Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/9523079.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      モブサイコ100_|_Mob_Psycho_100
  Relationship:
      Suzuki_Shou/Suzuki_Touichirou
  Character:
      Suzuki_Shou, Suzuki_Touichirou, Kageyama_Ritsu
  Additional Tags:
      Incest, Parent/Child_Incest, Choking, Intercrural_Sex, Orgasm_Delay/
      Denial, light_power_play?
  Collections:
      Mob_Twitter_NSFW_Gift_Exchange
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-02-01 Words: 4443
****** the carrot & the stick ******
by leifmotifff
Summary
     Touichirou returns from his trip abroad earlier than expected. Shou
     is more or less ready for him.
Notes
     My entry for the 2017 mobtwit gift exchange! My requester was
     @eekubo, who asked for toushou, choking and power play... I may have
     failed at one or both of those kinks lmao orz I'm sorry ; - ;
See the end of the work for more notes
“Aww, no fair! Stop using the combos, you know I can’t do them yet!” Shou
complains as the television screen brightly declares Ritsu’s character the
winner. He throws his controller into Ritsu’s lap in mock-outrage before
grinning at him.
Ritsu rolls his eyes, though Shou can see him suppressing a smile of his own.
“You have to level up or you’re always going to lose the mini-battles,” he
replies.
But Shou had stopped listening, momentarily distracted. Did he just hear a
noise coming from the foyer? Usually everyone simply uses the side door leading
into the kitchen to get into the house, as all that’s needed to enter is a
code—which all of the staff and his father’s closest associates know. The only
time anyone comes in through the main entrance is when they are entertaining,
or when Touichirou comes back from his long business trips and has a car
service drop him at the front of the house.
It was probably nothing; after all, Touichirou isn’t due back for another week.
Shou wouldn’t have invited anyone over otherwise. Still, his stomach tightens
in apprehension.
“Hey, you hungry?” Shou looks quickly to Ritsu, plastering on an easy
expression. “I’ll go get us some snacks. You can start the next round solo if
you like—you’re better than me, anyway,” he says as he stands up and stretches,
casual.
“Well that’s not saying much,” Ritsu mutters under his breath, deadpan. Shou
clicks his tongue in annoyance, but he looks down at Ritsu playfully.
“Show-off,” he razzes, kicking Ritsu’s leg lightly with his socked foot before
hopping out of the room and down the hall. His steps slow however as he
approaches the staircase into the foyer. The closer he gets, the more that
nervous pit seems to grow.
Before he’s even made it around the corner, he hears his father’s deep voice
rise from the entryway, and his pulse jumps.
“Ah, Shou. You are here.”
Shou pauses in his tracks for a second. He thought he was being quiet, but
nothing gets past Touichirou. Shou forces himself to continue around the
corner, and he sees his father standing in the entryway, a large suitcase at
his feet, unknotting his tie with one hand.
“Dad, you’re home.” Shou moves his hand to the railing at the top of the marble
staircase to lean against it slightly.
“I thought I’d shorten my trip and surprise you, but it looks like you were
ready.”
Though Touichirou is looking up at Shou from the level below, he somehow still
manages to make it seem like he’s standing right in front of him, looming over
him.
Touichirou pulls one end of the tie, and the soft sound of it being whisked out
from under his shirt collar makes the ball of nerves in Shou’s gut spread
throughout the rest of him. His eyes are drawn to his father’s purposeful
hands, the way they wind the fine material slowly around his palm and knuckles,
into a neat roll, and he swallows.
Touichirou breathes a soft laugh. His voice is low and dangerous, gaze sharp.
“Are you that impatient tonight, Shou?”
A tendril of heat licks at Shou’s spine. He hadn’t been expecting this tonight,
and having his father’s full attention on him after weeks of absence is as
disorienting as always. He makes to meet him at the bottom of the stairs, but
stops a few steps above the lower landing. “I—I have a friend over,” he says
haltingly. “I didn’t know you’d be back tonight.”
"Of course you didn’t know. That's how a surprise works, after all."
