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Shinra is used to ending his training sessions with Captain Shinmon sweaty and unable to breathe. Benimaru’s idea of training in general is ‘push someone to the absolute limits of what they’re able to handle and then keep pushing them past that.’ Benimaru knows exactly how far he can push him before he stumbles into the realm of tephrosis, and then likes to push him just a little past that.
This, though… This feels different.
Shinra is bent over, sweat dripping from his forehead. All of his muscles feel like they’re made of jelly. Not uncommon when he’s done with his training, but right now, something else is bothering him.
Shinra feels hot. Not just the heat of intense exercise or even the heat that’s so common to pyrokinetics after they’ve been using their powers to the brink of their limits, but a heat in the pit of his stomach that he can’t ignore, rising up and reaching out through the rest of his body. He could call the wooziness a side effect of his lack of oxygen, but a more glaring problem rules that out.
Shinra has never been more grateful for how baggy the standard-issue turnout pants are.
For all of the weird things that differentiate him from most people, Shinra is still just a teenage boy. He’s used to his body acting up and betraying him. This isn’t just one of those awkward boners he happens to get when he thinks about Iris in her soaked ablution robes or catches a whiff of Obi’s post-workout sweat.
He’s hard in a way he’s never felt before, to the point that it feels painful, like something down there is going to explode if he doesn’t do something about it soon. On top of that, it feels like he’s burning up from the inside, like a raging fever accompanying some terrible illness. It leaves his skin feeling like one giant nerve ending.
“You alright over there?” Benimaru’s voice cuts through his thoughts, and Shinra can’t even say how long he’s been standing there with his head hung, because every sensation that he experiences is taking up all of his brain’s processing power.
“I—” Shinra tries to answer him, but ends up choking on his own words, coughing so hard that the world spins even more around him. Just staying on his feet feels like a small miracle when just having his clothes against his skin feels like he’s being electrocuted and cooked from the inside out.
What could have happened? One second he’d been training with Benimaru like always, excited about a rare chance to get him all to himself without having to drag Arthur along with him, and the next this feeling had struck him like a brick to the gut.
Is it some kind of White Clad attack? A weird new illness? Something to do with his Adolla Burst? Shinra can’t even begin to guess, and his head is spinning too hard to think clearly anyway.
“I-I think I need to lie down,” he manages to mutter, because even knowing this isn’t some normal fever, the last thing he wants to do is tell Shinmon Benimaru that he has to cut their training short because he has a raging hard-on and even the lightest breeze against his skin feels like needles.
“You look like shit,” Benimaru says as he takes steps towards him from across the courtyard. “Don’t go keeling over on me now. The last thing I wanna do is explain to that captain of yours why you ended up getting carbonized on my watch.”
Captain Shinmon’s tone is dull, but from the way his eyebrows knit together, Shinra can tell he’s concerned. Not that surprising, considering his personal experience with tephrosis.
Shinra wants to reassure him that it isn’t like that at all, but not knowing what it is, that thought rings hollow.
Benimaru takes a few steps closer, and before Shinra can tell him that he’s fine and make his escape so the Destroyer King of Asakusa doesn’t notice his inexplicable boner, Benimaru is already directly in front of him.
Good thing, too, because that’s the exact moment a wave of heat and pain goes through Shinra, making him clench his gut and knocking his legs right out from under him.
Benimaru catches him under the arm pits, and doesn’t seem to struggle at all with his dead weight, hauling him over to the stairs of the porch and heaving him onto them. Shinra wishes he felt instant relief from being off his feet the way he would if this were regular exhaustion, but it doesn’t do anything to make him feel better.
Captain Shinmon doesn’t even ask his permission to start looking him over, pushing up his sleeves and tugging at his shirt to check his body for signs of tephrosis. Naturally, having Benimaru’s hands on him does nothing to actually help his current condition— and when Benimaru reaches down to check his feet and ankles, he freezes on the way down.
Shinra feels his cheeks flush with embarrassment, but the pain surges through him again, distracting him from the shame.
“Are you being serious right now?” Benimaru snorts, the dismissive tone of his voice making Shinra whine.
With a dramatic sigh, Benimaru grabs Shinra by the back of his shirt. Shinra instinctively tries to thrash free when Benimaru lifts him like a kitten, but Benimaru doesn’t even seem to notice.
Benimaru wrenches open a door of the guardhouse and shoves Shinra inside. . Shinra stumbles backwards until his back hits a wall, and he barely manages to use it to hold himself up before Captain Shinmon slams his hand against the wall inches from his face.
“So what is this?” Benimaru leans in close, and it’s a strangely keen reminder for Shinra that Captain Shinmon is actually shorter than him, at least by a few centimetres. “Some kind of twisted joke, or a real stupid attempt at flirting? Whatever it is, it’s in poor taste.”
Shinra doesn’t have any words to defend himself with, regardless of the fact that it’s not his fault. His legs are still shaking as he plants his hands against the wall behind him to give him some kind of leverage, and he can only pant as sweat keeps rolling down his face. The pain is just getting worse, and so is the heat. He feels like he’s going to burn up.
