Chapter Text
Touya’s bright red hair pokes out above the edge of the fridge door. Standing upright, he swings the door shut with a flick of his wrist, a cold can of soda gripped in his hand.
The tip of his finger is curled beneath the tab when his dad, Enji, walks into the kitchen. He pops the tab, the carbonated soda hissing as the pressure releases. He casts a lazy glance at his dad, noting that he seems dressed up as if prepared to go out.
Enji’s wearing a black dress shirt, the sleeves already rolled up to his elbows, and a pair of matching dress pants that complete the entire ensemble. There’s a black leather belt shoved through the loops on the pants, the gold buckle catching on the bright kitchen lights, along with the gold gleam of an expensive watch on Enji’s right wrist that his wife had gotten him long ago for one of their anniversaries.
The only other pop of color on Enji’s entire appearance is the dark burgundy tie that hangs from his neck.
“Going out?” Touya casually asks. He presses the can of soda to his lips, the artificial orange flavor sliding onto his tongue.
“Yeah,” Enji offhandedly mumbles as he opens a cabinet and pulls out a mug, “work event.”
Touya lets out a hum in response. Enji’s popping a coffee pod into the coffee machine when he casts a glance at Touya, his lips slowly parting in preparation to continue their conversation, when he stops. His eyebrows scrunch so harshly together that the skin on his forehead wrinkles at the action.
There’s a crimson, diamond-cut gem sticking out of the cartilage of Touya’s right ear. It’s eye-catching, noticeable…and Enji didn’t like it.
Touya can tell as much when he glances in his father’s direction and sees that his lips are tugging down into a stern frown. “What?” Touya asks, a single brow rising sharply on his forehead.
Enji blows a sigh out through his pursed lips. He tips his head back, then forward so that he can pinch at the bridge of his nose. “Touya,” he starts, but his son cuts him off with a sharp roll of his eyes and a loud sip of his soda. The frown of displeasure on Enji’s face only worsens with Touya’s reaction.
His lips pull into a harsh, flat line upon his face, brows pinching together so tightly that it makes him look as if he has a thick, red unibrow on his forehead. Enji’s voice is sharp and stern when he speaks, “Touya.”
His tone makes Touya’s mouth pinch into a frown as well. His eyes narrow at his father, and his shoulders hunch together. Touya’s head tilts at an angle, the shift causing his already narrowed eyes to tighten more until his eyes are nearly slits upon his face, and the barest slivers of his irises and pupils can be seen. “Didn’t realize I needed to ask your permission to do whatever I want to my body.” His tone is clipped, curt, and harsh.
He swings his gaze away from his father’s face, not seeing the sharp tick that appears in Enji’s jaw.
The cold aluminum soda can is pressed against Touya’s lips, and he lets out an indignant squawking sound. Enji had hooked his fingers through the belt loops of Touya’s jeans and tugged him forward. The sharp jerk of his body caused Touya’s grip on the can to loosen; it crashed to the floor, spilling sticky, orange liquid across the ground.
His chest collides with Enji’s, their noses brushing in the limited space between them. They’re close enough that Touya is caged in by his father’s body in front of him and the kitchen counter pressed against his back.
He can see that the turquoise hue of his father’s eyes has darkened. To keep himself from crashing into Enji completely, Touya shifted his stance so that his knees were apart. Enji has slid a leg between him.
His knee is pressed against the kitchen cabinets, thick thigh so close to Touya’s crotch that he can feel the heat of his father’s thigh on his skin, even with the layers of clothing between them.
Pulling in a shuddering breath, Touya’s eyes subtly flicker as he drinks in his father’s half-lidded gaze and his darkened eyes. He can feel his heartbeat pulsing away in the hollow of his throat, rabbit-like and quick, like he’s caged in by a predator and waiting for Enji to make the first move.
Enji’s right index finger uncurls from Touya’s belt loop. He presses his large hand against his son’s waist and Touya shivers at the touch and heat of his father’s hand.
His pulse speeds up, growing louder in his ears as Enji keeps his eyes on him but drags his hand up, letting his fingertips lightly skate over the fabric of Touya’s shirt, dance over his side and ribs.
