"It's obvious you have nooooooo idea what you're doing, Detective-chan. Look, see?"

Saihara thought he clicked the handcuffs on Ouma's thin wrists securely, as he had remembered doing to a few criminals in his time, but the boy had one hanging from his wrist with the other dangling uselessly not 10 seconds after Saihara had put them on in the first place. Ouma's smile was equal parts smug and mocking.

Saihara swallowed hard, averting his gaze to the floor and landing on Ouma's foot. He knew that round two would most likely be just as fair as round one when it came to it. At best, he could expect getting flustered up again by a few of Ouma's strangly breathy words, a few uncomfortable touches, and Ouma cutting him off and leaving as soon as he deemed Saihara embarrassed enough. But Ouma had promised to think up something even more exciting this time around, and by the time he broke out the actual handcuffs and a demand to put them on him, Saihara's concern and dread peaked.

"Ouma-kun, you're the one that wanted me to do this in the first place-"

"If you can't even handcuff an evil criminal leader, then you have no right to be calling yourself any kind of detective, Saihara-chan."

Ouma's face had fallen into utmost seriousness. Even if Saihara knew it was an inevitable ruse, the hairs on the back of his neck rose and against his better wishes his face flushed red.

"Kidding, kidding, just kidding!"

Before Saihara can groan about how that was yet another lie to play with his emotions, he's pushed onto the bed by Ouma's (now once again handcuffed by the wrists in front of him; he must've locked them again without notice) hands, falling flat onto his ass and only held upright by his hands splaying out and grabbing the covers.

"Don't worry, Saihara-chan, I told you it'd feel even better this time."

Where Ouma was being teasingly slow and coy the last time, this time Saihara was being jerked from place to place without rest by the boy. Ouma is on his knees in an instant, resting his chin on Saihara's knee like an expectant puppy and smirking up at his confusion and bewilderment.

He has no idea where Ouma gained the dexterity or experience as to be able to do this, but before he can resist or say "wait", Ouma is pulling the zipper of his pants down with his teeth. It's two quick, slightly panicked breaths before he feels the wetness of saliva soaking his thin underwear and movements of Ouma's tongue against the base his cock, and that's when Saihara realizes something has gone terribly, terribly wrong here because he is absolutely paralyzed by that feeling.

...There's no way he hasn't done this before, Saihara thinks as he looks at the ceiling fan, the canopy of the bed, and anywhere that isn't Ouma's head between his legs. He feels himself growing hard and uncomfortable against his boxers. The ever so slight and soft giggle he hears from his groin area confirms it, sending a rush of heat up his spine that pools in his face.

And as suddenly as he started, Ouma pulls his head away, stands up, and gives Saihara a smile that knows damn well exactly what he's leaving behind.

"Well, that's enough excitement for Saihara-chan's fragile heart, isn't it? You probably don't want to do anything else, right? See ya next week!"

He moves to stand up, hands still cuffed together in front of him, and against all better judgement, Saihara finds himself shooting his own hands out and placing them firmly on the other boy's shoulders.

"W-Wait, Ouma-kun!"

He stops himself before it becomes anything more than a gentle push down, lest he confirm a desire that he's not ready to confront yet, but Ouma's expression changes to sheer glee and he kneels back down regardless.

"No way! Is Saihara-chan finally taking a stand? Is he finally ready to play to win? How exciting!~"

His grin is almost as wide as his entire face as he leans his cheek against the inside of Saihara's thigh. There's an hurried excitement and eagerness to his expression at first, but it quickly falls away to a look of pure seriousness and challenge that meets Saihara's flustered gaze without hesitation.

"Take it out. Show me, then."

Even if he was calm at this point, there's no way he could've made shuffling down the waistband of his pants to his mid-thighs (and taking his shirt off, after Ouma's raised eyebrows indicated a "that's it?") graceful in any way. Nor could he make the awkward shifting of his hips and thighs to expose his naked, erect cock to Ouma's expectant stare dignified in the slightest.

The other boy's expression turns completely blank.

"Ah, you actually are a boy."

"W-What made you think I wasn't?!"

Ouma doesn't allow Saihara enough time to reclaim his dignity. Without any hesitation or shame, he pushes his head forward and slides the length of Saihara's cock into his mouth with an intentionally loud, wet sucking noise. His tongue drags up the shaft, lands on the tip and rolls over and around the head in drawn out, controlled licks, soft and breathy giggles coming from his throat. He makes bobbing his head down to take almost all of Saihara into his mouth look almost effortless, and the motion back upward is the opposite- tight, suctioned and quick.