“I-I’m not—” He tries to speak, but his throat seems uncooperative, like it’s closing around any words he might try to make. It’s as though all of the blood in his brain has literally rushed down to his dick, leaving him unable to rub two brain cells together.
The groan he lets out must tip Benimaru off that something isn’t right, that this isn’t some stupid trick Shinra is trying to play on him. His face softens, not into concern but into confusion.
Benimaru roughly shoves the sweaty hair sticking to his forehead out of the way so he can press his hand to it instead. Shinra winces. It feels like every second Benimaru’s skin is touching his, the throbbing below his belt just gets worse.
“Crap,” Benimaru murmurs. “You’re really burning up. You in a lot of pain?”
All Shinra can manage to do is nod.
“Do you have any idea what’s going on?”
This time, all he can do is shake his head.
“Lovely.”
Benimaru has seen a lot of things in the last twenty-three years of his life, but this is definitely a new one for him.
It seems like he’s been able to say that a lot since meeting the 8th. He’s still trying to decide if that’s a compliment or not.
Right now, he’s leaning towards ‘not’.
Shinra looks like he’s about to keel over. Normally, that wouldn’t be that weird for him after the end of a long training session. Benimaru can sympathize; these days it would take a lot more than a little sparring to put him down for the count, but when he’d been a kid first learning the ropes from the old boss, he’d always ended the day feeling like he’d been trampled by an entire herd of horses and wanted nothing more than to collapse into his futon and sleep for about a week.
Except today Shinra is sweating so hard he looks like he’s fresh out of the onsen and he’s sporting a raging erection in the middle of his goddamn hallway, one that even the baggy turnout pants used by the Fire Force can’t hide.
(Which tells Beni that Shinra is packing a lot more in there than he’d expect, but he tries not to think about that too much. )
“We should get you to a doctor,” is the first thing that comes to mind, and he blurts it out immediately, because what the fuck is he supposed to do for Shinra? He can apply ointment and bandages, and that’s about the extend of his medical knowledge. He doesn’t think either of those things are going to help Shinra right now.
Shinra doesn’t answer him, not really; he just whines at him, and Beni can’t tell if that’s an agreement or a protest.
When Benimaru goes to step away, he feels something snag his sleeve.
Looking back over his shoulder, it’s Shinra himself. His hand is trembling, and only one of his eyes is open, just barely. He’s leaning almost his full weight against the wall now.
“Please—” Shinra gasps, sounding parched, like he hasn’t had a drink of water in days. It’s the only word he manages to get out before his grip on Benimaru’s sleeve turns so tight his knuckles go white, and all of the muscles in Shinra’s neck stand out as he clenches his jaw incredibly tightly to hold back a noise of what has to be excruciating pain.
You can’t just fake that sort of thing. Benimaru can tell just by looking at him that, whatever is going on, he’s suffering a lot.
“I’ve gotta go get a doctor, Shinra,” he says, trying to muster up as much patience as possible in light of Shinra’s predicament, but an edge of agitation still creeping into his voice. Partly because ‘patience’ isn’t always Benimaru’s strong suit, and partly because he can feel something sharp in the bottom of his lungs.
He’d been joking earlier when he said he didn’t want to tell Obi about Shinra getting crippled while in his care, but looking at him now, he’s actually worried that he might be calling Obi to pick up a corpse. A fever like that can kill a person no matter how tough they are.
Shinra doesn’t seem interested in letting go even despite his very solid argument.
“Please—” Shinra gasps again. “D-don’t leave, I don’t— Don’t leave me alone.”
Shinra looks desperate as he begs, and Benimaru feels a lump in his throat that he can’t quite swallow.
“What the Hell do you want me to do then? Just let you get worse?” His voice rises a little, because Benimaru knows that the smart thing is to go get a doctor, but seeing that look in Shinra’s eyes and hearing that crack in his voice weakens his resolve.
Leaving him alone when he’s like this seems cruel, but what else is he supposed to do? He could just sling him over his shoulder and take him with him, but he doesn’t think Shinra would appreciate the whole town seeing him like this, even without the hard-on.
Shinra doesn’t answer, just whines some more. Benimaru doesn’t even know if he can speak anymore. His mouth just sort of flaps open as sweat drops the size of coins roll down his face and his skin turns a shade of red that makes him look like a boiled crab. There are even tears in the corners of his eyes, from how bad it must hurt.
Benimaru knows that Shinra is no wimp. He’s taken a Hell of a beating from him before and gotten up, ready to kick his ass in retaliation, plenty of times. So for him to be reduced to crying and whimpering from whatever is happening to him, it must be excruciating.
What Benimaru doesn’t notice are Shinra’s pupils getting so wide the black starts to swallow the red, like a cat that’s just about to pounce.
