Seguito di Daddy Dearest
Genere: Erotico.
Pairing: Makoto/Hayato (implicit Makoto/Haruka).
Rating: NC-17.
AVVERTIMENTI: Slash, Lemon, Dom/sub Relationship, Underage, Age Difference, Future!Fic, PWP.
- It's Culture Festival time again at Samezuka Academy, and now that Hayato's fifteen and attends the school he too is forced to go through the penance all freshmen had to undergo before him: wear a maid outfit.
Note: Come al solito, ringraziate pure la Manu per quello che è il seguito di una storia che d'altronde avevo già scritto per e grazie a lei mesi fa XD Ho infatti seguito il prompt che ha lasciato durante la prima delle Badwrong Weeks 2015, dedicata a shota, loli, underage ed age difference. Il prompt era Free!, Makoto/Hayato, maid!Hayato, e io ci ho buttato in mezzo un po' di D/s just because.
All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. Original characters and plots are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.
you want to see what the scratching brings?

Makoto pushes him against the wall, his hand already traveling underneath Hayato’s skirt, up along his thigh. Hayato bites at his own lips, trying to keep his voice low, since he cannot keep it in entirely, no matter how hard he tries. He thinks about his brother wandering the Culture Festival together with his friends, Matsuoka, Nanase… of course Nanase’s there. Makoto and him must’ve come together. But Makoto’s here with him, and this alone gives him such a thrill that the one Makoto’s fingers are giving him almost pales in comparison.

“You better be quiet, Hayato-kun,” Makoto smiles playfully, leaving a tender kiss behind his ear, “Your classmates are gonna hear you, if you keep whimpering like this.”

“Coach Tachibana…” Hayato tries not to moan, closing his eyes shut and leaning against the wall. Makoto’s hand’s halfway through already, his thumb passing slowly over the frilly hem of his panties.

“You put girl’s panties on, Hayato-kun?” Makoto asks, leaving a little kiss over his earlobe before sucking it into his mouth, “You’re so cute.”

He feels self-conscious, all of a sudden. He could’ve worn his swimsuit. He could’ve worn normal underpants – but nobody was supposed to look under his skirt, or to touch him there, for that matter. He just thought… he doesn’t even know what he was thinking. He just thought he was going to see Coach Tachibana, that he wanted to look pretty for him, pretty enough to deserve a reward.

He just didn’t expect it to come so soon, or at the Festival, anyway.

“C— Coach, I don’t think—“

“What?” Makoto whispers, covering the curve of his neck in kisses, “You don’t want it?” his tongue drawing wet circles under his ear, “You don’t like it?”

Hayato closes his hands in fists against the wall, squeezing his thighs closed when Makoto starts palming him. He traps his hand between his thighs, Makoto can’t move it anymore, but he can still move his fingers, and he slowly rubs his middle finger between his buttocks, through the light fabric of his panties.

“I don’t…” he whispers. He thinks he should stop him, because this is dangerous, and scary, and people could see them, find them out any second. His heart is beating so fast. He’s already so hard his erection hurts. He thinks he should stop him. He can’t. “I don’t know…” he whines.

Makoto smiles, pressing himself against him, crushing him gently against the wall. “Don’t lie, Hayato-kun,” he says, “You know how disappointing that is.”

“I— I know, Coach Tachibana,” he nods, keeping his eyes closed. He feels Makoto’s hardness pressed up against his ass, and it makes him wanna move. It makes him wanna swing, see if he manages to rock his hips hard enough to make the skirt come up, to feel him right against his skin, closer to his opening.

“Now, be a good boy and tell me the truth,” Makoto says, “And let me go. Do you like it?”

“Yes, Coach Tachibana,” Hayato admits, parting his legs to let Makoto free to move his hand. He instantly moves it up his crotch, slipping his fingertips past the hem of his panties to reach for his cock underneath, stroking it lightly.

“And do you want it?”

“Yes,” Hayato’s voice breaks a little when Makoto’s thumb passes over the head of his cock, already wet and gleaming with a few drops of pre-come.

Makoto can’t keep a short chuckle in as he strokes him a little faster. “Tell me,” he says, “What is it exactly you want?”

“Coach Tachibana…” Hayato whines again, bending over as much as the wall’s proximity lets him, just to push his ass agaist Makoto’s crotch in a desperate attempt to feel him, and to invite him to cut this short, to just give it to him, praying to God this is not one of those days in which he refuses, “Please, don’t… don’t make me talk. I can’t… can’t keep my voice down. They’ll hear me.”

