caretaker, a man trying to hold his life together while everything around him grew more tangled.
---
The morning air was cool, crisp enough to nip at Yu's cheeks as he stepped out the door, bag slung loosely over his shoulder. The quiet rhythm of his shoes against the pavement grounded him, but his thoughts were anything but steady.
Adrian's flushed, weakened face lingered in his mind. The way he'd whispered gratitude with every bite, how he hadn't minded being treated like a baby so long as it was Yu doing the fussing. The memory tugged at Yu's chest, warm and heavy, even as DK01's cool voice reminded him to tread carefully—Adrian was already slipping too far, too deep.
Then there was Callen. Brash, greedy Callen, who still didn't realize how close he'd come to being drained dry too. The image of his smug grin, his promise of "next time," made Yu sigh aloud as he walked. His instincts whispered that Callen's vitality, salted with recklessness, would taste even sweeter the second round. Dangerous. Addictive.
But heavier still was the small twist in his stomach. He placed a hand absently against his flat belly through his jacket, almost protective without meaning to. The system's alert still echoed in his mind:
Pregnant. A baby. His baby. Theo's child.
He should've felt only dread—wrong time, wrong place, mission compromised—but instead his heart throbbed with something softer. Memories of Taro and Kenji bubbled up unbidden, their baby giggles, the way their small hands had reached out and clung to him. His throat tightened, but the memories blurred at the edges—faces undistorted unlike his memories of Taichi—however there was still that hollow emptiness, no lingering emotions attached. His breath hitched. He pressed a little harder to his stomach and kept walking.
'Focus, Yu…'
He scolded himself.
'There was still the mission. Still Theo, the Tragic Target, his soul scrap waiting. My lord is waiting…'
He couldn't afford to lose his way.
By the time he reached campus, Yu had tucked the thoughts into the back of his mind, layering on the mask of a student. He slipped into the classroom, sliding into his usual seat, notebook open.
The professor droned on about garment construction, proper seams for different fabrics, the value of precision in tailoring. Yu's pen moved, neat notes filling the margins, but his eyes glazed more often than not.
Half his focus was on the words—bias cuts, blind hems, overlocking edges. The other half drifted. To the baby he'd have to hide. To Paris and the study-abroad escape plan. To Theo's furious kiss, Callen's grasping hands, Adrian's quiet devotion.
He shook his head and tried to fix his gaze on the slides projected at the front of the room, but the blur of threads and stitches only tangled with the threads of his own life. He hummed softly under his breath, a French tune that had snuck its way into his head when looking up videos to learn more of the language, almost mocking his own scattered focus.
The girl beside him gave him a curious glance, and Yu ducked his head, jotting down another line of notes as though nothing were wrong.
Yu's pen scratched idly across the page, his handwriting neat but mechanical. He barely registered the professor's voice until it sharpened, slicing through the haze like chalk screeching across a board.
"There has been a change to the study-abroad program for next semester…"
The professor announced, his tone formal, tinged with regret.
"Due to limited funds, we will only be able to send a select few students to France. Interest has far exceeded expectations, so we've added an additional assignment to the syllabus."
Yu's head jerked up, pulse stuttering.
The professor clicked to a new slide:
Mini Runway Presentation.
"You will each design, construct, and showcase one complete look. A panel of judges—myself and another faculty member—will decide which students will be accepted for the program. I know this is sudden, but unfortunately, we have no choice. I apologize for the inconvenience."
The classroom filled with murmurs, whispers of excitement, groans of stress. Yu's pen slipped from his fingers and clattered against the desk. His stomach dropped as if he'd swallowed stones.
'No… no, no, no!'
His one lifeline, his escape hatch, suddenly dangling by the thinnest thread.
[Host, I detect elevated cortisol. Heightened stress levels are dangerous for fetal development.]
Yu clenched his jaw as DK01's metallic voice echoed in his skull.
'Yeah, I'm fucking stressed!'
He snapped inwardly, fingers digging into his notebook's edge until the paper crumpled.
'My one plan—my one chance to escape, to hide this pregnancy—it's dangling in front of me like bait. And I haven't even made headway with Theo, nor cemented Joy and Izan's relationship enough!'
[Host, I hate to say it but… this is the direct consequence of the distractions I warned you about. Engaging physically with secondary parties has divided your focus, resulting in—]
"Shut up!"