Touya pulls in an uneven breath when the hot tips of his father’s fingers brush against the sensitive skin on the side of his neck, and he swallows thickly when those firm fingers cup his neck to press against the back of it. Enji’s fingertips brush against the fine hairs at the nape of Touya’s neck, palm pressing against the rapidly warming skin of his son, the curve of his thumb pressed just beneath Touya’s jaw, forcing his head to tip back slightly so that he’s staring up at Enji.
Enji’s thumb lifts so that he’s stroking at the skin of Touya’s jaw, just below where his ear is. “You don’t think you need my permission to alter your body?”
The question is a hot whisper against Touya’s lip. A ghostly breath that makes him shiver against his father’s touch and taste the mint on his breath when Touya pulls in a quiet, gasping inhale.
Tilting his head, Enji lets his mouth brush against Touya’s lips. The briefest ghostly touch makes Touya attempt to jerk his body away from his father’s presence. But Enji is a solid wall of flesh that blocks Touya from moving forward, so he’s forced to press his back further against the edge of the counter.
A sound—half gasp, half aborted moan—is forcibly plucked from Touya’s throat as he feels his father’s fingers tighten in the fine hair at the nape of his neck and tug on them.
The movement causes Touya’s head to snap back at an angle, exposing the pale column of his throat and making his bottom lip brush against Enji’s mouth.
A flame flickers in his belly, its warmth starting to slowly spread out to the rest of his limbs. Touya can feel his cheeks starting to flush, the heat of a visible brand on his face. And by the feeling of his father’s mouth curving against his lips, he can tell that he knows as well.
The fingers of his left hand curl, gripping the edge of the counter tightly.
“You’re mine.” Enji’s tone is soft, gentle, a quiet whisper in the halted breath of the kitchen. It makes Touya stifle a whimper all the same. He can feel his cock start to stiffen, the base growing thick and heavy with blood. “I made you.”
Touya’s throat bobs with a nervous swallow. His fingers twitch, tapping against hte underside of the counter’s edge.
“Everything you do to your body—piercings, tattoos—you need my permission to do.” Their lips are so close that they’re nearly kissing, but that pressure, the flush heat of Enji’s mouth against his is absent. Briefly, Enji’s fingers tighten again in the fine hair at the nape of Touya’s neck, and it draws a sound from it that even he couldn’t name.
“You belong to me.” The words come out as a quiet, amused huff of laughter from Enji’s mouth. “Every single part of you, down to your molecules, is mine.”
Then the tension snaps between them as Enji kisses Touya.
Kissing Enji is…difficult to describe. It’s almost like watching him use his flame abilities, the all-consuming heat and fiery passion of it.
And Touya is facing the brunt of it.
Enji kisses him like he wants to consume him right then and there. All tongue and teeth and engulfing passion. He kisses Touya like he’s starving, like his own son is a meal or water that will quench his thirst, and Touya has to hold onto him for dear life.
Touya’s right hand is bunched up against the shoulder of Enji’s shirt, black fabric scrunched beneath his tightly gripped fingers. Enji’s tongue is in his mouth, moving between parted lips, mapping over his teeth and every inch of that warm cavern as if he can lick every lingering trace of orange soda out of Touya’s mouth.
Touya shivers, half-hard cock pressing against the meat of his father’s thigh. That burning flame of arousal was warming him from head to toe. His fingers tingle in the wake of that fire, and his moans are swallowed up into Enji’s mouth when he can feel the tip of his father’s tongue tracing over the flat of his own, and then Enji stops.
He pulls his head back, one corner of his mouth tugging into an expression Touya can’t discern. Enji’s lips are parted as he pants for breath, his lips as pink and kiss-swollen as Touya’s are.
And then Touya’s gasping as Enji forces a thumb into his mouth. It’s hooked over his bottom teeth, pressing the tip of his tongue down against the tips of his bottom teeth. Enji wrenches his jaw open wide enough that Touya lets out a noise of protest, his jaw aches from the position, and his mouth waters, coating the tip of Enji’s thumb until it overflows and spills from the corner of his mouth.
There on his tongue—exposed to the warm lights of the kitchen—is the end of a small, golden ball.
Removing his thumb from his son’s mouth, Enji doesn’t say a single word to him. Instead, he pulls away from him, twists his torso around, and Touya can hear the scrape of a kitchen chair as its being pulled out and dragged around.
