Kotetsu knows what is happening, but he doesn't expect it.
Not then, at any rate.
He knows the hand that clamps over his mouth, the hot breath against his ear, the hand that catches his wrists, twists them behind his back, binding them tightly with no real care about hurting him, damaging him. He knows the fingers that drag his hair back, stroke him like he's some valued prize now captured before a makeshift cloth gag is dragged between his teeth, no matter how he tosses his head and struggles.
Kotetsu doesn't get to look and see the one he knows so well, though, because a blindfold is tied tightly around his eyes before he can even think about it, and the dark of night, he's dragged to a car he knows quite well – shoved into the passenger side of it – driven somewhere else.
If he didn't know his captor, he'd be struggling far more. He'd use hundred power and leave, he'd get the fuck out and tear them to pieces. But he knows them – knows the shitty driving, for one, the way the person slams on the brakes and screeches around turns like a madman. Kotetsu swallows, tongue flicking against the gag, wondering if he can work his hands free if he's given another minute or so –
But suddenly, the car stops, and he figures they're wherever his captor wants them to be.
He expects to be dragged out of the car, to some other place – but instead, he's caught by the hair, the gag untied from his mouth and for a moment, he coughs, glaring into the blindfold until he's dragged down. Kotetsu hears the squeak of leather as the driver's seat is rolled back a bit further, the jangling of a belt being undone, and he freezes, straining back against the hold on his hair that is pushing his head down when he realizes where it's being guided.
"N-no – "
The voice is low and breathless, exhilarated, no matter how familiar it is. The hand in his hair tightens, twisting, forcing him down, and Kotetsu grits his teeth as the slick head of what he knows is the person's cock presses against his lips.
"Open up, or I'll make you."
Kotetsu hesitates for a second longer, and his captor does, indeed, make him – sure, slender fingers sliding along his jaw, pressing into the hollows of his cheeks to force his mouth open no matter how he tries to grind his teeth and keep it shut. "Bite me," they say as their hips thrust up and the hand on the back of his head pushes him down, "and I'll kill you."
And so Kotetsu doesn't bite. A shudder rakes down his spine as that hard cock slides between his lips, over his tongue, gagging him as he's pushed down nearly all the way. He chokes and coughs, messy and sloppy as he's dragged back up, panting for a full breath as he's shoved down again, mouth used like a damn toy as he's forced to suck on his captor's cock. He's never thought himself that good at this, anyway, but god, is it hard against his tongue – he can hear the groans from the other man, the way his breath is shorter by the minute, the way those fingers twist within his hair, pulling at his scalp as the man's hips snap up into his mouth, sliding down his throat and making him shudder as he tries not to gag.
Finally, he's shoved away – but only for a moment, a useless, pathetic moment that leaves him with little to do but pant for a full breath. Those hands are on him again, prying at his own belt, yanking it off – slacks, too, or at least mostly, shoving them down to his thighs along with his underwear. A twist of panic makes him want to bolt, but Kotetsu hardly has the chance – not when he's dragged back and into his captor's lap, not when he can feel that hard, slick cock pressing against him, not when lube is messily spread over his hole, when slim fingers are pressing into him, twisting within him, another hand pushing him forward and holding him down against the steering wheel as he panting and trying not to grind back into that touch –
Fuck, he's forgotten about trying to get away, trying to keep up acts.
It's especially hard when Bu- … no, his kidnapper's cock grinds against him, slides into him that first inch, and Kotetsu just groans, chokes on his next, gulping inhale of air as he's dragged back by sure, strong hands into their lap. His mouth falls open, his body sagging back, legs splaying over the other man's lap as he can't help but grind down onto his captor's cock, can't help but tense his body around him, squeezing as he rocks and bucks down against him.
"Now you're eager," the man says, breathlessly laughing, fisting a hand into his hair as his hips thrust up and he actually starts fucking him – making Kotetsu growl because it isn't fast enough, isn't hard enough. His captor is tormenting him with slow, aching thrusts up into him, the sharp pull on his hair and the bite of their nails into his hip not anywhere near enough to satisfy.
But he doesn't fucking beg. Hell no. He refuses. He just grits his teeth, moans and huffs out hot breaths of air, and arches his back as finally, finally his captor gets tired of torturing him, gets tired of waiting himself and shoves him forward again, flat against that steering wheel. It presses into his chest and it hurts, hurts just like his wrists that are sore and raw, hurts like the hand in his hair – all off-set by the hard cock sliding in and out of him, fucking him hard enough to make it impossible to suck in a full breath of air with how he trembles, with how he aches, with how his body just gives up and quivers and after another moment, succumbs and comes messily in his captor's prissy goddamned sports car.
The other man doesn't last much longer – he fucks Kotetsu for another minute, maybe two, savoring the tight twinge of muscles, every shake and every shudder, before he comes deep inside of him, panting into a tanned shoulder and releasing his hair to sink back, entirely too sated. His hands lift, prying away the blindfold, and Kotetsu blinks as street lights flood his vision a moment later, all before sinking back and burying his face into gold curls that he knows so very well.
"Fuck, Bunny," he mutters. "Warn me next time."
"That defeats the purpose," Barnaby breathlessly reminds him, and Kotetsu just grumbles in return.
"Untie me, at least."
"I think I'll leave you like that a bit longer. It's a good look on you."