Yu hissed under his breath, drawing a curious glance from a classmate beside him. He ducked his head, pretending to fuss with his notebook, but inside his chest a storm was raging.
His heart pounded, his throat tight. He could almost feel the baby flutter like a fragile secret he couldn't protect, not like this. His escape plan was unraveling before it even began.
When the professor finally dismissed them, Yu didn't wait to gather his thoughts. He shoved his books into his bag, nearly tearing the zipper in his haste, and stormed out of the classroom.
The hallway buzzed with students chattering about fabrics, designs, runway themes, but Yu barely heard them. He stalked down the corridor, his boots striking sharp against the tiles, his mind a vicious snarl of panic, frustration, and the bitter edge of DK01's retort still ringing in his ears.
The air outside was cool, but it did nothing to calm the inferno boiling in Yu's chest. He stormed down the steps of the building, his bag slung carelessly over one shoulder, his boots hitting the pavement with sharp, clipped sounds. His breath came fast, sharp little bursts as though he'd sprinted, but it was all the weight of panic and anger chewing at his insides.
His phone pinged. Yu yanked it out of his bag, thumb swiping with more force than necessary.
> Updated Syllabus Posted.
He scanned quickly, his eyes catching the line that mattered:
> ...Runway Project Due: End of the Month.
Yu's chest tightened. It said "end of month" but that's in two weeks. That gave everyone two weeks to prepare, but for him? He had may
be two weeks—three at best—before winter sweaters could no longer disguise the truth swelling inside him. Two weeks to design, cut, stitch, and polish something flawless enough to beat his ambitious, competitive classmates.
His hand trembled around the phone. Stress twisted into anger, a bitter lump stuck at the base of his throat.
[Host, I detect your heightened emotional spikes may be the result of hormonal fluctuations. I recommend—]
"Shut the fuck up."
Yu hissed it aloud this time, earning a startled glance from a student passing by. He shoved his phone back into his pocket with such force it jolted.
[…A-Acknowledged.]
Even without a body, DK01 recoiled. Yu could feel it like a shadow stepping back, wisely choosing silence.
Yu dragged a hand down his face, exhaling sharp through his nose, when—
"Yu!"
The sound of his name froze him.
Theo.
Yu's head snapped up, heart stuttering painfully in his chest. Theo stood across the campus walkway, tall, put together in a fitted button-down with sleeves rolled to the forearms. His presence filled the space like a force of nature, those piercing blue eyes fixed only on Yu.
Theo moved quickly, closing the gap with long strides, relief and hunger warring on his face.
"I've been wanting to see you…"
He said, voice low, threaded with intensity.
"I think maybe… you blocked my number by mistake? It-It's still blocked…plus with work, classes—they've been in the way. But now…"
His gaze softened, almost tender.
"Now I've got you."
Yu's stomach twisted. Of all the times.
He was still vibrating with stress and fury, DK01's silence heavy in his head, the runway assignment looming like a guillotine—and now here Theo was, unknowingly stepping into the storm at its peak.
Theo reached for him the way a man drowning reached for air—intent, single-minded. His broad shoulders cut the distance like nothing else in the world mattered but Yu standing there, flushed and storm-taut.
Yu's first instinct was to recoil. His nerves still burned raw from the syllabus news, his chest tight with panic, his mind spiraling with thoughts of deadlines and pregnancy and everything else piling too fast.
But then that other part of him stirred—the one that had begun to wake more and more often. That deep, honeyed pull in his bones, the whisper of instinct urging him.
Take him. Feed.
Theo's arm brushed close, bare where the sleeves were rolled. Yu let his gaze trace it, let his lips curve into a teasing smirk as if the storm inside him wasn't ready to break. His hand slid forward—slow, deliberate—fingers grazing the line of Theo's forearm, feather-light but electric.
Theo froze, his breath sharp.
Yu tilted his hip forward, letting it brush suggestively against Theo's as he leaned closer, his hazel eyes softening into a half-lidded glow that shimmered faintly red in the daylight, too subtle to be noticed, but no less dangerous.
His voice dropped, low and velvety, the tension in his chest bleeding into allure.
"I'm sorry, I'll fix that little mistake. Actually, I wanted to meet with you too…"
Yu's lips nearly brushed Theo's ear as he pulled him down lower and whispered.
"But maybe we should speak somewhere more… privately."