It only takes two, maybe three repeats of this before Saihara feels his breath hitch and the muscles in his thighs start to clench. Its embarrassing how quickly he feels himself getting close to coming, and as a result he jerks his head back to the ceiling, closes his eyes tightly, and bites the bottom of his lip hard enough to keep any noises from slipping out.

Unfortunately for Saihara, this just means that Ouma suddenly pulling his head back once again and exposing his saliva-covered cock to the cool air is just that more surprising. He yelps slightly, looks down in a panic, and sees Ouma looking distinctly bored with the entire display.

"Mm, I've had enough of this. Let's do something else. I want to feel good too, you know."

Without any more explanation and leaving Saihara panting and paralyzed, Ouma climbs onto the bed past Saihara, flops his back down onto the covers, and stretches his handcuffed arms above his head.

"This is nooooooo fair, Saihara-chan. It's too hot in here, and you're the only one who's been allowed to take anything off. You've captured me, so I can't do it~ You'll have to~"

The demand is accompanied by a bounce of his hips. No matter how bored or whiny he manages to make that sound, Saihara feels as if Ouma has a chain around his neck and has been yanking him to and fro in every direction since they started with this "game". Now is no exception.

He collects himself with a breath, and with a slight nervous tremble to his hands and without looking at Ouma's face once during the whole process, takes off the rest of his pants, climbs over Ouma, and slides the boy's shirt over his arms and his head. Ouma's pants and boxers come off with a bit more hesitation and nerves behind his hands, but as soon as they are both in a state of matched nakedness, Ouma raises his arms to loop around Saihara's shoulders and pulls his head down. They're close enough for their noses to barely brush and Saihara finds his eyes landing immediately on Ouma's piercing stare.

"I don't want you looking away from me, Saihara-chan."

The feeling of cold steel against the back of his neck sends a jolt up his spine that raises every hair on his back along its path. Saihara swallows hard, feeling the pressure of Ouma's gaze, and sweeps his stare down and up Ouma's entire naked body before landing on his eyes again obediently.

Ouma has a narrow waist, pale and soft skin like a girl's, a thin neck and delicate-looking collarbones. Ask him a few weeks ago and he would've denied that it was anything close to the truth, but Saihara found the sight of it underneath him incredibly erotic. Now, after gently placing one hand on Ouma's waist, there were urges in him that were pushing past the embarrassment. The touch is received with a wide, lurid grin from Ouma.

"...Hey, last week I said you could do anything to me, didn't I? That wasn't a lie, Saihara-chan. What- are- you- going- to- do-?"

Each of the words in the last question is accompanied by a different motion of his body- it starts with him bending his knees to grip at either side of Saihara's waist, continues with raising his head upwards, dragging his tongue up Saihara's neck, reaching his ear and whispering the last “do” into it.

Saihara has to collect himself from the shudder all of that caused, before he can swallow hard, guide the hand on Ouma's waist down to his groin, and take both of their cocks into his hand. As hard as the demand was to keep his eyes on him, Saihara can't help but close his eyes as he begins to stroke both of them. The feeling of his hand and the friction against each other causes a shudder in his lungs and down his spine, and from the quiet noise Ouma made under his breath, Saihara can tell it felt the same for him as well.

"Ouma-kun, is this...?"

Ouma thrusts his hips into Saihara's hand once, twice, a giggle coming from his throat when he hears the soft pleased noise from the other boy as soon as he does it.

"...Hmm~...Good, but not good enough."

Licking up the shell of Saihara's ear and nibbling gently at his earlobe, Ouma ignores any attempts at taking control of the situation on Saihara's part and continues thrusting into his hand, relishing in the fact that each movement of his hips makes the other boy's eyes close tighter, his face turn a deeper shade of red, and his breaths to grow more strained.

"Do you get it now, Saihara-chan? What you should do?"

He can only manage a breathless "Um, yes" before he lands his eyes on the lube and condom placed conspicuously on the dresser beside the bed (and he definitely didn't notice them there when they started this; just how far ahead did Ouma plan and how sneaky was this guy), applies the condom and lube onto himself and Ouma, and with a deep, encouraging breath (to himself), positions himself and pushes himself into Ouma with a roll of his hips.

Ouma's reaction is dramatic and instant before Saihara can even begin to feel anything. He throws his head back into the pillow behind him, twists his head to the side and squeezes large, watery tears from his eyes as he lets out a loud, pained sob.

"A-Ah, Saihara-chan, it hurts, it hurts soooooo bad, I-I-"

"I-I'm sorry, Ouma-kun! I didn't know it would- I'll pull out-!" Saihara yelps out as he scrambles his hands everywhere and anywhere- Ouma's face, his waist, the bed itself, the handcuffs- before he sees the new expression on Ouma's face.

It's a snide, mirthful and tear-free sneer that seems to just revel in Saihara's panic.

