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O-6 had always been good at pressing Classless-7's buttons. It was a strange part of their relationship, O-6 took pleasure in seeing the way Classless-7’s shoulders would square and the way his fingers would tense, jaw set hard. Yet never say a word, too loyal to O-6 to ever go against him. It didn't matter how much he pushed or what buttons he hit, Classless-7 would never bite back at him. Unless O-6 hit a special little place… and he was feeling like he wanted to get a fight from Classless-7. Sure, watching him struggle to act unbothered was its own entertainment, but sometimes he wanted Classless-7 to bite back and give him a reason to get physical.
O-6 crosses his legs as he leans back in his chair, a threatening, malicious smile slowly creeping on his face. It was truly unfortunate that Classless-7 couldn't see it, underneath the mask. He was tempted if only for a minute, to remove it and let Classless-7 see for himself. He restrained himself, however.
"You know, Classless-7… for such an avid atheist… you seem to be quite interested in hoping for some kind of shit miracle to keep me from noticing you're boiling inside. It's too bad whatever you were hoping for-"
"Doesn't exist." Classless-7’s normal monotonous tone held a growl to it. It made O-6's skin tingle with excitement. Finally, a rise. "And I don't care if you know you're pissing me off or not. I'm more than aware that you are already aware. You always know that you're pissing me off. You do it on purpose. I'm not stupid." Classless-7’s tone eventually fell back to the same monotonous and robotic tone, as usual, about six words in. O-6 prickled with barely contained anger. Who was Classless-7 to not only not give him the fight he'd been goading out of him, but tell him that he knew what he was doing?
"Classless-7."
"Yes, O-6?"
"Come here."
Classless-7 falters a moment. He knows that tone. That tone meant he'd probably be on his knees in front of O-6 in a flash too fast for Classless-7 to comprehend, leaving him reeling and unable to catch up before he found O-6's cock fucking painfully into his mouth. He wavers on his feet a bit, watching as O-6's body language slowly changes from confident and mischievous to angry and malicious, uncrossing his legs and spreading them apart to make room for where Classless-7 soon would be occupying. He almost leaves, almost rushes out and into the night. He takes a single step forward and then his feet are moving of their own accord until he's standing in front of O-6, as told to do a hundred times before.
"Kneel."
Classless-7 hesitates. "Of course." And he does, kneeling down onto his knees in front of O-6's spread legs, moving to pull his mask up enough to allow for what would be coming next. Classless-7 doesn't remember when this particular treatment had started, it was rare in Notail society for such things to occur. Though O-6 hardly ever followed the norm and Classless-7 always did what he said without fail and without question. Maybe it started after the birth of their child? Classless-7 would dare to call himself a liar if he said he enjoyed this. He didn't. He rarely knew what he liked, even less so did he know what he disliked. He hated this. The painful ache in the back of his throat, the way he couldn't breathe, the drool and tears, the way he gagged with every thrust. He felt pathetic and disgusting every time and he's sure that's exactly how O-6 wanted it. He liked setting Classless-7 off as much as he liked to humiliate him. And nothing was more humiliating to Classless-7 than being stuck between O-6's legs, mouth on his dick, O-6's hands holding his head in place, fucking his mouth and throat to shreds and then leaving him to deal with the aftermath, clean himself, explain why his voice was so unbelievably hoars. Or worse, making him walk home with the dried fluids of the activity clinging to his chin, neck, and chest and wherever it happened to land across his face and mask. He hoped this time he would be allowed to clean himself up before leaving.
O-6's knee moves to push Classless-7’s chin upward until it slipped off his knee and drug down his shin. Classless-7 felt himself tense and hoped O-6 didn't notice. His hopes were crushed quickly when O-6 chuckled and pressed the sole of his shoe into Classless-7’s chest.
"Do I make you nervous?"
Classless-7 turned his gaze up to O-6, glad for the mask hiding his expression. O-6 did make him nervous, this whole situation made him nervous, from the first two words to now he was nervous. Scared even. He hated this. He hated everything that came with those two words. The humiliation, the pain, the shame. He wished he could say no.
"Take it off, Classless-7." He taps his mask and Classless-7 tenses further. O-6 only asked for him to remove it one other time and that- he cuts his thoughts off quickly and takes a breath and removes the mask as quickly as he can, he doesn't want to give himself time to think about what it means nor about what taking it off entails in the aftermath. Rip it off like a bandaid and then avert his gaze from O-6 as quickly as he could. His parents would be ashamed.
