Work Text:
Flash. Cameras blinked one after the other, blurring Kayn’s already hazy vision further, leaving his ears ringing slightly. He does his best not to sway on his feet, or give anything away, keeping a stiff smile on his face as K’sante speaks to someone off to the side.
The hand helps, anyway. The wide, strong hand, stuffed straight down the back of his pants. Ironically enough, it gives him something to slightly lean his weight on, supporting his frame and keeping him rooted. That’s about the only mercy it grants him, though.
He chances a glance from the corner of his eye, and the sight both unnerves him and makes his stomach stir a little more. Yone’s face is placid, giving absolutely nothing away. The bastard has not a single strand of hair out of place, his free arm bent behind his back in his put-together, gentleman-y façade, but Kayn knows better. That hand is fisting his collar, the fucking leash that had confused him so badly the first time he dug out his outfit, but that now presented its true purpose.
Another finger slides deeper and curls inside him at the same time as his collar is pulled tighter, forcing his back straight again. Probably his punishment for looking and focusing on something other than looking pretty for the cameras and paying attention to any questions possibly directed at him, and his toes curl inside his fucking shoes.
He’s half thankful for the way these jeans cover his hips, because he’s probably soaking through them. He bites his lip and breathes in, sneers when someone calls out his name to look into their lens. If he does a good job and holds on for a little longer, Yone might go easy on him. This is nothing.
He tries to zone out after that, when the last photographer gets enough shots of him and turns to Yone. The voices in the room faze out, Sett excitedly interpreting for Aphelios as he dutifully talks about his writing process. Faintly, he hears someone compliment Yone amidst more camera shutters. He wonders if he’ll be able to spot anything amiss later when they’re published. If he’ll find a drop of sweat running down Yone’s brow, or a sign of a blush climbing down that awful, ridiculous, unholy fucking chest window of his-
The two fingers inside him pull out, slowly and tortuous, and he can feel how wet they are. Yone sweetly circles them around his clit, almost pulling a whine from his throat, one he has to work hard to keep behind gritted teeth. He wants Yone to stop, wants to spread his legs and let him properly stuff him full. Wants Yone to drag him away somewhere barely secluded and replace his fingers with his tongue until he’s crying so loud all the mics in the room pick the sound up.
He clenches down on the intrusion, aiming to get Yone to stop teasing him, but instead it sends a shock up his spine. He hears Yone hum beside him, probably oh so happy to know he’s the single cause for Kayn’s need to crawl out of his skin. He introduces a third finger, pressing up enough for the pressure to make his head spin and his knees subconsciously press together. His breath picks up, and he has to count down from ten in his head to tamp down the small lick of desperation in his chest. His legs are shaking, there’s no way no one in this entire room doesn’t see what’s going on.
But it seems Yone alone is privy to what his hands are doing to him, and that means he’ll continue for as long as he can get away with it. Probably for the duration of the press, and that’s long enough for him to get Kayn close enough to the edge before leaving him to hang dry, flushed and shaking in his tight, flashy pants.
Pants that were evidently not tight enough to keep Yone out. How is he going to survive another twenty minutes of this?
*
The press lasts a little more than the promised twenty minutes remaining. Kayn can't say the same.
By the time they’re excused off the room, Yone is two knuckles deep in his pussy, his pointer finger teasing his clit. The bastard could really multitask. When the cameras are packed up, Yone finishes him off. He thrusts his fingers in roughly and pulls them off in the same stroke, already leaning down to catch him when Kayn gasps and his knees give out.
Blood rushes over his ears, burying whatever excuse Yone gives the rest of the group before dragging Kayn off into an unoccupied dressing room.
“Fuck.” he pants, immediately folding over the vanity to rest his head over his arms. His knees are still unsteady, his stomach shaking after the sudden orgasm he was barely allowed to enjoy. His hole quivers, intimately missing the fingers that had spent so long buried inside him.
He misses the click of the door lock behind him, but he’s very aware of the hand wrapping around the yellow leash trailing behind him, and the way it yanks him up until he’s barely propped up on his hands, staring at himself in the mirror. The lights are really good, professionally bringing out the deep blush adorning his cheeks and traveling down his chest, the spots on his lip where he bit through, and the shine of sweat on his forehead.