Just as Benimaru turns to leave, excuses already on his tongue for why Shinra will just have to be a big boy and hold on until he gets back, his left shoulder feels very heavy all of a sudden. Not expecting it, he topples to the floor with the full weight of another body on top of his. It’s downright embarrassing, and if it were in an actual fight, he would be kicking himself for making such a stupid mistake— but the person on top of him has no interest in kicking his ass, which is good, because he doesn’t think returning Shinra to Obi with broken bones would go down well either.
“What the Hell do you think you’re doing?” he growls, hoping to whatever gods are listening that this was just some honest mistake and not Shinra actually losing his mind, but not feeling very optimistic about it.
“C-Captain Shinmon—-” Shinra’s voice is so thin that it sounds like all of the breath has been knocked out of his lungs, like he’s just taken a hit to the solar plexus. “It— hurts.”
“Yeah, I know it hurts, jackass.” Benimaru tries to flip himself over, but can’t manage more than pathetic wiggling around without literally throwing Shinra off of him, and he’d rather not do that when he’s already clearly fucked up. “That’s why I’m trying to get you some help. Get off of me.”
Shinra whines again, and starts to move. Benimaru thinks he’s climbing off of him— until he feels something bump against his hip.
Something hard, and hot, and—
Shinra is humping him.
Not grinding against him, not rubbing up against him, actually humping his hip like he’s a dog. His whining turns to panting, gasping and gulping like he can’t get enough air, his sweat dripping onto him from above.
“Captain…” Shinra wheezes, like there’s no air left in his lungs. “Help…”
Benimaru has no idea how to even begin responding to any of this. He’s completely frozen, like maybe if he pretends to have spontaneously turned into a statue all of this will just suddenly disappear.
When Shinra leans down to press his head into the crook between Beni’s neck and his shoulder, that’s the moment he snaps out of the frozen state he finds himself in. He shoves Shinra off of him, sending him sprawling to the floor
Shinra rolls off of him and lands hard on his back, a gasp that turns into something like a choking sob ripping out of his throat. He truly sounds so pathetic that Benimaru would make fun of him for it if he thought Shinra would be able to appreciate the humour in his current state.
Shinra is normally a pretty shy kid, blushing like an idiot when someone shows too much skin or whenever anyone tries to tease him about being a normal teenager with a normal teenage interest in sex. So seeing him frantically shoving a hand down his pants with a loud gasp is offputting in just how unlike him it is.
Not that it stops Benimaru from watching, rolling over and pushing himself up to sitting like he’s trying to get a better view, eyes going wide as he realizes what Shinra is doing. The polite thing would be to look away, but he doesn’t.
Shinra’s movements are furious and jerky as he gets a hand around himself, not bothering to shove down his pants or underwear, as if he can’t even spare the couple of seconds it would take to slip out of his suspenders. Considering how much he looks like he’s in pain, maybe he really can’t.
“Ah—” Shinra is just choking out noises through his hoarse throat, not even managing to say real words, the sounds more like something you’d expect to hear from a distressed animal than a person no matter how much pain they’re in.
He huffs and wheezes and his hand flies so fast Benimaru thinks he’s going to dislocate his shoulder if he keeps it up. Whatever is causing him so much pain, jerking off doesn’t seem to actually be helping— his face just keeps getting redder, and he chokes out a loud, desperate sob.
“Nnngh…!” Shinra trembles, all of the muscles in his neck standing out with strain, and Benimaru narrows his eyes. “I… I can’t…!’
“Can’t what?” he demands almost immediately, his brain spinning as he wonders how any of this could have happened when Shinra seemed just fine when he arrived for his training.
“Can’t… Can’t finish…” Shinra manages to get out, even though it sounds like he’s straining through every word like needles in the back of his throat. He looks over at Benimaru with teary eyes, the pain he’s in clear as day, trembling and desperate.
A smart man would stick to Benimaru’s original plan: go find a doctor. Whatever is wrong with Shinra, it’s more than Beni is equipped to handle.
No one has ever accused Shinmon Benimaru of being a smart man.
Something inside of him snaps; his patience, his self-control, something. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that, since the day Shinra tried to fight him and then saved his life just a few hours later, there’s always been a part of him looking at him with hunger and simply shoving it down knowing he shouldn’t be thinking that way.
Maybe whatever is infecting Shinra is contagious, and the way his cunt throbs between his legs at the sight of him like this and the slick sound of his hand around his cock can be blamed entirely on that.
Or maybe he really is just stupid and that’s all there is to it.
Without that something in the way, Benimaru scoops Shinra up in his arms like he weighs nothing, without a second thought. He storms through the halls of the guardhouse, ignoring the way Shinra squawks at being picked up so suddenly, until he finds a storage room that he doubts anyone is going to have a reason to look in on for the rest of the day, throwing the door open.
Doing anything in the hallway doesn’t sound like a lot of fun when any of the hikeshi, or even Konro, could come across them at any moment.
Benimaru tosses Shinra into the storage room, slamming the door behind them as Shinra hits the floor with a THUD.
When Shinra looks up at him with tears now pouring freely from his eyes and little pained hiccups escaping from him, Benimaru wishes he could say the churning in his stomach is from disgust, but that would be a lie.