Touya’s brow lifts in confusion at his father’s action.
Enji’s fingers relax in Touya’s hair, they slide up, fingers weaving through his hair until they’ve reached the roots at his scalp and they grip hard.
He gasps.
Enji uses his grip to march Touya toward the chair. He takes a seat, then drapes Touya’s entire body over his knees.
The light flush on Touya’s face deepens to a bright red like an apple picked at the height of its season. He braces his hands on his father’s left thigh, attempting to push himself up, but Enji slips his left leg out from underneath his son and throws it over his shoulder blades, effectively keeping Touya pinned where he wants him.
A disappointed sigh slips out of Enji’s mouth like a slow exhale from his lungs. His left hand has fixed itself around Touya’s roots like a vice. Hard grip keeping his head in place where he wants it. His other hand is roaming over Touya’s ass, hand rubbing over the denim material of his jeans, thumb stroking over where his tailbone is.
“Why can’t you be as obedient as your siblings are?” A harsh slap lands on Touya’s ass, making his whole body jerk forward from the strike. The muscles in his entire body clenches on its impact, a gasp is torn from his throat. Even when Enji draws his hand back, Touya can still feel the lingering warmth of his hand against his skin, beneath the layers of his boxers and jeans. “Docile and such good listeners, but you?”
Another smack. This time harder and on Touya’s opposite cheek.
It makes his whole body lurch, the muscles in Touya’s shoulders tightening so harshly that he can feel them ache when he relaxes them. The shock of the slap feels electric, a current running straight up his spine and into his brain. It makes the muscles in his thighs twitch and his half-hard cock throb as it steadily fills with more blood.
His cheeks burn from a mixture of shame and arousal.
“Fuck off,” he spits out.
The venomous fire only makes Enji chuckle. He rests his hand against Touya’s ass, His big palm cupping the flesh, fingers soothingly rubbing over the curve of it. When Touya feels his father’s hand pull away, he expects what’s coming, but he doesn’t expect how harsh it will be or the force behind it.
Enji’s hand smacking down on his ass echoes throughout the room like the sound of a engine backfiring.
Touya’s toes curl, his mouth drops open, a sharp sound pushes out of him, the first note making it past his throat before it’s aborted into silence. Eyes widening, he lets his head drop, his elbows press into the edge of the wooden chair as he tries to push himself up, throwing Enji’s leg from off his shoulder blades where it keeps him pinned.
Another slap breaks that wall of silence that coated the inside of Touya’s throat. His eyes squeeze shut, his face flushes a shade brighter. He inhales a shaky breath, then pushes out a loud, guttural moan.
A burst of air escapes between Enji’s lips, something akin to a amused huff. “You just like to push my buttons, don’t you?” Another slap makes Touya squirm between his father’s legs, he spits out a curse, and blinks rapidly a couple of times.
His eyelashes are wet.
“You’re a goddamn little brat.” The next blow that comes makes Touya’s fingers curl against the chair, blunt nails digging into the wood. “Always pushing my buttons.” Touya cries out, his eyes squeeze shut, his hips lift slightly, knees knocking against the side of his father’s thigh as he tries to escape from his grasp.
Enji’s hand grips his ass tightly and forces his hips back down.
A gasp falls from Touya’s lips, bitten red and raw. His father’s hard bulge brushes against his lower abdomen and his ribs.
Enji rains numerous blows against Touya’s ass. Each strike alternating between his asscheeks, left, then right, right, then left. With each hit that lands, it feels like a current shooting directly into Touya’s brain, arousal and all-consuming fire that burns through every molecule in his body.
His dick is painfully hard. The denim stretched outwards, the zipper of his jeans straining against the bulge. Each strike causes Touya’s cock to twitch within its confines, it sends beads of precum spilling out of his slit, making a mess inside of his boxers that clings to the inside of the fabric and his cock.
His frantic, involuntary jerk of his hips causes his dick to glide through his own mess. A messy, wet friction that only makes his eyelashes tremble as tears slip from his eyes that he can’t contain.
A reverant moan of appreciation spills from Enji’s lips as he watches the sobbing, moaning mess that he’s reducing his son to. His slaps grow harder, each strike no doubt making Touya’s pale ass into as bright a red as Enji’s hai.