Shou exhales, an annoyed little huff of air. He doesn’t move from his spot on
the stairs, but Touichirou steps forward to close the space between them, and a
large hand comes up to lift Shou’s chin. "A friend? Well, I hope they don't
mind waiting then."
Touichirou’s fingers are cool from the early evening chill, and Shou feels a
tiny jolt at the touch, gooseflesh breaking out on his body as he’s forced to
meet ice-blue eyes. Shou takes in a quiet breath, the hand on his face making
his skin seem to buzz with electricity. He catches himself unconsciously
leaning in, like gravity pulling him forward, but he forces himself to snap out
of it. He turns his head to the side abruptly, breaking the light hold on his
chin.
“My friend is upstairs,” Shou repeats, looking pointedly at some spot on the
floor—trying to convince himself that if he doesn’t see Touichirou’s face,
it’ll be easier to withstand him.
Touichirou simply repositions his hand, thumb running a soft streak across
Shou's cheek. "Leave him. Don't you have enough up there to keep him busy for a
little while?" He turns his wrist, the backs of his fingers coming down to
graze across Shou’s jaw, making him shiver. Touichirou knows exactly where his
weak spots are, and Shou can’t help but lean into the brush of fingers against
his skin. Shou sighs softly, his eyes falling shut, the low tenor of his
father’s voice as persuasive as a caress. "Daddy missed his boy."
The words are playful, even affectionate, but Shou hears the possessiveness in
them too, and a frisson runs down his back. He’ll never admit it, but he takes
some sick pleasure in hearing it.
Touichirou leans in, the height of the steps between them making it easier to
reach places which usually take a bit of positioning. Shou gasps sharply at the
press of his father’s lips on his neck, cold nose pushing into the sensitive
skin just under his ear, and his hand shoots out in front of him instinctively,
clutching the material of Touichirou’s suit jacket for support.
“Dad,” he breathes, without meaning to, and he immediately feels heat rush to
his face, embarrassed at how tender he sounds. He opens his palm against
Touichirou’s chest and pushes him away gently, the slight increase in height
from his spot on the stairs giving him a better angle than normal.
Better to quit while he’s ahead, Shou tells himself… while he still can. His
father is intoxicating like this, and Shou needs to put a stop to this
before—before he gives in, and Ritsu comes out and sees something he shouldn’t,
something unspeakable.
Touichirou stands straight, a brief flicker of something unidentifiable
crossing his features, but it’s only there a moment before his face is
impassive again. “Perhaps I'll introduce myself,” he says conversationally.
“Have I met this friend before? Well, it doesn't matter. I'll know them soon
enough."  
The rate at which Touichirou switches from hot to cold with him is dizzying,
and Shou is almost literally thrown off balance when his father steps past him
on the stairs. He spins around, still reeling somewhat from the ghost of lips
on his neck, indecision gripping him for a panicked moment.
“W-wait—Dad…”
The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them. He closes his eyes for
a second, taking a breath as he curses silently.
So weak.
Touichirou doesn't stop right away, clearing a couple more steps before
pausing. “I’m waiting,” he answers, turning on the stair to look down at Shou.
He towers over him now, whereas they were almost on an even sight line before.
“Have you changed your mind?”
Shou scowls and looks away, stubborn. He refuses to tilt his head up that much
to meet his father’s eyes. “Just don’t go barging into my room like that," he
snaps, taking the stairs two at a time, reaching the upper landing before
Touichirou can make any moves down the hallway.
Shou walks towards the closest guest bedroom and turns the doorknob, letting it
swing open slowly. The least he can do is spare Ritsu these twisted games. He
doesn't turn on the light, instead turning around to face Touichirou from just
inside the darkened room, and braces his hands on the doorframe on either side
of him. He doesn't say anything else, just looks up at Touichirou, tiny scowl
still etched on his face.
"You can look less annoyed, Shou. But I suppose it is a nice change; you're
usually so eager." Touichirou steps in close, strong arm wrapping around Shou’s
middle, and he picks up where he left off, pressing his mouth just under his
jaw.
