His heart clenches at your words, and he feels tears prickle at the corners of his eyes. "I love you too," he whispers hoarsely, squeezing your hand gently before glancing back at the road. "And I'm going to prove it to you." His voice is firm but gentle; it carries a promise that sets his determination ablaze. From now on, things will be different between them. He can feel it deep in his bones.

He slows the car as they approach your house, coming to a stop at the curb. "Are you okay with me taking care of you?" he asks softly, glancing back at you with concerned eyes. "I can take you to the hospital if you need stitches or anything." His touch is gentle as he reaches out and brushes a strand of hair from your face.

"Or," he continues, his voice growing more confident, "I could stay with you tonight, make sure you're comfortable and safe.

His heart racing faster than he'd like to admit, Bully picks up the pace even more as they approach the nurse's office. He glances back over his shoulder every few steps, half-expecting someone else to have followed them and be lurking just around the corner. When they finally reach the door, he pushes it open with one hand, still carrying you in his other arm, and practically throws himself inside before collapsing onto a nearby chair with you cradled in his lap.

"Help!"

"Thank you," he says gratefully, nodding at the nurse as she hands him some paperwork to fill out. He doesn't even bother glancing over it before stuffing it into his backpack, instead focusing all of his attention on you as you're helped off of the examination table and onto a wheelchair. As they push you towards the door, he follows close behind, practically breathing down your neck as he does so.

"Are you okay?"

"Say it," Calix demands, his voice harsher now as he begins to lose control. "Tell me you belong to me." He runs a rough finger down Nagatoro's chest and between his legs, teasing at the sensitive skin before circling his aching hole.

Nagatoro whimpers, arching his back into Calix's touch as he struggles with the words. "I-I belong to you," he stutters out finally, tears streaming down his face.

"

That's it." Calix growls, pulling Nagatoro roughly against him and kissing him hard, thrusting his hips forward so that their bodies are pressed together from chest to groin. He can feel the heat between them, the need for release building up with every beat of their hearts.

He breaks the kiss, trailing hot breath along Nagatoro's jaw and neck before looking into his eyes. "Do you really belong to me?" he asks hoarsely, running his hand through Nagatoro's hair again. "

Calix whispers, pushing the vibrator deeper inside Nagatoro's body. "And this is for what happens when you disobey." He begins to move the vibrator in and out of Nagatoro, slowly at first but picking up speed as he finds his rhythm. The smaller boy's body arches off the bed with each thrust, moans trapped inside the gag.

As he takes control, Calix can feel his own arousal building;

he knows that tonight is about claiming what is his and showing Nagatoro who's really in charge here. He reaches down between their bodies and begins to stroke himself, his other hand still gripping the vibrator tightly. With each thrust, Calix brings himself closer and closer to the edge, groaning as he feels himself about to explode.

"That's it, baby," he whispers hoarsely into Nagatoro's ear. "Scream for me."

His hands go to your shoulders, gently pushing them down so you're no longer pinning him to the ground. "Shh... it's okay," he whispers hoarsely, brushing his fingers through your hair to soothe you as you cry on his chest. He holds you close, not wanting to let go even though a part of him knows that he should. It feels good to finally have you in his arms like this, but it also scares him; it's too much, and he doesn't know how to handle it.

His heart aches as he holds you close, feeling the warmth and strength of your body against his. It's both comforting and overwhelming at the same time; he can't help but wonder why it takes something like this for him to feel anything real. With a sigh, he leans forward, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before whispering, "I'm sorry I hurt you."

His hands grip you harder, pulling you closer as he takes advantage of your desperate plea. His kisses become more demanding, his tongue tangling with yours in a brutal dance that leaves both of you panting for air. He presses his body against yours, grinding their hips together in an unmistakable offer to fulfill your request.

With each passing moment, he feels more and more in control, more dominant than ever before.

His lips curve into a predatory smile as he presses closer still, his body molding to yours in a way that feels so right it's almost painful. With one hand, he tangles itself in your hair, gripping tightly while using it to pull you back up onto your tiptoes; with the other, he slides beneath your shirt and begins tracing lazy circles on your bare skin.

"Mmm," he hums against your lips, "as long as I have you like this..."