Theo's pulse spiked under Yu's touch. His jaw flexed, hunger flashing in his blue eyes. He didn't even hesitate—just nodded once, tightly, as if the agreement cost him control he barely had.
The walk across campus was a silent battlefield.
Theo kept close, his shoulder brushing Yu's every few steps, his hand flexing like he wanted to claim Yu's wrist but didn't dare—not here, not where the hallway buzzed with students carrying notebooks and coffee cups. His posture screamed restraint, but his eyes, darkened with hunger, told another story.
Yu kept his chin angled just slightly up, lips curled in a half-smirk that barely hid the snarl beneath. Each step sent a throb of irritation through him, each sidelong glance at Theo's jawline or the way his shirt pulled across his chest only fanned his inner fire higher. His hazel eyes burned faintly again, his thighs clenching with the thought of taking, of feeding, of punishing.
[Don't forget yourself, Yu.]
DK01's voice cut in, clipped and dry.
[This is the Tragic Target. The main thread. You can't burn him out the way you nearly did with the others. Focus. Control.]
Yu's lips twitched, almost into a scoff. He spat inwardly back, sharp as glass.
'He's the one who got me pregnant. He put this mess in me, so maybe he deserves it. Maybe I should take and take until I feel better.'
[It take two to make a baby, Yu. And while rearranging the order isn't fatal…]
DK01 conceded after a long pause, its tone edged but not panicked.
[Draining the Tragic Target too far? That ends the mission and your child both. You wouldn't like the consequence.]
Yu inwardly rolled his eyes, tightening his fingers into fists at his side. His body buzzed with hunger, with hormones, with the sharp ache in his belly that whispered of cum and feeding. The stress of the runway assignment, the memories locked from him, the weight of every tangled desire—it all coiled into one singular focus:
Theo.
Theo, who walked beside him like he was trying not to pounce in front of everyone.
Theo, who was about to take him somewhere private.
Yu's smirk sharpened into something dangerous.
'Good. Fuck him.'
Theo's hand finally found his elbow, the touch possessive but careful as he steered Yu around a corner and down a quieter hall. His pace quickened, urgency in the way his shoes clicked against the tile until they reached a polished wooden door with a brass placard:
Reserved Meeting Room.
Theo swiped a keycard from his pocket, the lock giving a muted click. He didn't even look around—just opened the door, ushered Yu inside, and shut it firmly behind them.
The room was dimmer, cleaner, with a long conference table and neat leather chairs. Empty. Silent.
Theo turned, his back pressed against the door, eyes locked on Yu.
The trap had sprung.
The door had barely shut before Theo seized him.
His lips crashed onto Yu's in a kiss that tasted like starvation, desperate, the taste of want and restraint finally snapping free. Theo's tongue shoving past lips, teeth clashing, a low animal sound vibrating in his chest as days of pent-up want finally tore loose.
Yu let him have it, mouth pliant for a beat, letting Theo pour his longing into the kiss. Yu's lips—soft and yielding—then bit Theo's lower lip hard enough to draw the faintest copper tang. Theo groaned into his mouth, hips jerking forward, the thick ridge of his trapped cock grinding shamelessly against Yu's thigh. Between ragged breaths and frantic, wet kisses, Theo managed to murmur against him.
"Not a drop—since that night. Not one drink. I wanted you to know—this is only you."
Yu's lashes lowered, the faint scarlet glow of an Incubus flaring behind hazel, lips slick and swollen from the fervor. He scoffed into Theo's mouth, the sound sharp enough to cut, the sound scraping straight down Theo's spine to his balls. before pulling back just far enough to let the air between them cool.
Theo groaned at the sudden loss, already leaning forward to claim him again when a hand pressed flat to his chest stopped him.
Confusion flickered through his blue eyes.
"Yu?"
Yu tilted his head, his expression a storm—cold, sharp, yet pulsing with unmistakable lust. Slowly, deliberately, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his loose pants and slid them down, letting the fabric pool around his ankles. No underwear. His cock was already half-hard, flushed pink, a bead of precome glistening at the slit. But that wasn't what he was offering. His voice, low and commanding, laced with an Incubus purr.
"I'm stressed. I'm lonely. So just shut up and fuck me."