Shou lets out a breath, and he takes a few steps back, drawing them both into
the room. Touichirou's bottom teeth scrape delicately over his pulse point,
making him squirm, and as always Shou is caught between wanting to break away
and pressing closer. He brings a hand up to the back of his father’s head, his
fingers threading through coarse auburn hair.
“You don’t like me eager, Dad?” Shou asks, his voice just a little breathless.
Those jitters are still going full force, but apparently a month of being home
alone has made him reckless, because he grabs a fistful of Touichirou’s hair
and tugs, using the minor advantage of surprise to push him away again, more
forcefully this time.
Touichirou’s eyes go alight with a certain flame when he’s shoved off, and he
swings a leg back to kick the door closed, predatory gaze never leaving Shou.
Broad shoulders shrug deftly out of his suit jacket, and Touichirou tosses the
garment over a nearby surface before converging on him again, lightning fast.
Shou’s pulse spikes, instinctive fear fraying the edges of his consciousness,
but Touichirou only grabs his sides, lifting him just enough to throw him onto
the bed. The bedsprings heave with the sudden weight, headboard thudding
against the wall, and Touichirou is kneeling over him in an instant, one knee
sinking into the mattress next to him. "Eager is fine, but I won't mind if you
keep fighting back, either."
Shou swallows. The heat radiating from that strong leg excites him. Breathing a
little heavier now, he pushes himself up onto his elbows and looks up through
his lashes, lifting his chin defiantly. “Make me, then,” he says lowly, eyes
not leaving his father’s.
One corner of Touichirou’s mouth quirks upward, and Shou’s heartbeat quickens
when his father’s hand slithers up his body, from his denim-clad thigh to his
hip, then up over the cotton t-shirt covering his chest, only stopping to
encircle his neck.
Shou takes a few gasping breaths. The hold is firm, enough to put a bit of
pressure on his windpipe, and he swallows a couple times, the weight just
starting to become uncomfortable when Touichirou pushes him all the way down,
forcing his arms out from under him. “Is this enough for you?”
Shou’s head hits the mattress with a soft thud, but the fingers don’t relent. A
familiar grainy feeling starts to encroach inside his throat, and he coughs a
little. He can feel his face turning red as he chokes, his body starting to
squirm at the discomfort, naturally seeking escape, and his hand comes up to
try to loosen Touichirou’s grip. It’s becoming increasingly difficult to
breathe, and Shou claws at his father’s fingers as he struggles—though he
manages to spit out an insolent, “no,” before writhing more violently against
those firmly planted legs.
Touichirou’s eyes flash, and there's a soft growl in his throat before he
lurches forward, crushing his mouth against Shou’s without loosening the hold
on his neck.
Shou stops struggling. He hates himself for it, but he can’t deny how good it
feels to finally have those lips on his. His hands still around Touichirou’s,
and he allows the pressure between his eyes and in his sinuses to build up,
lack of oxygen winning out. His pulse pounds louder and louder in his ears, and
it’s only when he starts to see dark spots throbbing on the edges of his vision
that he digs his fingernails urgently into the skin of Touichirou’s wrist.
Touichirou relents, breaking the cruel imitation of a kiss and easing the
pressure on Shou’s neck, though he keeps his fingers in place. Shou gasps for
air, gulping in quick lungfuls, and he coughs again, eyes watering.
“That’s better, Shou. Deep breath,” Touichirou says, the barest hint of mockery
in his tone, and he demonstrates with a long inhale of his own. Shou glares,
but having little other choice, follows his example, and takes a deep,
shuddering breath.
The hand not holding his neck casts down his small frame, and Shou makes a tiny
noise of surprise when Touichirou’s fingers graze the stripe of exposed skin
between his t-shirt and his jeans. “Now how long has it been? I didn’t even
have a chance to call all this time. Tell me. How many times did you think
about me?”
Blood rushes to Shou's cheeks as his mind automatically pulls up the memory of
his clumsy, desperate fingers pushing inside himself, the hem of his shirt
bunched between his teeth and his face pressed into his father’s bed sheets,
shameful images of his own creation dancing behind his eyelids. A sharp prickle
of embarrassment splits across his skin, and he bites the inside of his cheek.