There's silence in his head for a moment then a wave of prickling anger. Who gives a damn if his parents would be ashamed! They're the reason he's in this position! He's Classless! A natural-born! He's lucky O-6 took such a fucking liking to him because his situation could be far worse simply due to his fucking birth. He grits his teeth and controls the growl trying to bubble out of his chest.
"You look angry, Classless-7… did I strike a nerve?" O-6 practically purs as he leans forward to drag one clawed finger from Classless-7’s ear, down his jaw, and to his chin. He grips his chin in a near-loving grasp, between thumb and forefinger, and tilts his head up. He removes his own mask and Classless-7’s head reels, O-6 hasn't removed it in front of him since before he became an O-Class. He swallows thickly, this is a new game and he can feel himself begin to shake. He doesn't know what he should be expecting anymore.
O-6 moves his hand to gently drag a knuckle down Classless-7’s throat, across the expanse of tensed skin, stretched over delicate inner workings that kept him alive. Without warning and faster than Classless-7 could comprehend that gentleness turned violent as the hand wrapped around his throat and drug him up to awkwardly half stand half kneel between O-6's legs, forcing Classless-7 to grab O-6's thighs to stabilize himself and not lurch forward further or fall over. The grin on O-6's face made a cold chill travel up Classless-7’s spine, what had he done for this? This wasn't the usual. The usual punishment was a blow job, no, it wasn't a blow job, it was a painful face fucking and humiliation. The only time it hadn't been Classless-7 had fled the moment the opportunity had presented itself and hadn't shown back up in weeks. He'd thought O-6 would never do anything like it again… he didn't imagine it would go from never doing that again, to something so much worse.
"You have been quite annoying today. First, you argue against me, then you insinuate I'm stupid for thinking you would fall for something, you have the audacity to accuse me of trying to push your buttons. Classless-7, is that really how you see me? Cruel?" Yes. He wants to scream yes. He hasn't seen his friend as his friend in so long his friend is long dead in his mind. O-6 is cruel and ruthless and takes his anger out on whoever happens to be around. Classless-7 was the one that got the brunt of it, he was around the most.
He swallows thickly, his saliva feeling like he'd tried to eat cotton. "No, O-6. I don't think you're cruel." He hated this stupid fucking game. Why did O-6 have to do this to him? He is cruel and Classless-7 was convinced somewhere along the way O-6 had begun to resent him, maybe even hate him, but was too scared to be alone to admit it.
O-6's smug smile makes Classless-7 want to punch him square in the nose… or cry. Maybe both. He does neither.
"Good boy! I love it when you're so obedient for me! Your parent would be so proud of you, taking orders like the dog you are." That struck another nerve and Classless-7 bristled. His parent was the reason he felt compelled to follow these disgusting orders. His parent was the reason he was nothing more than a dog, on his knees sucking off his master.
He doesn't know what snapped and he would wish he would have had better control over himself in just a short bit. But right now, as his nails dug into O-6's thighs and he saw red hot anger in his vision, he didn't care about the consequences. "Don't talk about my fucking parent. I'm not your damn dog. I'm not my parent. Stop touching me! Get your disgusting hands off me!" He was breathing heavily after yelling, glaring up at O-6. However, he quickly realized his mistake as O-6's face went dark and his blood ran cold, like ice in his veins. "I-... I'm sorry, O-6. I don't- know what came over me… please forgive me." He felt worse having to beg for his forgiveness when yelling at O-6 had felt so good. It did no good, however.
"Classless-7?" His voice was even, but it lacked any emotion. Classless-7’s stomach dropped.
"Yes, O-6?"
"Stand up and strip."
Classless-7 felt numb after those words left O-6's mouth. He knew what would follow. It would be painful, it would hurt, he would cry, he would beg, and O-6 would take and enjoy every second of it. But he couldn't disobey O-6 again… not unless he wanted to die. He still just might.