“You want me to touch you?” he asks Shinra, and Shinra nods so furiously it looks like his head is going to snap off his neck.
“J-just make it stop,” Shinra begs, with so much faith that he can do anything about this that Benimaru feels like he has to try, as if he hadn’t already made up his mind.
“Strip,” he says to Shinra, who doesn’t hesitate, practically ripping the clothes from his body without shame. It seems like Shinra’s usual virginal embarrassment has been replaced by a desperate need to make the pain and the violent fever go away, and somehow they’ve both arrived at the same conclusion on how to do that without a single shred of evidence aside from Shinra’s obvious arousal.
He doesn’t manage to get his shirt off, but all Benimaru cares about are his turnout pants and boxers, which he wastes no time in shedding.
His cock springs free, and Benimaru has to suck a hard breath in through his teeth.
Not only because he was right on the money about how much Shinra was packing inside of those turnout pants, but because he can see why he’s in pain.
His cock is so swollen that it’s gone from red to purple, twitching even at the tiniest breeze that brushes across it, dripping wet and glistening with it. Shinra looks like every part of him is about to explode, but none more so than his dick.
Benimaru drops to his knees next to Shinra, who immediately reaches out to grab the leg of his pants, hand shaking with how tightly he grips him. The look that he’s giving him is one of pure desperation. Any sense of shame is gone; this is a matter of pure survival now.
“I’d say sorry for this, but you’re the one that started it,” Benimaru says as he shucks his kimono off, leaving him with just the white shirt and black vest on underneath. Better not to get anything messier than it needs to be, in case Konro has some pointed questions to ask him later.
‘I had to suck him off while he was in so much pain he couldn’t think straight to save his life’ doesn’t make for a very solid defence.
When Benimaru gets his hand around Shinra, it’s like a bomb going off.
The way Shinra screams makes Benimaru want to slap his hand over his mouth, for all the good that would do now. There’s no way the entire guard house hasn’t heard him. He can only hope none of them come looking, writing any noises off as part of their training.
Shinra’s hips jump up into his touch, fucking up into Benimaru’s fist before he even has a chance to start moving his hand. He throws his head back and tosses it side to side, almost like this hurts as much as it feels good.
He’s so wet that Benimaru doesn’t have to spit on his hand or use lube. His hand glides along Shinra’s cock easily, and Benimaru doesn’t tease him, not when he’s like this.
“Shit, you’re really not messing around,” he mutters, although he doesn’t expect Shinra to respond with anything but more desperate animal noises or gasped syllables.
It’s all so lewd that Benimaru finds himself almost transfixed. He completely ignores the heat building in his own body, focusing all of his attention on getting Shinra off.
Shinra lets out a loud, throat-ripping sob as his cock twitches hard in Benimaru’s hand, harder than before, making him think that Shinra is right on the edge— but even though Beni doesn’t stop, wouldn’t dare when things have already come this far, Shinra still doesn’t come.
It’s almost like he can’t, like there’s something in place blocking him.
“Damn.” Benimaru looks down at Shinra’s cock. If he doesn’t do something, his gut tells him things are going to get nasty, fast.
Whether that’s Shinra getting sicker, or whether that’s Shinra doing something more drastic to make the pain go away, he has no idea. Either way, the kid is his responsibility right now, and he needs to do something about this.
One glance at the pain in Shinra’s face, eyes scrunched and tears still running freely, tells him what he needs to do.
Benimaru leans down and takes the head of Shinra’s cock into his mouth.
Benimaru does his best to ignore the way Shinra screams at the feeling of his mouth wrapped around him, focusing entirely on keeping his tongue from scraping painfully against his cock, his hand wrapped around the base jerking off the inches he can’t take in yet.
The few other people he’s done this to, mostly some of the old men who treat him to drinks at the bar after their long days at work when Benimaru is feeling self-deprecating enough to let them talk him into it and take him out to the alley behind the place, haven’t been half as big as Shinra. He needs to let himself adjust.
Shinra doesn’t seem to care about that, though. All he cares about is the fact that the wet heat of Benimaru’s mouth is chasing away his pain, and his hips react accordingly, jumping up into Benimaru’s mouth. He nearly gags on him, eyes flying open, as Shinra tries to force himself deeper before Benimaru is ready to take him.
The last thing Benimaru needs is Shinra making things harder, even if he knows it all stems from that desire to be rid of the pain. He lays his arm across Shinra’s abdomen and presses down with enough strength that he can feel Shinra’s stomach giving way under him.
Shinra lets out a guttural noise, but no matter how much he tries to thrash against Beni’s strength, he doesn’t stand a chance.
Without Shinra thrashing under him like a fish out of water, he feels confident enough to take him a few inches deeper, though his jaw is already starting to ache. He isn’t used to sucking off someone this size, and when Shinra is only halfway into his mouth, the head of his cock hits the back of Benimaru’s throat, prompting him to gag a little.
As much as a part of him that makes his cunt throb even harder wants to try swallowing Shinra’s cock, there’s a time and a place for everything. Right now, what’s more important is Shinra’s actual health. Shinra certainly doesn’t seem to mind him bobbing his head on the half of his cock that he can take, even if his hips still keep trying to fight against Benimaru pinning him down.