Then he turned, deliberate as sin, planted his palms on the gleaming conference table, bending forward against the polished conference table. Back arched like a bow drawn for war, legs spread just enough that the glossy shine of slick already coating his twitching hole caught the overhead lights. A brazen offering. A taunt.
Theo's throat worked as he swallowed hard, the sight robbing him of breath. Hunger eclipsed reason. He licked his lips, fingers fumbling at his belt, shoving down his slacks and freeing himself, his eight inch length already hard and aching. His cock sprang free—heavy, flushed an angry red, veins standing out, the head already slick with his own desperation.
One hand seized onto Yu's hip hard enough to bruise, the other fisted the base of his shaft as he pressed against that quivering opening. The moment of alignment stretched taut—then he slammed inside with a guttural growl, filling Yu in one fierce thrust.
He didn't wait. No warning. No gentle press.
He drove in to the hilt in one brutal thrust. Yu's spine snapped into a deeper arch, a choked, filthy cry ripping from his throat as Theo's cock split him open, thick and burning hot, stretching him wide. The table skidded forward an inch with the force of it. The moment Theo bottomed out, his breath fractured into a guttural groan.
Theo didn't pause—couldn't—hips snapping back only to slam home again, and again, setting a punishing rhythm that had the slap of skin on skin echoing like gunshots through the empty boardroom.
The conference table shuddered under them as Theo's groan mingled with Yu's gasp, the sound thick and raw, echoing in the empty room.
His hips jerked back and then slammed forward again, the rhythm starting rough, needy, the sharp slap of skin-on-skin echoing in the hollow silence of the meeting room. Yu's body tightened around him with every thrust, molten heat wrapping and squeezing, making Theo's mind white out with the sheer bliss of it.
"Fuck—Yu—"
Theo's voice cracked, forehead dropping to the sweat-slick curve of Yu's shoulder blade as he rutted like a beast in heat, balls drawing up tight already. Every thrust dragged the fat head of his cock over Yu's prostate, forced broken moans from Yu's lips, made that perfect hole clench and milk him greedily.
"Yu—Y—u—Yu—"
His voice cracked on the name, his forehead pressing into Yu's shoulder as his hips lost rhythm and simply rutted, frenzied and unrestrained, like he couldn't bear even a moment outside that devastating clutch.
Yu clung to the edge of the table, knuckles whitening, breath catching in ragged moans. But beneath the sharp edge of lust, something else stirred.
A pulse. A pull.
The Incubus hunger surged. The instant Theo had thrust inside, had buried himself balls-deep, Yu felt it—Theo's vitality rushing into him, life-force flooding into him, thick and potent, richer than anything he'd ever tasted—like spiced wine pouring over his tongue.
Not like the essence he'd skimmed from Callen or Adrian—this was aged whiskey, molten honey, pure, raw vitality that poured down his throat, soaked into every starving cell. It spread in waves through every nerve, feeding him, intoxicating him. His eyes flashed crimson—inner walls rippling in rhythmic, deliberate squeezes—sucking Theo deeper, pulling more.
'Better…'
Yu realized between gasps, his lips trembling as he moaned.
'So much better than Callen…than Adrian. So much more.'
His hazel eyes flared brighter with faint red light, and every squeeze of his inner muscles was instinctive, greedy, drawing more from Theo with each reckless rut.
A gasp tore out of him, high and wanton, his body writhing back for more.
"Ahh—! Yes—more—"
"Harder!"
Yu snarled, voice wrecked, shoving back to meet every thrust.
"Fucking ruin me—give it to me—"
His voice broke, the sound not just pleasure but need, his instincts keening with raw hunger.
Theo lost it. Hands sliding up to grip Yu's shoulders, he yanked him back onto his cock with every forward snap of his hips, pounding so deep the table legs scraped across the floor more. Yu's cock slapped wetly against his stomach, untouched, leaking in a steady stream now, but he didn't need touch. The energy Theo was force-feeding him with every brutal thrust was better than any hand, any mouth—headier, sweeter, addictive.
Yu's moan pitched higher, almost a sob, body trembling on the edge of something catastrophic.
"Theo—fuck—I'm—gonna—"
Theo growled, teeth sinking into the meat of Yu's shoulder, hips stuttering as his orgasm barreled down his spine. One, two, three more savage thrusts and he buried himself to the root, cock pulsing, flooding Yu's greedy hole with thick, scorching ropes of come.
The moment Theo started coming, Yu shattered.