He stands slowly, on shaky legs, O-6's hand falling away from his throat as he does. The world doesn't feel real around him, his body feels fake, as he moves to remove his coat he thinks those aren't his hands doing it. This isn't reality… if he just keeps telling himself this isn't real, then it won't be and it will have never happened. He tosses his coat to the side and his hands move to the buttons of his shirt. Those aren't his hands. He's not a willing participant in this. He's not following these orders. His shaking hands make unbuttoning the shirt feel nearly impossible and he must have taken too long because O-6 demands he rips it off. He does. And tosses it to the side. This isn't him. This is a stranger. He's behind a glass, watching. He can't stop it. He wished he could. But it isn't him. He removes his shoes with opposing feet and kicks them off somewhere as his hands go to his pants. He wouldn't do this. He wouldn't allow this. He wouldn't stand for this. He unbuttons his pants with a soft and pathetic whimper and slowly pulls them off. Too much skin is exposed. But it's okay, it's not his skin. He takes a deep breath and hooks his thumbs in his underwear and for a moment, he pauses. He can't do this. Please don't do this. Don't. He pulls them off. He was doing this. These were his hands. Exposing him to O-6 at an order. He feels tears burn the back of his eyes. He ignores them.
"You're so good for me, Classless-7." O-6 coos and Classless-7 wishes he could flee into the night and sob into a pillow…. Or a friend's chest…. Or a stiff drink. But he's stuck here. Even if he tried to run now, O-6 is faster. Much faster. He'd never get away. He'd trapped himself here the moment he'd taken that first step forward and he hated himself for it. He hated this. He hated O-6. He'd take it.
O-6 beckons him back over with a wave of his hand. "Sit in my lap." Classless-7 didn't want to. Please don't make him. He couldn't take this. The shame burning in his stomach made the tears build in his vision, blurring it. It made him feel sick. "Sit." The harsh command made Classless-7 sit immediately, straddling O-6 lap as he knew O-6 liked.
O-6 hums a purr as he moves one of his hands to Classless-7’s hip, the other dancing up from his stomach to his chest. It made Classless-7’s skin jump unpleasantly and he tried to ignore the dangers of having those practiced hands move across delicate skin. He closes his eyes, he can pretend it's someone else. Anyone else! It didn't matter who! Just picture some. one. else. His brain remained bitterly blank, supplying nothing but shame and darkness. He felt wetness slide down his right cheek. He ignored it.
O-6 feels a thrill slip up his spine at watching the lone tear slowly slide down Classless-7’s cheek. He leans forward, bringing Classless-7 down by the back of his neck, and slowly, gently, licks the salty wetness off his cheek, up to the apple, then pulls back. He licks his lips slowly, enjoying how the salty flavor fills his mouth, and then disappears down his throat. He can feel Classless-7 begin to shake again, harder than the first time, slowly building to a leaf in a hurricane. O-6 let his hand travel back down Classless-7’s chest and stomach, skate just barely across his pelvis, and then squeeze harshly at his thigh. He digs his nails in, sharp points easily puncturing the skin, drawing thick blood that dribbled down dark skin in macabre rivulets. He relishes in the way Classless-7’s gasps and tenses, throwing his head back and whimpering loud as his eyelids fly open, blown wide with fear, pupils dilated down to near nothing. He loved the way terror looked on his face, licking his lips slowly.
Classless-7 felt like he couldn't breathe, the air had been stolen from his lungs as he panted heavily. Fear drove through him like a stake to the heart, this was torturous. Make it stop. He wished O-6 would just… do what he wanted to do and get it over with already. He wished he'd just fucking left. He wished his brain would supply some fantasy he could get lost in, that this was someone else and he actually wanted it. He wished he could scream. He wished he didn't feel shame in the tears sliding freely down his temples and neck, flowing heavily. He hated O-6. He hated him. He hated him and he hated himself and he hated this. "I hate you." It's a pathetic whimper, barely audible, a weak thing he never meant to and didn't realize he'd said. Even when O-6 tensed under him and that hand on his thigh loosened for just a moment before gripping harder, drawing more blood from his veins, he still didn't notice.
"What?" It was ground out from behind clenched teeth. It wavered in a way Classless-7 had never heard from O-6 before and when he slowly, near robotically and a bit limply, lulled his head forward to look at O-6, he found himself a bit shocked to see a fear he'd never seen in any of O-6's features deep in golden eyes. But he couldn't answer the question… he didn't know what he'd said.