Benimaru knows he’s getting close when he feels his cock twitch against his tongue, and speeds up his movements a little, even swallowing around Shinra’s cock when he has to clear the spittle from his throat. It must be too much for Shinra, without any experience and already ready to explode. His gasping and whining changes to quick, fast breaths that make him sound like he’s hyperventilating, and all of his muscles go as tense as wire, his hands clenched so tightly into fists his knuckles turn white.
Beni doesn’t get any warning before Shinra comes outside of those signs.
Benimaru has taken him as far as he can manage when he feels something hot and bitter-tasting flood into his mouth, and at that point, he has no choice but to swallow it down or risk choking.
Whether it’s because he’s a clumsy virgin who shares all of his living spaces with other people or whether it’s connected to whatever is making him ‘sick’, Shinra just doesn’t stop coming. It gets to the point where Benimaru has no choice but to pull off, coughing as he does to try to clear some of his spend from his throat, where it’s left its bitter aftertaste and a feeling like he’s just swallowed an entire meal without chewing.
Even then it doesn’t stop, and Benimaru catches a strand of come across the face as he pulls away, barely slamming his left eye shut in time so as to not get blinded by it, while the rest of it spills over his hand and onto Shinra’s stomach and clothes. It all feels very rude, like something Benimaru would have to go actual teacher mode on Shinra for, telling him it’s bad fucking manners to come in someone’s mouth without warning or permission— but Shinra is probably not in the right state of mine for a lecture right now, and he’s certain it wouldn’t stick.
(Unlike the come clinging to his face right now that has managed to catch a stray bit of his hair in the crossfire.)
Benimaru sits back on his haunches and looks down at Shinra, who has made a proper mess of himself. His cock is still standing straight up, with no signs of going soft, even after he stares at it for a while— but it does look a lot less angry, less like it’s going to pop if someone doesn’t tend to it.
That’s definitely a start.
Turning his attention to the rest of Shinra, the boy in question lies there on the floor, panting so hard it sounds like this managed to exhaust him far more than their earlier training session. His face is the colour of a pickled plum, and he’s so soaked in sweat it looks like Beni just fished him out of the river, but there’s something more relaxed in him now. Maybe just because of how exhausted he is, but all of the tension seems to have drained out of his body, where before Beni is pretty sure he could point out individual muscles from how hard they were straining against his skin.
“Feeling better?” he asks, searching Shinra’s face for more sign of recognition. He watches his eyelashes flutter like he’s regaining consciousness.
Shinra just groans, letting his eyes slide shut again as his breathing starts to even out a little more.
“Guess that’s a yes,” Benimaru mutters. He reaches out to put a hand on Shinra’s forehead, and even though it’s sweat-slick and still pretty hot, he doesn’t feel like he’s completely combusting from the inside out anymore.
“We just—” Shinra blinks a few times, his voice reedy and raspy, like he’s broken it from his earlier screaming. “You just—”
It’s not hard to tell what Shinra is so mesmerized about, but he winces before he can force the rest of the words out, the pain still clear in his face.
“Still hurts?” Benimaru can see why, looking down at his cock. “Guess we don’t have a choice but to keep going, then.”
Shinra whines from the back of his throat. It’s hard to tell considering how red his face already is, but Benimaru swears he’s blushing.
Benimaru could just suck him off again, but it had only taken the edge off a little, and his jaw is feeling sore. Who knows if doing it again will even get the same results?
Besides, the throbbing heat in his own groin isn’t going to take care of itself, and he has a feeling Shinra isn’t going to protest.
“C-Captain Shinmon…!” Shinra gasps and has enough decency left to look at least a little surprised when Benimaru shoves down his own pants and tosses them aside, quickly ridding himself of his fundoshi as well. The fact that his normally red eyes are still almost entirely black contradicts any shyness he might feign, though.
Whether it has anything to do with him or just the fact that Shinra is a desperate virgin, he’s not going to pass up an offer like this.
His cunt is dripping wet, making a mess of his inner thighs. He reaches down to touch himself, rubbing his inch-long dick between two fingers as he lets out a sigh and tips his head back, eyes falling shut as he takes the edge off.
He’s not nearly as needy as Shinra is right now— probably not nearly as needy as Shinra would be even if he wasn’t apparently sick with some kind of Too Horny Disease— but since he hasn’t touched himself at all, his body is way more amped up than it needs to be.
He can practically feel Shinra’s eyes burning holes into him, doesn’t have to look down at his crotch to know that his cock is twitching and leaking yet again. Benimaru just focuses on himself; he’s already done plenty for Shinra, made sure that he’s not one step away from being a feral animal jumping on and humping random people to get himself off, so now he can wait for him to be ready to take him.
He doesn’t think his own fingers will be enough, but neither of them are willing to wait for a better option to get him ready to take Shinra’s massive cock.