Enji nearly moans at the thought of peeling his son’s jeans and underwear off to reveal the bright red hue of his flesh that he had made that way. His cock twitches where it’s pressed against Touya’s side.
“I own you,” Enji moans, his words drowned out beneath the sound of him hitting Touya’s ass and his son’s noises. He pauses to squeeze and grope at one of Touya’s cheeks.
Even in the cocktail of emotions swirling through Touya’s head, the embarrassment, the pleasure, he can feel that Enji’s hand is noticeably warmer than it had been moments before. His cock twitches with the realization that his father had been using his quirk to warm up his hand while spanking him.
The realization makes his face flush, turning a bright cherry red.
He’s so painfully hard and dripping wet that he knows the front of his pants are stained with the evidence of it. He shivers in his father’s grasp, a plea falling from his lips. “Stop.”
Enji’s tongue pokes out between his lips, the wet tip slides across his upper lip, moistening it. “Say the magic words and I’ll stop.” His voice is husky, coated with a thick layer of arousal.
“Please stop.”
A hard strike against his ass that would have sent Touya falling to the ground if his father wasn’t keeping him pinned, causes Touya to let out a gasping cry so loud that it could be heard from any other part of the house.
The reaction makes Enji laugh. “Aww, little brat’s finally learning some manners.” A slap so hard this time that the noise of it rings in Touya’s head, his teeth clench shut, tears spill faster down his cheeks. His thighs shake, arousal and pleasure raking through every molecule of his body, pushing him forward on a straight and narrow path that he already knows the ending of.
He’s babbling for his father to stop, a chorus of desperate pleas that Enji ignores in favor of spanking him even harder. Striking his ass just right that every slap on it has a pleasurable linger to it. Touya’s twisting and trying to free himself from Enji’s grasp that he doesn’t realize he’s practically grinding his bulge against the thickest part of Enji’s thigh.
“While I appreciate it,” Enji laughs, he blinks with a slow, syrupy quality to it, like he doesn’t want to miss a single second of this moment, “you know that’s not what I want to hear.”
“Dad!” Touya cries out, he sucks in a sobbing breath. Saliva drips down his lower lip. It quivers as he babbles out, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please stop! I can’t take anymore!”
Ignoring him, Enji brings his hand down on Touya’s ass. He gives him a couple good hard slaps that send Touya teetering toward the edge.
“Come on,” Enji hums, “I know you’ve got it in you.”
His next slap is hard enough that it makes Touya’s skin feel like its crawling with electricity, as if he’d been struck by lightning. His brain feels like it’s floating, suspended in a thick, syrupy liquid inside of his skull. His blunt nails dig into the chair, his hips rutting, his cock twitching wildly within his pants that he knows a single touch of it would send him falling over that delicious precipice that he craves.
“I’m sorry!” he gasps out, vision blurring from the tears that spill out of them. The words that spill out of him are a rushed waterfall of blurred together syllables. “I’m yours! I’m yours, okay?”
Enji hums, a long, low rumbling sound that transforms into a quiet exhalation of air. “You’re mine, huh?” His hand stills against Touya’s ass, he lightly rubs the palm of his hand soothingly over his son’s ass. “You know what that means, huh? No more piercings, no tattoos unless you get my permission first, right?”
Touya babbles out an affirmation to Enji’s question, he frantically nods his head, the tears on his cheek drip slowly, nearly coming to a complete halt.
Enji slides his right hand up Touya’s ass to the curve of his spine, he soothingly strokes his hand alongth the length of it, the fabric of Touya’s shirt shifts as his father’s soothing touch runs between his shoulder blades. “Good boy,” Enji says as he lifts his hand away from Touya.
The slap that lands on Touya’s ass in unexpected. It has enough force behind it that pushes all the air out of Touya’s lungs and makes his brain disconnect from reality for a moment as every single synapse within him is overloaded by white hot pleasure.
The disconnect is so great that Touya’s mind and brain are disjointed, his brain feels like it’s floating while his body feels like it’s being pumped through with jolts of electricity. His mouth splits itself open, a loud moan tearing out of his throat that he can hardly hear over the loud thumping of his heart.
