With a little help from your friends (the help is praise kink and the friend is your boyfriend)
Who would have thought that fucking your boyfriend senseless cures dysphoria.
Alternatively: being a dom is actually something that can be so gender,
Fandom: It Lives (Visual Novels)
Pairing: Andy Kang/Tom Sato
Additional tags: let's see, mild mentions of transphobic and racist comments, Comfort Sex, the filthiest comfort sex uve ever seen but WHATEVER, dom andy kang, sub tom sato, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Dom/sub Play, Collars, Praise Kink, basically someone says transphobic shit and then tom rides him and talks about how wonderful andy is, except tom has also been in denial for a few days and he's super horny, and andy gets in domspace and everything is great and nothing hurts, Fluff and Smut, Humor, cuz u know these two are incapable of taking anything too seriously, Established Relationship, oh they're both in college and they go to the same college cuz i said so, set after the events of it lives beneath, that's it I think, trans author if that matters to you
Read it on Ao3
Andy isn't having a great day. It's not a terrible, clawing-at-his-chest-trying-to-deal-with-dysphoria kind of day, but he's been trying out this "not comparing everything to the worst possible scenario" thing his therapist has been talking about, so still, not a great day.
The thing is, he thought college would be easier. And it is, in a lot of ways. For starters, there is no evil monster spectre trying to kill him, which gives college at least 5 points over high school. And his uni has a pretty solid queer club, so he knows other trans people there. Some of them are even non-white. Some of them he even actually, truly likes. And most of the time, he feels like he has a place to turn to, and people to support him. He's not alone. He has people who get him. And that makes all the difference.
But basketball is still a nightmare, and his knee still hurts when it's cold, and winter is officially starting now.
People still hesitate to pass the ball to him, and it's frustrating, because Andy fought so hard to earn his old team's trust and now he's back at square zero. And well, Andy has been gaining this team's trust, because he's good, goddamn it, and his team owes at least the last three victories to him. He's not hesitant to say that, especially because otherwise no one will. And he can see that they look at him differently now - nod at him in the hallways, at least, talk to him in the locker room, pass him the fucking ball if his position is very, very open.
But if he weren't trans and Asian, he wouldn't have had to work so hard to get all of that - or well, just that, really. He has a full sports scholarship despite the fact that he had a broken leg, had to retake his last year of high school, and doesn't even have the body type for basketball. If he weren't Asian, if he weren't trans, his team would have assumed his greatness from day one. Instead, he has to show it to them time and time again only to get them to reluctantly admit maybe he's not bad. No one calls him "triple threat" anymore, but he still has to work three times harder than anyone else, and it's frustrating.
And usually Andy can deal with it, but right now his knee hurts, and he can't afford that because he'll lose everything he's worked for if his teammates know that his fucking knee hurts. So, he braved training and then he got the fuck out of there without even changing so no one would see him wince. Which means he's still in basketball shorts, which are short, in the cold, which means his leg hurts more.
At times like these, he's thankful he never got the chance to go through with his promise to break his other leg kicking Noah's ass. Because he would have, and then both his legs would be hurting right now, and two legs that hurt every time it's cold is just too many legs.
No comparing to the worst possible scenario, he tells himself. Therapy is so hard. If he had known there would be homework, he would have thought twice about going.
And that's, apparently, the cue for his phone to go off. Andy smiles, knowing who it is even before he opens the message, because only one person messages him during class, and it's the only person he wants to hear from right now.
Tom <3 sent you a message
Grinning like a fool, he opens it.
Tom <3: dude, im horny af rn. the fuck
Finally, good news, Andy thinks, smiling. Then he remembers why Tom is so horny, and suddenly this day is great, actually.
He quickly types a reply.
You: who wouldve thought that 3 days of denial would make this happen
Tom <3: ill have u kno i was very good at holding it together before today
You: yeah, dw. soon u wont have to hold it anymore ;)
Tom <3: that flirt was terrible, dude
You: said the guy whos calling me dude for the second time in this conversation
Tom <3: what else should i call u? 😩
Andy thinks for a second. Tom and him do longer-term denial every once in a while, but they aren't in a 24/7 relationship. Does Andy really want to go there right now? Yes. Well, that was fast. Okay then.
You: how about "sir"
Tom's reply comes fast as lightning.
Tom <3: Yes, Sir.
Andy smirks at himself.
You: uve been hoping that id say that, havent u?
Tom types for just a little longer this time.
Tom <3: Yes, Sir.
Many things are wrong with the world, and Andy doesn't mean to make light of the other things, but the fact that Andy can't simply go and fuck his boyfriend whenever he wants is definitely one of them. It should be, like, financial compensation or something. We're so sorry the school environment is transphobic, here, have a free sex pass. Sounds fair to him. But instead, he still has two hours of classes to go through, and Andy is a better guy than he wishes he was, so he tells Tom to pay attention to class instead of sexting him, because he doesn't want Tom to struggle even more with his course when he had already had to leave it once. God damn true love or whatever.
The point is, by the time classes are finally over, his day is back to not being that great; he's tired, and his leg hurts. He gets to their car after Tom does, and Tom takes one look at him, and says, "I'm driving".
Andy crosses his arms. "Why?"
"Because your leg hurts," Tom answers, rolling his eyes and taking Andy's bag from him and putting it in the trunk.
Andy looks down at his legs. He wasn't limping. There aren't any bruises. How the hell-
"It's cold and you're in shorts. I'm not an idiot, dude."
Right. Yeah. Right. Of course. Tom knows. It's… It's alright.