Shinra doesn’t move, doesn’t try to get up or get away. He’s staring at Benimaru with a mix of trepidation and anticipation. There’s a tremor in his entire body, and Beni can’t tell if it’s excitement or something else, but considering the situation, it’s not like that’s going to get him to back down now.
He started this job, and now he’s going to finish it.
Shinra thinks that all of this has to be a dream. He can’t imagine a single other scenario where this would be happening to him. This is the sort of thing that happens in dirty manga— someone getting so horny they feel like they’re going to die because of it, and their secret crush stepping in to take care of it for them.
Except, this is definitely reality. Shinra can tell from how much pain he’s in, how much he can feel every touch against his sensitive skin, how he now has the head and wetness of Benimaru’s mouth committed to memory.
All of that is too real to be a dream, even if he would much rather imagine the Shinra who jumped on Captain Shinmon and started humping him in the middle of the hallway isn’t himself.
As ashamed as he is of himself, Shinra can’t help it. The pain is just too much, scrambling his brain, making his instincts take over in place of his good sense. And right now, even though he knows he should be protesting and saying that Benimaru doesn’t need to go this far for him, the fact that he still feels like he’s going to explode if he doesn’t get off again keeps his mouth shut.
He can always feel bad about it later, and it’s not like he could ever force someone like Benimaru into doing something he didn’t want to. Which is an entirely different can of worms he’ll have to unpack some other time.
He tries not to stare at Benimaru fingering himself, but it’s hard not to when there’s nothing else for him to look at, even though he covers his face so he can only see him through the gaps of his fingers.
“Having second thoughts?” Benimaru asks, as though this hadn’t all just happened. “Well, too bad. No way am I letting you out of my sight when you’re like this.”
“N-no—” Shinra’s voice sounds hoarse and wrecked from all of the noises he hasn’t been able to stop himself from making. “I—”
Any second thoughts he might have— out of a sense of embarrassment or feeling like Benimaru is obligated to do this rather than wanting to— pale in comparison to the insistent tug in the pit of his stomach that tells him he needs this, or the small amount the pain has started to fade will come roaring back full force.
Finally, Benimaru seems content with how much he’s fingered himself. As much as Shinra doesn’t want to lose the sight of him touching himself (even if he has to watch it through his fingers to avoid combusting out of pure embarrassment), he’s certainly not complaining as Benimaru moves to straggle him and kneels down on top of him, cunt already lingering over his cock as he considers his angle of attack.
This close, Shinra can feel the heat of his body, and he has to take a few shaky breaths to calm the part of him that wants so badly to just grab him and throw him to the floor. Just because he’s not in his right mind doesn’t mean he can turn into some sort of sex monster.
Shinra drops his hands next to him, trying to grip the floor hard enough that he can feel his fingertips scraping against the wooden floor. His hands tremble, but it’s the only way he can think of to stop himself from reaching out and touching without permission.
His cock twitches hard before Benimaru even has a chance to reach down and take him in hand, and he snorts.
“Still that excited, huh,” he mutters. “Well, guess it can’t be helped. Don’t go passing out on me or something, alright?”
“Y-yes sir,” Shinra manages to mutter even through his brain turning to pure fuzz. It’s not just because of his brain breaking at the realization that he’s going to be inside Benimaru in a moment, it’s also because the pain flares up in that moment, erasing any possibility of them just stopping now while they still have the chance.
Even if Shinra feels guilty for Benimaru having to do all of this for him, the pain still rules over his senses. He can make it up to him later, if possible.
Benimaru nods as if he finds that answer acceptable, reaches down between his legs, and takes hold of Shinra’s cock.
Shinra has to suck a breath in and hold it, feeling his jaw trembling as he clenches his teeth hard enough that they’re practically grinding together, at the feeling of him stroking him. He can feel the exact texture of Benimaru’s calloused hands, swear he could map out his palm print from the nerve endings in his cock.
Shinra doesn’t have long to wonder at that feeling before it’s replaced by the kiss of Benimaru’s wet cunt against the head of his cock.
Just the heat and wetness of his pussy bearing down on him is enough to make Shinra’s eyes roll into the back of his head, his fingers scrabbling at the floor under him enough that he’s probably going to be leaving questionable scratches, his head tilted back until he can feel that same hard floor pressed uncomfortably into the back of his skull.
Benimaru doesn’t stop there, obviously determined to see this through and get something out of it for himself, like Shinra is a sex toy for him to use for his own pleasure. He lowers himself, but takes things slow— slower than Shinra would have expected from someone like him.
Benimaru has to pause with only the head of Shinra’s cock inside, his breathing harder and more ragged than Shinra has ever heard during training— not that it’s that noticeable even still, but it tells him something that he’s sure he would be better off not knowing.
Shinmon Benimaru is struggling to take his cock.
Shinra isn’t blind, he knows he’s not small, but he didn’t expect this. He’s seen Captain Obi and some others, he didn’t think he was going to be a problem.
“Shit, this is no joke, huh…” Benimaru mutters, seemingly to himself, taking a deep, slow breath to prepare himself to slide further down onto him. It makes Shinra wonder how much experience Benimaru has, but he axes that thought before it can get too far ahead of itself. It’s not like it’s any of his business.