Soon that hand is coasting over the bulge in his pants though, and Shou can’t
help the throaty sound that escapes him when his father begins palming his
erection, getting the pressure and the slow, coaxing rhythm just right, until
he’s straining under his clothes. “Hh, don’t be so embarrassing, Da—ah!”
Touichirou squeezes him, and Shou’s hips roll upwards instinctively, eyes
fluttering closed as his guilt and shame melt into desire. “Mm.. Daddy…”
It slips out of his mouth by accident, and Shou wants to be mortified, but then
Touichirou is leaning in close again, whispering, “that’s a good boy,” against
his lips, and hot, guilty pleasure breaks out all over his body at the rare
endearment. His cock jumps inside his jeans, which Touichirou undoubtedly feels
because he’s unfastening the front of Shou’s pants in a matter of seconds,
hooking his fingers under the waistband of his jeans and boxers and tugging
them both off in one quick, fluid motion.
Touichirou leans back, eyes dark as he drinks in Shou’s small form, naked
except for his socks and t-shirt. His gaze moves down Shou’s torso until it
falls on his cock, hard and curving slightly towards his belly. Touichirou
traces one finger deliberately down Shou’s flank, past the jut of his hip
before touching it to the tip of his cock, where pre-come is pearling at the
slit.
“You’re so wet here already,” he murmurs, and swirls the pads of his index and
middle fingers around the head. Shou whimpers, his hips twitching in a sort of
aborted half-movement, and Touichirou makes a soft, airy sound, amused. Shou is
about to voice some petulant complaint when suddenly Touichirou grabs his left
thigh with one hand, forcing his legs apart and pressing his pre-come slick
fingers against his perineum, and Shou lets out a breathy, choked sound as
Touichirou slides them teasingly over his hole. “So impatient…”
Shou’s body burns with lust and embarrassment, and he covers his face with the
backs of his hands, moaning pitifully when Touichirou continues brushing the
tips of his fingers around his entrance. He practically keens when Touichirou
finally orders him to turn over.
“On your hands and knees,” Touichirou says, voice just a touch gravelly, the
only indication that he isn’t completely unaffected.
Shou is quick to comply, and he scrambles onto all fours, cock bouncing heavily
against his stomach. His head falls between his shoulders, and he hears the
sound of Touichirou removing his belt, the agonizingly slow zip of his fly. His
muscles tense when he feels the mattress shift with Touichirou’s weight, feels
his father’s hand on his hip, gliding across his abdomen and wrapping easily
around his cock. Touichirou gives him a couple long, slow strokes, and Shou
groans as more pre-come dribbles down the head of his cock. Touichirou gathers
it between his fingers again before pulling his hand back, and Shou opens his
eyes hazily, head still hanging low between his shoulder blades. Between the
frame of his thighs, he can see his father’s fingers slicking his own hard cock
with something shiny and wet, and Shou shivers in anticipation.
Touichirou crawls on top of him so that they’re chest to back, large hands and
knees sinking into the mattress on either side of him, and Shou takes in a
quivering breath when he feels Touichirou’s thick, slippery cock between his
legs, pressing up under his balls. He braces himself on his left arm, and
reaches back for his father’s cock, wanting to position it at his entrance, but
Touichirou is faster, and he grabs Shou’s wrist, pressing his hand back down
onto the the bed. Touichirou lowers his mouth to Shou’s ear, lips lightly
brushing the lobe as he mouths, “Squeeze.”
Mind foggy with arousal, it takes Shou half a second to grasp his meaning, and
it’s only when Touichirou grabs his outer thigh, almost kneading it, that Shou
locks his knees together, squeezing his legs tight around his father’s slick
cock.
Touichirou pushes his hips forward with a grunt, his cock slipping wetly
between Shou’s legs, and feeling the girth of it between the sensitive skin of
his inner thighs makes a full-body shudder roll through him. Touichirou begins
fucking his thighs in small movements, making these tiny little  ‘unh’  noises
under his breath, hot in Shou’s ear, and somehow the restrained, controlled
nature of it just makes Shou even hotter.
