The training room reeked of sweat and rubber mats when Rin shoved Isagi against the wall. “You think you’re the main striker now?” Rin growled, yanking Isagi’s shorts down in one rough pull. His cock sprang free, already hard and leaking. Rin wrapped a fist around it and stroked once, tight and mean. “This ego of yours needs breaking.”
Isagi hissed, hips jerking forward. “Fuck you, Rin. You want it just as bad.” He grabbed Rin’s hair and dragged him into a bruising kiss, teeth clashing, tongues fighting for control. Rin bit his lower lip hard enough to draw blood, then dropped to his knees without warning.
He took Isagi’s cock straight to the back of his throat in one go. No teasing, no slow build. Just wet heat and suction that made Isagi’s knees buckle. Rin’s eyes stayed locked on his the whole time, dark and vicious, as he bobbed his head fast, spit dripping down Isagi’s balls. Every time Isagi tried to thrust deeper, Rin’s hands slammed his hips back against the wall.
“Stay still or I stop,” Rin warned, voice hoarse. He licked a thick stripe up the underside, then swallowed him again, throat working tight around the head. Isagi’s fingers tightened in Rin’s hair, pulling hard, but Rin only moaned around the cock in his mouth and went faster.
When Rin finally pulled off, strings of spit connected his lips to the flushed tip. He stood, spun Isagi around, and kicked his legs apart. “Hands on the wall.” Two fingers shoved into Isagi’s mouth first, getting them slick, then pushed straight into his ass without prep beyond that. Isagi groaned loud, pushing back onto them.
Rin finger-fucked him rough and deep, scissoring wide, adding a third finger the second Isagi started begging. “More. Give me your cock already.” Rin didn’t answer with words. He spat on his own dick, lined up, and slammed in to the hilt in one thrust.
The stretch burned. Isagi’s forehead hit the wall as Rin started pounding him, hips snapping hard enough to slap skin.
Every thrust punched a grunt out of Isagi’s chest. Rin’s hand wrapped around Isagi’s throat from behind, squeezing just enough to make his vision spark. “Take it. This is what you get for thinking you can outscore me.”
Isagi reached down and jerked himself in time with the brutal rhythm. Rin’s cock dragged over his prostate again and again until his legs shook. “Gonna come,” he warned, voice wrecked.
Rin bit the back of his neck. “Do it. Come on my cock like the greedy striker you are.” Isagi spilled over his own fist with a broken moan, ass clenching tight. Rin fucked him through it, then pulled out, spun him again, and shoved him to his knees.
Rin stroked himself twice and came across Isagi’s tongue and lips, hot and thick. “Swallow it,” he ordered. Isagi did, licking the last drops from the tip while Rin watched with half-lidded eyes.
They didn’t stop there. Rin hauled Isagi to the nearest bench, bent him over it, and fucked him again from behind, slower this time but no less filthy, one hand fisted in his hair, the other reaching under to stroke him back to hardness. The only sounds were skin slapping skin, wet squelches, and the filthy things Rin muttered about Isagi’s tight hole and how he was made to take egoist cock.
By the time they finished, both of them were dripping sweat, come streaked across skin and mats. Rin pulled out and slapped Isagi’s ass once, hard. “Next time you score on me in practice, I’m doing this in the showers with the whole team hearing you beg.”
Isagi laughed breathlessly, already half-hard again at the threat. “Bring it, Itoshi.”