Benimaru manages to sink halfway before he has to stop completely, his strong legs braced against the floor as he pauses to adjust to the size of him. He plants his hands on Shinra’s calves as he leans back, jolting at the way his change of position makes Shinra’s cock shift inside of him and brush against entirely new places.
With Benimaru’s hot, tight cunt wrapped around him, Shinra can barely even focus on breathing, let alone thinking. The pleasure is almost more overwhelming than the pain, not that he’s going to complain.
A few more deep breaths gives Benimaru the confidence he needs to slide down further, and this time, he only stops when Shinra is fully inside of him, their hips pressed flush together.
The strain is clear, and even Shinra can’t help but hold his breath— not only because he thinks he’s going to come before he has a chance to savour what he’s sure is a once in a lifetime experience, but because the anticipation is just that intense.
“Fuck…” Even Benimaru seems to be speechless aside from a muttered curse, his voice thin, and Shinra feels his cock twitch inside of him at the thought that he’s driving someone like Benimaru to that point— even if he isn’t actually doing anything.
It’s clear that Benimaru is overwhelmed. That thought alone would drive someone like Shinra crazy with the implications— that he’s too big for him to take, that Benimaru isn’t experienced enough to take him— even without the situation at hand, but as it stands, something throbs deep inside of Shinra.
Not just his cock inside of Beni’s body, but something tight and painful, pulling at him. It’s a different kind of pain, but he knows what it means all the same.
As long as Benimaru leaves him waiting like this, he’s going to hurt.
And, unfortunately for them both, that pain is a stronger driving force than Shinra’s normal moral framework at the moment.
Shinra’s hands, which he’s kept faithfully down at his sides so there’s no chance of him doing something he’s going to regret, snap to Benimaru’s hips like they’re being drawn in magnetically.
“Hey, did I say—” Benimaru’s breathless voice gets cut off by Shinra, who doesn’t have time to give him to finish his sentence.
“I-I’m so sorry, Captain Shinmon!” he blurts out, just before he abruptly sits up and uses his hands on Beni’s hips to throw him to the floor beneath him.,
Benimaru lands hard on the floor, knocking the breath from him for a split second. Shinra is still inside of him; his grip on his hips made sure of that.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Benimaru’s voice has a sharp edge to it as he glares up at him, and it’s not softened in the least by the flush high in his cheeks or the glossiness of his eyes thanks to the feeling of Shinra’s cock inside of him.
It’s still not enough to stop Shinra in his tracks, but it is enough to pull a whine from the back of his throat.
“S-Sorry,” Shinra manages to gasp out wetly one more time, feeling the heat rising to the surface of his skin. “I just— I can’t wait anymore, Captain Shinmon, it hurts too much!”
Benimaru tries to push himself up, to regain some control over the situation, but Shinra shifts even further forward. Like this, only Benimaru’s shoulders are pressed to the floor, his legs instinctively wrapping around Shinra’s hips as he’s tipped nearly completely upside down.
“Fuck!” Benimaru’s voice is practically breathless as he curses, and the moan he lets out as Shinra grinds his hips against him from this new angle goes straight to Shinra’s brain, further scrambling whatever is going on up there.
If Benimaru really has a problem with this, Shinra is going to end up in a lot worse condition than he started out in. But at the moment, everything feels so overwhelmingly good, chasing away the pain and the heat, that he can’t help himself— only repeat muttered apologizes as he grinds himself deep inside of Benimaru and grips his hips hard enough to leave bruises.
Benimaru whines as he does that, and it’s a sound he never imagined coming from someone like Asakusa’s King of Destruction. It’s like a shot of adrenaline straight to his brain, and all Shinra knows in that moment is that he wants to drag out even more noises like that from Captain Shinmon.
“Ugh, if you’re gonna act like a wild animal, at least move,” Benimaru practically growls at him, shoving his heel into Shinra’s back to urge him to actually thrust rather than just grind into him.
That’s all the motivation Shinra needs.
Without any experience to back him up, he relies on his body to know what to do as he pulls almost all the way out of Benimaru. The drag of his hot walls against his cock draws a shaky, breathy moan from Shinra’s throat that tells him he could get addicted to this, but he banishes that thought from his mind.
They wouldn’t be doing this if he weren’t suffering without it, he reminds himself. Benimaru wouldn’t have subjected himself to this if he weren’t in so much pain. He had forced his hand when he told him to stay with him instead of going to find a doctor.
When he slams back into him, Shinra has no control over his own strength. The force of his thrust shoves Benimaru several inches along the floor, and Shinra goes with him.
It forces a sharp cry of something like pain and pleasure mixed together from Benimaru, and Shinra keeps up that pace in hopes of fucking more of those same noises out of him.Benimaru under him can’t do much more than take it. Shinra is completely enthralled by the pleasure as it chases away his pain, and Benimaru is the one who offered himself up, so it’s not like he can complain. All he can do is let Shinra prove just how animal people really can be as he fucks him like a bitch in heat.
