His eyes are closed tight, and lips pressed into a tight line that won't let any sounds slip through. He knows he's pretending this isn't happening. And that amuses him. Because he won't let him ever forget this. Won't let him forget the way their hips are moving, the way their skins are slick with sweat and rubbing each other raw, the way he bites down on his neck to mark pale skin with a red welt he can't hide.

"Shou-chan~," he breaths in his ear as he fucks him, and Shouichi's legs shake as his fingers push behind his knees to hitch them up higher, "Shou-chan, aren't you having fun?"

His cock is hard against their stomachs, taunt and erect and flushed red at the tip. His already pale fingers are nearly stark white in comparison as he wraps them around his shaft and tugs gently.

He tries, puts forth an honest effort, not to enjoy it. But his body is tensing and his hips are twitching as he jerks him off and pounds his dick into his ass. His glasses slip down his nose and he keeps clenching his jaw tighter and tighter as his body gets closer and closer to the brink. Then he comes into his hand, a few drops spilling onto his stomach.

He laughs because he can, because it will make that hateful feeling settle into Shouichi's stomach. He finishes inside of him a moment later, and he pulls away, sated.

Shouichi tries to clean himself up with his discarded shirt, and he won't look up. That's what makes it fun, he has to admit. It's only as fun as it is because of the lies. His hand brushes across his collar bone, and Shouichi finally looks up. He kisses him, because he can. Because Shouichi is his. Because he knows Shouichi hates that he's fallen in love with him. Because he likes to see him lie.

It's why he's kept him around so long, after all.