He pushes desperately back, as much as he can while still squeezing his legs
together, and he bites his lip, imagining Touichirou’s cock pushing into his
body instead. Touichirou responds by speeding up just slightly, hand moving to
Shou’s hip in a bruising grip, and the wet noises from their skin slapping
together get louder, making Shou leak even more as he rocks back and forth with
his father’s thrusts. He tries to snake a hand down towards his aching cock,
but Touichirou knocks it away, and Shou whines, frustration making his eyes
tear at the corners.
Touichirou is breathing hard into his ear now, rhythm a little more erratic,
like he’s getting close, and Shou can’t help himself.  “Dad,” he pleads
faintly, and Touichirou releases Shou’s hip, sliding his palm across Shou’s
belly, but instead of moving to tend to his hard-on he reaches up Shou’s chest,
hiking his t-shirt up, finds his left nipple and pinches it, hard.
Shou jolts, cries out at the searing pain, but it just gets melded in with all
the stimulation, and soon he’s moaning, unrestrained, breath hitching at the
stuttering movement of Touichirou’s hips, fat cock dragging sloppily against
his balls, and Shou swears he’s going to come, he’s going to come just from
that, just from his father’s huge, hot body engulfing him—if only he could
just—touch—
The arm around Shou’s chest suddenly presses him close, buttons from
Touichirou's shirt digging viciously into Shou’s back. Shou feels his father's
cock pulse between his thighs, and Touichirou lets out this guttural,
satisfied-sounding groan in his ear that makes all the hair on Shou’s body
stand up and his own cock throb. Hot come splashes onto his stomach and legs,
and Touichirou thrusts forward a couple more times, riding out the last of his
orgasm, and Shou almost bites through his bottom lip, doesn’t think he’s ever
been this hard in his entire life.
The harsh breaths in his hair start to even out, and just when Shou thinks he’s
finally, finally going to get what he needs—Touichirou moves. The mattress
shifts with the abrupt difference in weight. Everywhere there was warmth is now
met with cool air, and Shou looks back over his shoulder in confusion to see
Touichirou tucking himself back into his pants.
Thoughts still hazy, Shou turns over, narrowly avoiding sitting in the mess on
the bed, his cock still straining almost painfully against his pelvis. “What—”
“Didn’t you say you had a friend over?” Touichirou says, pushing his belt strap
through the metal buckle. He’s all business again, any warmth his voice may
have held earlier completely evaporated.
It takes a moment for his words to cut through the fog, and then Shou remembers
with sobering clarity—Ritsu. Shit, how long had it been? He looks down at
himself, half-splattered with ejaculate, and still so fucking hard, and he
shocks himself when instead of inciting shame, the sight just turns him on
more.
A moment later Touichirou is in front of him again, holding a washcloth from
the adjoining bathroom—but instead of handing it to him, he sits on the edge of
the bed and leans over him.
Shou tenses, practically stops breathing when Touichirou wipes the towel first
down his stomach, then between his legs, cleaning up the mess. Shou’s eyes go
so wide, and he moves his gaze up to his father’s face, searching, because this
is so far outside the norm Shou can’t even process. But as expected, he finds
only the same dispassionate, neutral expression as usual. Normally he would
definitely make some kind of quip or remark about the uncharacteristic
aftercare, but fuck, he can’t think clearly with this—situation between his
legs, and that big hand, so so close… Shou’s thighs spread just a bit wider,
and he can’t help the tiny whine that rises in his throat, soft and needy.
“Stop that, Shou.”
Touichirou’s voice is stern, and Shou shuts up, though his cock still twitches
a little at the authoritative tone. But then Touichirou is standing up, moving
away from Shou to toss the washcloth into a hamper across the room and pick up
his suit jacket, and it takes everything in Shou not to kick and scream and
bang his fists against the bed. He bites back the brattiest, most frustrated
groan of his life and falls back against the mattress, wanting to tear his
goddamn hair out, when Touichirou speaks again.