His back bowed impossibly, a raw scream tearing free as his own cock jerked and painted the table beneath him in messy stripes. But the real climax was inside: Theo's release detonated another surge of pure life-force, richer than the last, flooding Yu until his vision whited out and every nerve sang with gluttonous bliss.
The Love-o-meter ticked up:
48 - 49
Theo slumped over him, both of them gasping, sweat-slick and trembling, Theo's cock still twitching out the last of his cum deep inside.
Yu's tongue swept over his lower lip, tasting copper and sex and power.
He thought, half-dazed, half-terrified.
'I could live off this forever. I could kill him trying.'
And the worst part?
He wasn't sure he'd stop himself if it came to that. Even as DK01's warnings whispered at the edge of his mind, Yu couldn't stop thinking it—
'I could get addicted to Theo's taste.'
Utterly, dangerously addicted.
Theo's rhythm faltered.
At first, it was just instinct—the realization that Yu's body was different this time. Pliant, yes, but also clinging, grasping around him like velvet chains, moaning not only in pleasure but in a way that made his spine tingle, as if Yu were drinking him in with every thrust. Every time Theo sank himself to the root, that slick, furnace-hot channel fluttered and sucked around his cock like it was starving, pulling at him with greedy and rhythmic, milking him for more than just cum.
His own hunger gnawed, urging him to see all of him. He needed to see. Theo's hand slid up Yu's trembling and sweat-damp torso, rough fingers curling in the hem of the baggy shirt. With a savage yank upward, he dragged it up to Yu's armpits—panting into the hollow of Yu's neck—baring smooth, pale skin to the cold fluorescent light.
But when the fabric rose, when pale porcelain skin was bared under the dim overhead lights—Theo froze.
There they were.
His eyes locked on the scattered bruises marring Yu's skin. Not the ones he'd left. Not in the shapes, not in the placement.
Love marks.
Bruises.
Mouth-shaped. Finger-shaped. A constellation of them scattered across Yu's ribs, the dip of his waist, the tender skin just above one sharp hipbone. Fresh enough that the edges were still violet, not the ones Theo had left days ago.
Faded, but recent.
Theo's cock throbbed inside Yu, buried to the hilt. His thrusts slowed—not stopping, not releasing—but dragging, his jaw tight, his chest heaving. He stared at them as his hips slowed to a cruel, grinding drag—grounding forward in a new, unsteady rhythm, every thrust heavier with restrained fury.
"...Who."
His voice was raw, low, almost breaking. The single word cracked like a whip.
"Who else has touched you?"
Yu's breath caught in his throat.
The Love-o-meter ticked down:
49 - 45
The Love-o-meter ticked up:
45 - 49
The Love-o-meter ticked down:
49 - 46
The Love-o-meter ticked up:
46 - 49
The Love-o-meter ticked down:
49 - 47
Inside, DK01 hissed warning after warning.
[Host, the Love-o-meter is destabilizing again. Theo's jealousy is spiking to dangerous levels. Caution is highly advised, Yu, so choose your next words very carefully.]
But Yu barely heard it. The Incubus hunger drowned everything else out—Yu didn't answer. Couldn't. His eyes had gone full scarlet behind half-lidded lashes. Every pulse of Theo's thick shaft inside him poured another gush of raw life-force straight down his throat, rich, dark, intoxicating. He could feel it flooding his belly, lighting up every vein like liquid fire.
The warmth of Theo's body, the salt-slick taste of his skin, the rich, addictive flavor of his vitality pouring into him with every push.
It was ambrosia. It was wine. He could drain and drain and never stop.
His hazel eyes flickered deeper, the faint glow bleeding brighter as his body squeezed and milked Theo unconsciously, instinct warring with reason. His mind screamed at him to bite, to take, to devour—
Just give in~ he's merely a mortal, there are four billion more of men just like him~ who cares if this one dies~ trust your instincts, it will be easier~
—yet he grit his teeth and trembled, clutching at the edge of the table to keep himself from snapping.
'Don't—'
He begged inwardly, to himself, to his hunger, to the system.
'Don't let me drain him dry.'
But the temptation…it was exquisite.
Theo's jaw clenched as he stared at those marks. His fingers dug bruises of his own into Yu's hip, holding him still while he pulled out slow, torturously slow, until only the swollen head remained, stretching that puffy rim. Then he slammed back in so hard the table legs screeched across the floor again. His voice came out ragged, each syllable sharpened by the tension in his throat.