He didn't know what to do now, the way O-6 was looking at him made him feel more exposed than being naked in his lap. Why was he being asked that? Why was O-6 looking at him like that? He'd done as asked, he'd been being good since being asked to strip, hadn't he? He felt his pulse run too fast in his veins, rushing into his ears. It was hard to think clearly over it.
"Did you say you hate me, Classless-7?" Classless-7 swears for a minute there is a pain in that voice. He's dreamed it, some part of him clinging to the hope that O-6 still cared about him, somewhere, still hoping his friend was in there. His friend was dead and this O-6 had killed him. Had he said he hated him? He wouldn't regret it if he did. Not now. Perhaps not ever.
"Yes." If he's really already said it… it's true. He hates O-6. He hates the person O-6 has become and the way he uses him as a fucked up plaything, to blow off steam, for entertainment. He hates O-6 and he hates what O-6 and he, himself, has made him.
There's a silence so loud that Classless-7 almost thinks he's about to be killed, choked to death, a hand carving out his organs, tortured until his body gives out. He didn't care anymore. It somehow felt more freeing to have said what he felt and die for it than to have kept up the charade that he adored O-6 and everything he did.
O-6's hand is lax on Classless-7’s thigh and hip, his face unreadable. Classless-7 can feel the slightest of tremors in those hands. He felt an anger bristle in him, the same that had gotten him in this situation in the first place. Who was O-6 to be upset with him? Who was O-6 to be scared? Who was O-6 to be worried about whether Classless-7 hated him or not? Isn't this what he fucking wanted? Didn't he want Classless-7 to hate him? This is what he asked for! He made this bed and now he had the audacity to make Classless-7 sleep in it alone? No. That isn't how this works. If Classless-7 is going down, he's taking O-6 with him.
"Did you want me to say no?" His voice remains monotonous and there's a slight jerk in O-6's hands. "To keep… pretending like I love you? Like I worship the very ground you walk upon? To keep up this charade that I'm your loyal dog, so in love with you I can't see my own needs or wants anymore? Maybe, once, that was true. I did love you, I did worship the ground you walked on. I called you friend. I trusted you. But look at where you have me. Naked at a command, naked out of fear, in your lap… look at the scars across my body, made by you, no one else, by your claws, by your words. Look at me, look me in the eyes, and tell me you really thought I enjoyed this. Tell me you really thought I did this out of love and not a rooted fear that you would kill me or hurt me worse. You've driven my friends away, I've no one to turn to. You've driven me mad, I only listen to you. I'm insane and drunk on your words and I'm tired. I cannot run, you are too fast, too quick-witted with reflexes I cannot hope to beat. Where would I go that you would not find me?" He moved his hands from O-6's shoulders, not entirely sure when they got there, and claws his way down his chest until he is unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his pants, never once looking away from O-6's eyes. "I am not safe so long as you are here. There is nothing I can do about it. I am stuck, at your whim. Be it naked, in your lap, and scared or at your side listening to every command, agreeing with every sentence." He yanks O-6's pants down, hard, leaving them at his mid-thigh as he reaches forward and traces the outline of his half-hard cock in his stupid silk underwear. "You have been the cat and you always be the cat in this game of cat and mouse you play with me that I never agreed to participate in." He deftly pulls his dick from his underwear, not bothering to pull the clothing down much further than absolutely necessary. "This is what you wanted, isn't it? Obedience. It comes with a price, O-6. And that price is that I hate you." As he speaks, he positions himself over O-6's dick, pressing it to his unprepared and barely wet vagina, pressing it past his labia, pressing the tip to his entrance and, on the final three words, knowing what comes next would be painful, it would hurt, he would cry, he slams himself down hard, taking the entirety of O-6 down to the hilt into him. He throws his head back in a silent scream, eyes blown wide with the pain searing through him, pupils dilated to nothing as shock rushes through his system. He barely gives himself time to register the already blistering pain before he is setting a brutal pace, the pace he knows O-6 would have set himself. "This is- what you want, right? Me to fuck myself on your cock? To be totally obedient and willing for you? You have it! Take it!" He growls out the last two words, meeting O-6's shocked and maybe a bit terrified gaze with his own malicious one. He isn't sure which part of this is his self-hatred and which part of it is his hatred for O-6. He doesn't care. He moves faster, harder, the pain is near white-hot. He keeps going.