It also makes Yone’s pretty hair look shiny, almost as shiny as his lips after he licks over them, like one does at a plate of delicious food before they feast.
Kayn whines. They’re alone now, behind a locked door, and he knows what that means for him. He's at his mercy, and how much he gets will really depend on what Yone thinks he deserves. He chuckles at him, seeing his inner turmoil through his face. The vibrations press against his back, Yone’s chest covering him as he presses impossibly close.
“Yone…” he whimpers. He’s staring straight at his face, stuck in a trance when a long lock of silver hair slides from behind his ear to graze his pretty jaw. Yone noses the side of his face, his eyes also locked on the mirror. On him.
He yanks the leash and lifts his right hand, taking advantage of the way Kayn’s lips drop open on a gasp to stuff his mouth with two fingers. They taste salty, and his eyes roll back when he realizes he can taste himself. He sucks on the digits, licking them clean and trying not to choke when they press down on his tongue.
“I almost want to praise you.” he coos, turning to nuzzle his ear. “You held out so well…”
Kayn whimpers again, whining when Yone pulls his hand away. It drifts down his front, once again taking its place under the waistband of his jeans. It almost hurts, he’s so sensitive after being teased for so long, but the angle is even better. And if he thought, hoped that Yone would be done with him after all that, the thought is now completely gone. His clit throbs, enticed again by the prospect of more.
Yone covers his mound with his palm, fucking into him with two fingers, and he’s so wet the slide is easy. He curls them in, zeroing in on his sweet spot, and he makes a choked sound.
Yone takes his sweet time, mouthing behind his ear, and after a couple of minutes Kayn grows restless. He uses his grip on the vanity to grind back on Yone, asking him for more while refusing to vocally beg. He can feel Yone’s erection pressed up to him, feels his breath stutter directly over his ear. If he’s going to force another orgasm out of Kayn, he might as well fuck it out of him.
But he doesn’t give in. Yone lets go of the leash to instead wrap his palm around Kayn’s throat, forcing his back to arch and his head to rest on Yone’s shoulder as the man plays with him.
“Ah ah.” he tuts, holding him still. Kayn wants to thrash against his hold, wants to beg and cry. Yone grinds against his clothed ass, teasing him with what he won't get and chuckling when that gets a moan out of him. “If you want to come again, you’ll take what I give you or I’ll leave you here.”
He curses, and his throat vibrates under Yone’s palm. It closes more around his pulse point, thumb and forefinger pressing down on the sides, effectively shutting him up and cutting off his air supply. Kayn won't beg for cock, but Yone will force him to beg for air. He speeds up, and the sounds they make fill up the otherwise silent room. Yone is mostly quiet, save for the slick sounds of his hand working him up again. Kayn is a mess, producing choked out groans and noisily scraping his nails down the vanity.
Suddenly, there’s noise outside the room. Footsteps approaching, voices talking amongst each other. Kayn panics, but the surprise is enough to push him over the edge.
He spasms, his cunt squeezing down and hips bucking. He cries out, and Yone lets go of his throat to turn his head, kissing him hungrily and making sure he swallows every frantic sound he makes. The sounds get closer, but Yone doesn’t stop. His knees tremble, his legs spreading further apart, and he sobs when Yone’s fingers reach further inside him, fucking him until he’s sobbing with overstimulation.
Just in time, a knock is heard on the door, Ezreal’s voice floating in to ask how Kayn is doing. Yone lets him go with a peck on his sweaty head, opening the door just a sliver to give him a reassuring smile and tell him Kayn is fine, and they’ll be on their way soon.
Once their steps have gone far enough, Yone closes the door back up and turns to take in his state.
Kayn has fallen to his knees, his arms spread out over the vanity the only thing keeping him off the floor entirely, and his head is laid sideways over the wood. His face is red, breath coming out in ragged gasps.
“My pussy, dude.” he protests weakly.
Yone covers his mouth with his clean hand, and laughs.