"Who, Yu?"
His hips drew back, then slammed forward, punctuating the demand with a brutal, punishing thrust that punched the air from Yu's prostate and tore a broken scream from his throat.
"Ahh—!"
Yu gasped, pleasure ripping through his body, the sound half-moan, half-broken cry. His legs trembled, spread wide to take him deeper.
"Tell me!"
Theo growled, another punishing thrust.
But Yu—caught in the haze of Incubus hunger and the blinding sting of pleasure—lifted his head with a shaky smirk. He laughed, breathless, vicious, cruel, even as his body betrayed him, clenching desperately around the cock splitting him open. His voice trembled but carried the arrogance of defiance, his chest heaving as he gasped out between moans.
"Y-You… you may have been my first—ahh—but you sure as hell won't be my last—nhh—!"
Theo's pupils blew wide, fury and lust fusing into something feral. The words seared him, ignited a fire that consumed the last vestiges of control. The confession snapped something inside Theo.
"You… arrogant little—"
His words cut into a growl as his hips slammed forward mercilessly. A red haze dropped over his vision. He yanked Yu upright by the hair, spine bowing, shirt still rucked up under his arms, and started fucking him in earnest, short, brutal strokes that never let more than half his length leave that clutching heat.
SMACK—SMACK—SMACK—
His hand came down hard across Yu's round ass, each slap resounding sharp in the empty meeting room. Each slap made Yu's hole spasm, sucking Theo deeper, wetter, the lewd, sloppy squelch of lube and precome echoing with every violent thrust. The pale skin reddened under his palm, rippling with every strike before being forced forward again by his relentless rutting.
"Ahhh—ahhhnn! Theo—f-fuck—!"
Yu cried, gasping as the sting bloomed into heat, mixing with the rush of pleasure flooding his veins. Every slap made his insides clench tighter around Theo's length, the wet squelches of their joining filling the room with obscene music.
Schlk—schlk—schlk
"Say it again!"
Theo growled against the shell of Yu's ear, teeth sinking into the lobe until he tasted blood.
"Say another man had this greedy little hole."
Yu sobbed, cock trapped between his belly and the table's edge, leaking in a constant stream now, untouched.
"Y-yes, fuck, yes, two of them, ahhn!, they reamed me open right where you're, nngh!, splitting me now—"
The Love-o-meter ticked down:
47 - 40
Theo roared.
He shoved Yu flat to the table again, chest to polished wood, and set a pace that was nothing short of punishment. Hips crashing forward so hard Yu's feet left the floor with every thrust, cock dragging over that swollen prostate again and again until Yu was babbling, drooling, tears streaking down flushed cheeks.
"Mine!"
Theo snarled, one hand fisted in Yu's hair, the other reaching around to fist Yu's dripping cock, stroking rough and fast.
"This hole is mine. This cock is mine. Every drop of cum inside you from now on is mine, do you fucking hear me?"
Yu came with a wail, entire body seizing, hole clamping down so tight Theo saw stars. Thick ropes of come painted the table and Theo's fist while Yu's inner walls rippled in waves, sucking, drinking, pulling Theo's own orgasm out of him like a riptide.
Theo buried himself to the root and unloaded, pulse after pulse of hot come flooding Yu's greedy channel, giving the Incubus exactly what he was starving for.
And still Yu's body kept milking, fluttering, drawing out every last drop of seed and life-force both, until Theo's knees nearly buckled and black spots danced in his vision.
Yu's tongue lolled, eyes glowing crimson, lips parted on a silent, ecstatic scream.
Too much.
Too good.
The rhythm grew savage again, unrelenting—wet flesh smacking against flesh, punctuated by Yu's breathless moans, Theo's guttural curses, the sharp sting of hand meeting skin, and the ragged litany of half-formed pleas that tumbled from Yu's lips.
"Don't—ahhhnn—don't stop—ahh, please, don't—haaah—!"
Theo leaned over him, chest to Yu's trembling back, biting into his shoulder as he hissed hotly into his ear.
"You're mine, Yu. Mine."
And yet, beneath his mask of arrogance, Yu's panic clawed at him—because feeding off Theo felt too good, too addictive, and he wasn't sure how long he could hold back before he lost control entirely.