"That was a lie. Do it hard or I'll start to think you're just a boring little bitch."

Something finally breaks in Saihara. Maybe it's constantly being jerked around by Ouma's whims, or being stopped in the middle of finally relaxing enough to feel pleasure repeatedly, or maybe it's just the mocking look on Ouma's face as he speaks, but he finds himself unrestrained by embarrassment, shame or hesitation. He sighs in a painful combination of frustration and repeatedly denied arousal, and begins thrusting into Ouma in controlled, rhythmic rolls of his hips. And finally, when the thrusts finally lull him into silence, Ouma lets out a noise that must be honest as a result of something Saihara did right- a pleased, breathy giggle that rolls into a soft moan.

Ouma's relieving stillness and silence as the thrusts push his body up and down the bed, and the pleasurable feeling the tightness that his body itself provides, is just enough for Saihara's frazzled nerves to calm themselves through a wave of arousal. Without thinking, one hand rests on the sheets while the other wraps itself around the back of Ouma's small head.

Ouma, unfortunately, isn't silent for too long. Though more breathy than before, his words are still firm. "That's... better, but still not quite there yet. You're still losing."

Using strength in his abdomen Saihara didn't even know he had and the handcuffed arms around his back, Ouma pulls himself up to a half sitting position with his lips not a centimeter away from Saihara's own.

"So let's change the game!"

There's another show of surprising strength and planned maneuvering on Ouma's part, and before Saihara even realizes it, they've changed position. He's now sitting back with Ouma practically sitting on his lap and dick, arms draped over his shoulders, knees bent at either side of his waist. In this position, he's close enough to see every detail in Ouma's lurid expression- (slightly sadistic) pleasure, excitement, arousal and anticipation all in one.

"Saihara-chan wasn't doing it well enough. As a supreme leader, I knew I had to take control."

He doesn't allow Saihara any time to speak or enjoy the change in position and friction, and instead begins to move his hips up and down, repeatedly, onto Saihara's dick without shame or hesitation. Saihara, in turn, is struck completely still by the rush of pleasure his movements send up his dick and thighs, and he can't help but wrap his arms around the boy's thin waist and help push him down every time Ouma's body moves downward.

"Is it better? Do you feel better when you don't have to take responsibility, Sai-hara-chan~?"

It's whispered in his ear, a combination of curious and mocking. Saihara's response is an barely restrained groan that's neither a yes or a no, a tightening of his grip around Ouma's waist, and desperate motions of his hips to match Ouma's own. Ouma grabs his own cock and begins to stroke it in time with his pushes and pulls into Saihara, giggling underneath his panting breaths.

He knows he's getting close, and that Ouma is too, when all talking stops and they're left struggling to breathe. The speed of Ouma's motions increases with each passing second, as does the speed at which the control of his groans and shudder falls apart, and in a rare moment of questionable vulnerability Ouma has to bite his lip to prevent something louder and more revealing from coming out. Behind his teeth he's breathing like he's running a race, barely restraining himself from moaning louder.

Amidst the pushing of his hips and ass and the breathy groans that begin to slip from his tightly bit lip, Ouma barely manages to half whisper, half choke a demand into Saihara's ear once again.

"...I'm almost getting tired of this, so just come already..."

After being denied the pleasure multiple times and finally having the opportunity, Saihara comes in a flash and with a actual, vocal moan into Ouma's ear, pure pleasure shooting up his thighs, through his cock and into the other boy. Finally, the other boy doesn't have time to complain, or mock him for coming on demand like an obedient dog, before the strokes to his own dick become faster and faster and he's rattling out a choked cry, biting down onto the skin of Saihara's neck, and letting a pleasurable shudder run down his entire body without restraint as he comes thick, sticky ropes of cum onto Saihara's stomach.

Saihara stays inside him for a moment, just breathing into his shoulder and letting the aftershocks of orgasm run through him. He slowly pulls his head back to say something about all of this- a stuttered thank you, maybe, or at least a confirmation that it felt good if he can't bring himself to thank him- but he's interrupted halfway by Ouma pushing his head forward and firmly pressing his lips into Saihara's.

...Maybe it's supposed to be appreciative, but he just blew him, had sex with him, denied him orgasm at least twice, mocked his attempts at fucking him, sat on his dick and came on his stomach, and Saihara realizes it is just now is the time Ouma decides to actually kiss him properly. After all of that.

What the hell, Ouma.

"Mm... But now it's hard, Saihara-chan. I don't know what do after all of this." He says as he pulls away from the kiss unceremoniously and without any acknowledgement of it whatsoever.

Saihara can't even look surprised at this point, desperately trying to recollect his breath and muddled thoughts. "For what?"

"Making it more exciting for next week."