His orgasm feels like a burning fire that rushes through him, makes him let out a strangled noise that’s halfway between a moan and a sob of relief. The inside of his boxers are a sticky, wet mess that he can feel slowly start to trickle down to his inner thighs. Touya’s entire body twitches, his head drops, and then lifts as he pulls in one long, shuddering inhale into his lungs.
Touya feels like he’s floating as his dad carefully turns him over in his lap. His ass presses against the still hard bulge of his dad’s erection, but Enji doesn’t seem too concerned about it.
He cradles Touya close to his body, letting his head rest against his shoulder, so he can pepper his tear-stained face with soft kisses and murmuring affirmations about how much of a goody boy Touya is and how well he did taking Enji’s punishment.
Touya shudders, nuzzles his cheek against Enji’s shoulder and they just sit there, cuddling as Touya’s brain slowly comes down from that dream-like state of serenity that he’d been pushed into.
“Good?” Enji eventually asks himmoments later.
Touya does little more than grunt in response to that. His reaction causes Enji to let out a little huff of amusement, he playfully taps Touya on his shoulder.
“Use your words.”
Touya grumbles, but responds with a single word, “Good.” His eyes are closed shut but snap open when Enji quietly curses.
His dad is staring at his watch, Touya’s brow lazily lifts in question.
Enji looks down at him, letting his hand fall so that it’s resting on Touya’s knee. “Someone made me late for my work event.”
Nostrils flaring, a sharp burst of air leaves them in an amused huff. A lopsided smile pulls at one corner of Touya’s mouth. “Well, if someone hadn’t freaked out over my piercing then they would have made it to their work event on time.”
Enji gives him a stern look. His hand slides up from Touya’s knee to circle around the metal of his jeans button. “Well—” he undoes the button, then pulls down the zipper, “—if someone wasn’t being a brat—” Touya gasps, back arching as Enji slips his hand into Touya’s boxers, Enji has to bite his bottom lip as his fingers glide through the messy interior. Touya chokes on a moan as his dad’s fingers wrap around his spent cock and give it a few tugs. Then muttters,“—jesus, you’re fucking wet—”
He pulls his hand out of Touya’s boxers and beneath the bright lights of the kitchen, Touya can see his own fluids clinging to Enji’s fingers, dripping down to his knuckles.
Enji lightly smacks Touya on his cheek, getting streaks of cum on his face. “—or such a whore, then I wouldn’t be late not, would I?”
Touya shudders, his eyes half-lidded as he watches his dad pop a finger into his mouth to lick it clean. His cock twitches a little, arousal slowly creeping back into his veins even as he still basks in the slowly ebbing glow of his post-orgasmic state.
He lifts one hand and presses it against Enji’s right shoulder, using that grip to pull himself up so he can press a kiss to his father’s lightly stubbled cheek. When he pulls away there’s a grin stretching across his face and a fire dancing in his eyes. “Then maybe you should punish me for making you late, huh?”
“I’m home!” Fuyumi tiredly announces as she peels her heels off in the entryway.
She drops them, then walks into the house and makes her way into the living room where she spies Shouto on the couch, watching TV.
It’s only him and no one else, which makes Fuyumi tilt her head with a questioning look on her face. “Where’s everyone? Is Dad still at his work event?”
Shouto turns his head in her direction. “Natsuo’s out with friends and Dad’s well…” he trails off and in that exact moment Fuyumi can hear her older brother loudly moaning and the loud creaking of a bed through the ceiling that it sounded like it would break.
She casts her gaze upwards, rolls her eyes, then drops her gaze back to Shouto’s face. “They better not break the bed again,” she softly sighs, as if Enji breaking a bed hadn’t just happened a single time before.
“Want to help me make dinner?” she asks Shouto.
“Sure,” he says, already getting up from the couch.
“What do you want then?”
Shouto seems to contemplate the question for a moment but Fuyumi’s lips pull into a smile as she can predict her brother’s answer, even as she turns to head for the kitchen.
“Soba.”
Letting out a quiet laugh as her brother follows after her, she asks him about his day at school and as Shouto begins to fill her in on his day, the sound of their older brother and dad fucking is just another normal sound in the house, alongside the faint droning of the TV.