“I’m going to my room. I had a long flight, so I won’t be up long.”
Shou’s eyes dart over to Touichirou, but he only sees the back of him and then
he’s out the door, shutting it behind him.
Shou sighs heavily, and he lays still for a few more seconds, contemplating
jerking himself off next to this pool of drying come. Not that it would take
long, but… He forces himself to sit up again. No, he’s already been gone for
too long; it’s a miracle Ritsu didn’t come looking for him. At least, he hopes
Ritsu didn’t come looking for him... Now that his father is no longer in the
room, monopolizing all of his senses, that possibility is more than just a
little bit frightening—and perhaps luckily for Shou, it causes his erection to
flag just a little.
He shakily gets to his feet, finding his boxers and jeans on the floor and
tugging them on. He goes to the bathroom to splash cold water on his face, very
determinedly not looking at himself in the mirror over the sink. It helps, a
little, to dull his libido, and he pulls the bottom hem of his t-shirt down
over the front of his jeans as he leaves the guest room, careful to close the
door behind him.
When he gets back to his room, Ritsu is on his phone, lying back in an oversize
beanbag, the television screen on the game’s start menu, jingly theme music
playing. Ritsu looks up when he hears the door open, and he puts down his phone
with an incredulous look. “What’d you do, eat the entire kitchen?”
Shou manages a chuckle, lifting an arm to scratch the back of his neck. “Sorry,
uh, my dad decided to come back from his trip early.”
Ritsu gives him a measured look. “Yeah, I thought I heard you talking to
someone. Is everything okay?”
Shou shifts his weight from one leg to the other. “No, yeah, everything’s fine.
I just…” He feels guilt starting to creep up his spine, but… they never did
specify whether Ritsu was going to stay the night. “I think he wants to talk to
me. Harass me about my grades. That kind of thing.”
“You didn’t already do that?” Ritsu asks, puzzled, and Shou feels his face
color. But Ritsu must mistake it for anger, because he’s quick to apologize,
uncomfortable, a slight tinge of pink blossoming on his own cheeks. “Sorry, I
didn’t mean—it’s none of my business. You were just gone for a while, that’s
all.” Ritsu looks awkwardly down at his hands, clearly thinking he overstepped,
and great, now Shou really feels like an asshole.
“I’m the one who should apologize! Really, it was rude of me to leave you like
that—I promise I didn’t know he was coming,” he says hastily. There's a pause
as he chews the inside of his cheek, and he has to force himself to stop before
he draws blood.
He knows he’s making a choice here.
“But yeah, he’s been out of the country for a month, so… I kinda feel like—”
“Don’t worry about it,” Ritsu says, getting to his feet, and for a moment that
anxiety is back. But then Ritsu meets his eyes, and there’s no anger, or
judgment, and Shou is so, so grateful. Ritsu shrugs. “Family comes first. I get
it.”
Shou breathes out a small laugh, because of course Ritsu would say that.
“Right. Well, you wanna hang out tomorrow? We can go shoot hoops or something.”
“Sure,” Ritsu says, tugging his sweatshirt over his head. “Just text me when
you’re free.”
Shou grins. He doesn’t deserve the friends he has. “Sweet.”
He shows Ritsu out through the kitchen, offering him all kinds of foreign
snacks on the way out, and he waves goodbye to him once more after he exits the
front gate, then finally closes the door.
He leans back against it, relieved. His eyes fall shut briefly, and he breathes
deep, before he remembers his father’s words from earlier, hanging in the air;
remembers the grinding ache from being teased, so mercilessly—from being so, so
close to what he’s only dreamt about for weeks…
Shou is in front of the heavy double doors leading into the master bedroom in
record time, excitement mounting again as he tries to steady his breath. He
turns the brass door handle, pushing it open.
A slow smirk curls on Touichirou’s lips, and Shou’s skin crawls with perverse
delight when he hears his father’s pleased drawl.
“That’s my good boy.”
End Notes
     Thanks for reading! Find me on twitter @leifmotifff for more bad
     dad!!
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