“Mmh,” Makoto tilts his head, pushing his nose past the collar of the maid dress, to leave a half-wet kiss on the curve of Hayato’s shoulder, “Then you’ll have to be so good they won’t hear a thing,” he says.

Hayato moans, biting at his bottom lip as his legs shake. Makoto’s jerking him off at a steady pace, now, his fingers moving quite fast up and down his hardness, making its head rub insistently against the lace of his panties, the movement sending shivers running up and down his spine in violent jolts, especially when it’s naked and bare and Makoto’s fingers aren’t there to protect it, as oversensitive as it is.

“I…” he starts off, moistening his dry lips as he tries to contain the noises of pleasure coming naturally to his lips, “I want you to take me, Coach…”

“Take you?” Makoto smiles, nosing his neck as he keeps jerking him off, “But I already have you, Hayato-kun.”

“No…” Hayato whines, trying to push back, “I mean, yes, but…” he whines again, a broken sob coming out from his throat before he can stop it, “I meant I… I want you to fuck me, Coach Tachibana.”

“You do?” Makoto smiles again, covering his cheek in kisses. He slows down the movement of his hand, and Hayato, who was this close to come already, suddenly feels his climax slip out of his reach, and it feels like an unbearable loss, and he starts crying, as silently as he possibly can.

“Coach…” he sobs, “Please, don’t stop.”

“You said you want me to fuck you,” Makoto points out, his fingers still moving around his cock, excruciatingly slow, “Here? With only a curtain covering us? With so many people beyond it, knowing they could hear you and come here and find you with my cock buried inside your body?”

“Yes!” Hayato raises his voice, Makoto’s words resonating like some kind of calling inside him, making his body ache for more, “Yes, please, Coach, I can’t take it anymore.”

“Hayato-kun,” Makoto smiles against his jaw and then licks it, a wet line moving from his chin to his ear, “I won’t.”

Hayato sobs loudly, and then bites at his inner cheek to try and keep it in. “But I’m…”

“Sssh,” Makoto says, starting to move his hand around his cock again, “I won’t fuck you,” he says, talking in whisper to his ear, “Because I can’t. Believe me, I want to,” he adds, his voice a little rough, crawling in a deep, dark shiver underneath Hayato’s skin, “But I want to fuck you so hard you can’t help scream my name. And I can’t have that here, can I? No, I can’t. So be a good boy and concentrate on my hand.”

Hayato feels desperate and on the edge to start screaming, but Makoto’s voice calms him down. The way it vibrates against his skin reminds me of a soft, powerful purring, and Hayato concentrates on that sound, and on the movement of Makoto’s hand, and as he keeps his eyes closed he starts rocking his hips again, pleasure pooling up quickly in his underbelly, getting him to the point of feeling his climax approach once again and then pushing over that thin line that brings his orgasm over, making him jerk his hips forward as his entire body’s passed through a wave of pure electricity that leaves him spent, unable to keep himself straight on his legs alone.

He leans backwards, knowing Makoto will catch his fall, and obviously he does. He wraps his strong arms around his shoulders and draws him in for a warm, bear-like hug, as he kisses him on his temple.

“Feeling better, now?” Makoto asks sweetly.

Hayato smiles, turning his head to ask for a kiss. “Yes, Coach,” he says.

Makoto kisses him slowly, holding a hand over his chest to feel it, before he can hear it, when his breathing and his heartbeat go down. “You’re not nervous anymore, are you?”

“No,” Hayato shakes his head, smiling gratefully, “You always know how to calm me down.”

“That’s what I’m here for, right?” Makoto jokes, and Hayato laughs, pressing his lips against his in a soft kiss again.

“Thank you, Coach,” he says. “Will I see you later again?”

“Ah,” Makoto chuckles, “We’ll have to ask Haru-chan about that, won’t we?”

“Just for a couple hours,” Hayato insists, clinging to him, “I promise I’ll let you come back home for tonight.”

“It’s not your place to decide, Hayato-kun,” Makoto answers, kindly but firmly, stroking his cheek, “You know that. Be a good boy.”

Hayato sighs, but surrenders, letting go of him. “Alright,” he says, nodding, “I’m sorry if I overstepped, Coach.”

Makoto laughs out loud, pulling him in for another hug. “You’re so cute, Hayato-kun,” he says, “And this dress looks perfect on you,” he adds with a little wink, before he walks away.

Hayato bites at his bottom lip for a moment, his cheeks flushed, his stomach tying up in knots as he replays Makoto’s voice in his head a thousand times. He prays Nanase says yes. Even though he knows if he was in his shoes, he probably wouldn’t.
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