And it really is animalistic, the way the two come together; Shinra slams his hips into Benimaru without any concern for Beni’s pleasure or even his wellbeing, and though Benimaru isn’t the sort who would break that easily, it isn’t like Shinra at all.
Not that Benimaru minds; where Shinra is completely lost in the pleasure, sweating and panting like the nasty little animal he is, Benimaru finds that same heat rising up from his gut. He clenches around Shinra’s cock, feeling it bully against his cervix, hitting him in places so deep he didn’t even know where to find them in his own body. Every one of his pleasure points is being hit all at once, and even if he wanted to throw Shinra off of him for being a little shit who doesn’t know how to be grateful, the feeling is making his muscles go weak.
So the two of them just charge forward towards an inevitable end, with Shinra clenching his teeth so hard his jaw is going to ache for days and Benimaru’s eyes rolling into the back of his head as he surrenders control in an entirely new way.
When it comes crashing down on both of them, it’s like a tidal wave, or a rock slide.
Shinra’s voice is already absolutely destroyed by everything that came before, but the cry he lets out is still loud enough to nearly shake the walls, even if it’s hoarse and crackling. That’s all the warning he gets before Shinra spills inside of him, filling him up with a new kind of heat that his body isn’t used to.
It triggers something in him, a desire he didn’t know he had flooding into him at the same time as Shinra’s come, and compared to the burning heat that just lives permanently inside of him, this is more like lightning sparking along every nerve. Benimaru’s cry isn’t quite as loud or as desperate as Shinra’s, but it’s close enough to it as he arches his back off the floor and squeezes his legs tightly around Shinra, keeping him buried fully inside of him.
The way his cunt clenches tightly around Shinra’s cock wouldn’t give him anywhere to go regardless, but it does make Shinra let out a second cry, this one a mix of pleasure and pain.
It feels like their pleasure stretches on infinitely, but in reality, it’s only a few seconds. The moment it ends, it snaps some kind of invisible connection between the two, and Benimaru flops bonelessly to the floor.
They both let out a little noise of complaint as Shinra falls back on his haunches, his cock sliding out of Benimaru’s body as he does. Neither of them have the energy to do anything about it, though. Both are trembling, boneless, trying to regain their breath.
“C-Captain—” Shinra manages to choke out a single word, but that’s about all he can manage before he flops backwards, landing with a dull ‘splat’ on the floor.
He’s not sure if he can move, but he does know that he’s somehow still hard even after all of that, and even though the pain has faded into the background once again, it’s still not gone.
“Fuck,” Benimaru curses again as he manages to lift himself up to sitting, and Shinra tilts his head so he can see him— very much not looking at the way his come is dripping from between Benimaru’s legs, because if he thinks about that for even a moment, it’s going to send him into another spiral. “I didn’t think you had it in you, Shinra.”
“I-I’m sorry,” Shinra chokes out once more between pants for breath, feeling like both his lungs and his throat are burning, along with all of his other muscles. This is like a whole second workout for him after already being put through his paces during training.
“You better be,” Benimaru mutters, and Shinra feels something cold in the pit of his stomach— fear for what Benimaru will do to him in response to completely losing his cool and taking control of the situation without his permission (which he would completely deserve), combined with the built-up guilt and shame his brain had managed to push to the side in favour of a carnal, animalistic fixation on getting off. “Next time, you stay down and let me take the lead unless I tell you otherwise, got it? Or you’re really going to be sorry.”
“N-Next time, sir?” Shinra blinks, watching as Benimaru gets shakily to his feet and makes his way over. Following him with his eyes and looking up at him makes it that much harder for him to ignore the white dripping between his thighs, and he feels his cock give a valiant but painful twitch.
“You really think I’m sending you back to Obi like this?” he asks, sounding like he thinks Shinra is stupid, which, fair. “Who knows what kind of trouble you’d get yourself into. No, you’re staying right here until we’ve got this—” Benimaru gestures vaguely at all of him, but especially at his hard cock still sticking straight up after two intense orgasms. “Taken care of. Got it?”
Shinra doesn’t know how to respond to that. He swallows hard, ignoring the pain in his throat as he does, and tries just as hard to ignore the way his thoughts start to spin with ideas of exactly how Benimaru is planning on ‘taking care of it’.
Benimaru is staring at him and waiting for an answer, though, so Shinra finally manages to give him one.
“Y-yes, sir.”
“Good. I’m gonna call Obi and tell him you’ll be late getting back. You stay here and don’t cause more trouble.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And Shinra?”
“Y… Yes, sir?”
Benimaru stops to pick up his pants and pull them back on, not bothering with his discarded kimono or his boots, then makes his way over to the door before turning to look at Shinra over his shoulder and finishing what he started.
“Don’t go getting a big head over this.”
Shinra doesn’t even have a chance to form a response before Benimaru steps into the hall and slams the door shut behind him.
In the end, he still has no idea what could have caused all of this— but he doesn’t know whether to curse it, or thank it.