Work Header

bad boys, good boys

Work Text:

Yuuta doesn’t really know how to tie this—He’s pretty much winging it right now.

But he can’t just say that. He’s supposed to be the one in control here; he’s supposed to have at least some idea of what’s going on. But the stupid rope keeps slipping out of his fingers and coming undone every time he thinks he’s finally gotten it.

“What’s taking so long?” Rinne jeers, sending a smirk over his shoulder at him. “You’d make a shit cop. If this were real, I’d have gotten away ages ago.”

Yuuta grits his teeth and pulls the rope tighter. A tingle of satisfaction runs down him when Rinne’s muscles flex and tense. “Shut up. I’m trying to concentrate.”

“Yeah? Well I’m getting bored. Can’t even get my own damn self off when you’ve got my hands like that.” Rinne scoffs and lolls his head backwards, the tips of his hair brushing against Yuuta’s forehead as he pushes the chair off its front legs.

“Sucks for you,” Yuuta says dryly, wrapping the rope around itself once, twice. “I’ve almost got it, so how about you behave for just a second?”

“Why don’t you make me?”

“Isn’t that the whole point of this?” He ties a box knot and wraps the ends back around the rope and—yep, those are definitely handcuffs. Probably.

…Good enough.

Rinne gives a good jerk on the cuffs. When the rope stays put, he hums approvingly. “Took you long enough. I swear my dick was gonna shrivel up and fall off if you kept me waiting any longer.”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re annoying?” Yuuta reaches a hand up and grabs Rinne’s hair, pulling him back toward him. Rinne sucks in a sharp breath—the chair wobbles on two legs and falls back enough that they come face to face, Rinne’s head resting almost tenderly in the crook of Yuuta’s neck.

Rinne smirks up at him. “Maybe once or twice.”

“You should take the hint one of these days.” And with his other hand he grabs the collar and slaps it over Rinne’s neck so that the leather straps dangle freely. He reluctantly lets go of Rinne’s hair to fasten the buttons tight against his skin. Then, with one hand on Rinne’s chin, Yuuta tilts his head just enough for his lips to brush against his ear. “Be a good boy for me now, okay?”

Rinne swallows thickly.

But he recovers in the span of a heartbeat, his smirk twisting up into a toothy grin. “Good boy? I thought that was your schtick.”

Yuuta rolls his eyes. “As if.”

Rinne chuckles. “That’s not what Hina told me.”

What? Yuuta tenses, his fingers digging into Rinne’s shoulder. Have they been talking? Is Rinne still trying to mess with—

“Or what? Is that just some act for your big brother, then?” Rinne continues, uncaring. “You just tryna stay on his sweet side so he’ll fuck y—”

He’s cut off with a yelp when Yuuta shoves him, the chair toppling forward and spilling Rinne onto the ground. He lands hard on his shoulder, his arms protruding out awkwardly behind him. He lifts his head as he squirms, tugging at the rope bondage in vain.

“The hell was that for?” he spits, and even in the low light of Rinne’s bedroom Yuuta catches the fiery glare burning down his face until even his neck is flushed pink.

His eyebrows raise and his eyes widen when Yuuta pushes himself up and stomps over to him, digging his heel into Rinne’s shoulder so that he’s lying flat on his back, arms twisted and crushed beneath him. He wiggles a bit, but Yuuta’s boot just presses deeper into him. He’s sure it’ll leave a mark, and the thought of that just makes him lean harder into it.

Rinne grunts. “What, did I piss you off or something? Little baby Yuta-kun can’t take a joke?”

“Didn’t I tell you to shut up?” Yuuta snaps. He sinks down so that he’s straddling Rinne’s torso, and Rinne’s grimace is enough to keep him going further still.

Rinne smirks again, but it’s lost that playfulness it held before. “Didn’t I tell you to make me?”

Yuuta takes a deep breath and hunches over, his hair forming a curtain so that not even god can see the expression on his face. “I will.”

He grabs Rinne’s head with both hands and jerks it up straight so Rinne can’t see anything but Yuuta over him. He keeps a poker face, his eyes unflinching and defiant, but still he bites his lip, as if in anticipation for what Yuuta will do to him. The answer should be obvious, though.

Yuuta’s nails are just long enough to leave light pink tails behind as Yuuta drags them down Rinne’s face, then down his neck. Rinne shudders, bucking his hips a little as he tries to break free from the ropes again. But they hold fast, and Rinne is helpless on the floor under him.


“Keep Hinata-kun’s name,” he hisses, wrapping his hands around Rinne’s neck, “out of your mouth.”

The leather of the collar is cool against his skin, a striking contrast to the burning heat underneath it. He doesn’t know what kind of face he’s making right now, but apparently it’s enough to make Rinne drop his devil-may-care attitude, his lips pulling into a frown and his eyes widening as he reaches some kind of understanding. “Wh–Hey, Yuta-kun, what’re you d—”

Finally, finally, Yuuta gets blissful quiet when Rinne cuts off with a gurgling cough. His mouth drops open as if to scream, but no sound comes out. And Yuuta presses down, his thumbs digging into trachea. He forces his nails into the skin, leaving behind two matching crescents—a sign that Yuuta was here, a sign that Rinne’s life belongs to him.

Rinne coughs again, and Yuuta feels each bob of his Adam’s apple under his palms. He writhes under Yuuta to no avail, his legs kicking but going nowhere, his arms jerking but firmly stuck behind him. “Y—St—”

“Hm?” Yuuta says, leaning in close so that his hair tickles Rinne’s cheeks. He yanks his head away—the only control he has over the situation at this point. “I can’t hear you, Rinne-senpai.”

All that comes out of Rinne’s mouth is a sick gurgling noise and a short, breathless gasp. Yuuta huffs and eases up, though he keeps a certain pressure on his neck to maintain dominance. As soon as he’s free, Rinne barks at him, hoarse and barely audible. “Y–you bastard…”

Yuuta scoffs and pushes his thumbs back into Rinne’s trachea. He coughs violently and whips his head back and forth, his muscles tensing under Yuuta’s hands.

“Stop—!” Rinne rasps, his head falling slack. A line of spit dribbles out the corner of his mouth and down his chin.

Yuuta hums, pondering it. “Safeword.”

Rinne’s confused grunt sounds like a whine.

“If you really want me to stop, say the safeword,” he explains, stroking Rinne’s neck gently. The indents from his nails form valleys against the pads of his fingers, and this time Yuuta’s the one biting his lip as he leans in closer, closer until there’s no space left between them.

Rinne doesn’t move.

Yuuta bites down hard on his earlobe, and Rinne whimpers. “Come on,” he goads. “Just say the word, and I’ll stop. Or what, is little baby Rinne-senpai too much of a pervert?”

Rinne squeezes his eyes shut, his whole body tense and unmoving. His lip trembles, but his mouth stays closed.

Yuuta smirks. “That’s a good boy.”