O-6's movements are sudden and harsh, Classless-7 barely recognizes them before he's being lifted and shoved down into O-6's desk, O-6 snapping his hips into him at the same pace Classless-7 had set when he'd started. He moves his head into Classless-7’s neck, biting down harshly until a rush of metallic liquid fills his mouth, he bites down no harder, but he doesn't let go either. He growls harshly into Classless-7’s neck as Classless-7 lets out a harsh and pain-filled moan, throwing his head to the side, allowing O-6 better access, his own arms coming to wrap themselves around O-6's back and neck, clawing at his shirt until he's tearing holes into it.
"Fuck! Yeah, take it. Take what you want from me like you always do. Take it you motherfucker. Take it!" He spits out the words at the end, adding emphasis to it by biting into O-6's shoulder, only managing to get his two canines through the material of the shirt to graze against the skin underneath. He growls and pulls back, shoving O-6 up enough that he doesn't have to stop thrusting into him like a feral beast, but he can rip the button-up shirt open and tear it off of him. His mind is a frenzy of fucked up lust, anger, and hatred, aimed at both himself and O-6, he's lost in it. He doesn't care.
"You're disgusting." O-6 growls as he leans back in, finding a new place to sink his teeth and taste the beautiful liquid that brings life to the man underneath him.
"Because of you." He's clawing at his back again and sinking his own teeth into O-6's shoulder until he feels the rush of that same metallic liquid in his mouth. It sends a thrill through him, a thrill that makes him moan, earnestly, into O-6's bleeding skin, a sudden rush of wetness filling his vagina and seeping out around O-6's cock stuffed into him, quickly smearing across his vulva and O-6's pelvis.
"Fuck, you actually like that?" O-6's voice is a mix of disgust and awe as he moves his hips harder, rougher, and impossibly fast. He moves one hand from Classless-7’s hip to his clit, running circles across it and pinching and pulling at the nub.
"Fuck!" Classless-7 throws his head back on the shout, moaning out something incomprehensible that O-6 doesn't care to know about.
The rest is a blur of nasty words, switched positions, angry slapping, biting, clawing, and bruising grips. Classless-7 couldn't recount the positions that were had, the number of times they'd done oral, how many times either of them orgasmed, or much of what else had been said. But, now, laying heavily across O-6's chest, softened dick weeping out of him, panting near matching O-6's own, reality seemed to come crashing down on him. And part of him… really had enjoyed that. He felt himself tense a bit, felt tears spring to the back of his eyes, and before he could stop it before he could get control of himself and find the energy to get up and leave, a sob tore threw his throat and that was all it took to send him into a breakdown, sobbing harshly into O-6's chest, because he was the only person there, near screaming with the misery he felt crashing on him. What had he done? And why? And why had he liked it?
O-6 simply let him cry for a while, unsure what he should do… unsure he should do anything. Was it really his place? He doubted it… look at what he'd turned Classless-7 into, look at what he'd done to his friend. His only friend. Still, he'd fucked up enough, and doing something now wouldn't fix that, it probably wouldn’t even make Classless-7 hate him less, that's not what he wanted anyway. It's better they hate each other. However, part of him, the part of him that still cared, knew he couldn't just leave Classless-7 to break down into his chest, naked and covered in the marks of a hate fuck. He takes a short breath.
Classless-7 almost doesn't register the strong arms coming to gather him into his chest, maneuvering his legs and body so his legs dangled off the arm of the chair on one side and his back lightly pressed into the other. One hand coming to rest in his hair, pulling his head into his chest, the other tightly wound around his waist. Classless-7 only registers what's happening when O-6's lips press lightly to the crown of his head. He cries harder and while he doesn't move to hold the other back, he shuffles in closer, allowing O-6 to hide what he could of him from the world.
"I'm not doing this in hopes you won't hate me anymore. It's better you keep hating me…" He doesn't expand further and knows he doesn't need to when Classless-7 nods weakly into his chest.
They would never get better. It would always be some fucked up push and pull, hate fucking in O-6's office, car, or fuck knows where else. But, now, at least, Classless-7 didn't feel like he was forced into the position. He'd given himself a voice, he'd given himself the power to stand up, and he'd keep taking that power from O-6 the way O-6 took weakness from him. Maybe that's why they'd always hate each other now, they saw in each other what they hated in themselves.