"Bad day at training?" Tom asks, slowly, sympathetically, and Andy feels himself settle in his skin a little bit.
"The usual," he answers, getting inside, and, as always, Tom gets the hint.
Their uni's dorms are gender-segregated because these guys have still not gotten the memo that people of the same gender fuck; and Andy wasn't willing to deal with cis college guys' bullshit, much less cis college girls' bullshit; and the uni wouldn't let him simply pick Tom as his roommate. So, they rented out a beat up apartment right next to it instead. It took a little longer to get there, but it wasn't a lot longer, and well, it was worth it.
Tom gets inside, still carrying Andy's bag because he's transphobic and unfair and had taken it and bolted up running so Andy wouldn't have a chance to argue with him. And Andy can't run after him with his leg hurting, which kind of proves Tom's point that he should carry Andy's bag. All in all, Tom is the worst, and he turns up the heat as soon as he gets inside and sits Andy down on the bed, kneeling in front of him to take a look at Andy's knee.
He's silent for a while, massaging his knee until Andy sighs and throws his head back, before Tom plants a little kiss on his knee and looks up at him. Andy's knee always stops hurting when Tom kisses it better. It's a little embarrassing, if Andy is being honest, but still- nice. Really nice.
They stay for a little longer like this, Tom humming and massaging his knee and Andy not meeting his eyes, until the question inevitably comes.
"What happened?" Tom asks, not letting up with the smooth movements of his hands, his eyes big and sincere with worry.
"Nothing. Just the cold. You know how my knee gets."
"I meant, for you to leave practice without putting some warmer clothes on."
Andy looks away. "It was nothing."
"Dude, are you expecting me to go, 'okay, yeah, that totally makes sense and I believe you', or…?"
Andy laughs, despite himself, and throws his good leg up in an almost-kick to pretend he's retaliating. "Don't be an ass."
"I'm not. Come on, Andy. You know you can tell me."
"It's nothing, it's just- Kyle-"
Andy laughs. "Yeah." But then he grows serious, "the thing is, he doesn't mean any harm, you know? I know he's not saying it to hurt me, and so that just means that, like... that it's true."
Tom's hands stop their movements, rubbing soothing circles around his knee instead. "What did he say?"
Andy doesn't look at him. "He asked me why I didn't stay on the women's team. Said that I could have an advantage, cuz Asian people are androgynous anyway, so no one would notice that I was taking hormones."
Tom just stares at him in shock for a moment.
"And I was like, 'dude, I've been on T for three years, I'm pretty sure they would notice the changes'. And he was like, 'yeah, but you still look like a lot of Asian girls with short hair, you could write it off if you wanted', and I just…" He trails off.
Tom waits in silence for a second, seeing if Andy finds his words, before asking, "Is Kyle, like, okay?"
Andy scoffs. "I didn't try and fight him, if that's what you're asking."
"No, I mean, does this dude have a screw loose or something?"
"He's very bad at figuring out what is or isn't offensive, yeah, but it's not like he really cares, he just won't go out of his way to antagonize me."
"No, I just- Andy, even when you were a little kid with huge pigtails, anyone would have to be crazy to see you as a girl."
Andy bites the inside of his lip. "You're just saying that."
"I'm not. It's just wrong, man. It was so obvious that it was wrong. Anyone could tell. There's nothing about you that says 'girl' to anyone who's looking."
Andy sighs, finally risking looking at Tom's eyes. There's overwhelming sincerity there, and Andy instinctively looks away. "I guess. Maybe. I don't know. It just got me thinking... Maybe T didn't change anything. Maybe I look exactly the same, maybe it was just hopeful thinking that had me thinking it would change anything, maybe it's just- pointless to even try-"
"No, no, come on," Tom says, and the interruption is so sudden it makes Andy look at him again, just in time to see Tom shaking his head vigorously. "There's no way you believe that. What about this bad boy over here?" He smiles, reaching out softly to caress Andy's neck. "You have more of an Adam's Apple than me, dude. And we both know you don't need T to be a guy, but thinking it made no difference is just crazy and you know it. What about those dry pecs? These broad shoulders of yours? Your voice, I mean, come on. You even smell different, man. How can it be pointless, if even your scent is different?"
Andy looks to the side again, but he can feel himself smile. "Well, when you put it like that..."
Tom gets up, but stays close, putting his hand on Andy's cheek, slowly, as if testing the waters, before turning him slightly to look at him. "Andy. Kyle is an idiot and a transphobic racist who's too damn lazy to realize how fucked up he is. And you shouldn't have to deal with that, and I'm sorry, and I will set him on fire."
Andy laughs. "You can't keep threatening to set every shitty teammate I have on fire."
"I can, because it keeps making you laugh," Tom says, smiling. Well. Andy can't argue with that. "My point is, you wouldn't listen to a word this dude says if it were about anyone else, so don't listen to him when he talks about you, okay? T or no T, you're no girl, and you don't look like a girl, and regardless of whether or not Kyle's dumb ass noticed it, your transition has been doing you good. Remember when your voice started to crack and get all weird? I've never seen anyone be that happy about it."
Andy laughs. "It was pretty awful."
"No, it was great, 'cause you loved it. Do you want me to pull out the 'before' pictures we took in case this happened? Look at yourself, dude. You fit so much better in your own skin, you know? And like, you've always been gorgeous, but-"
"Come here," Andy interrupts, pulling him down because Tom is standing and Andy is sitting and Andy is already height-challenged. And Tom goes willingly, carefully straddling Andy's lap and meeting him in a kiss. Finally, Andy thinks.
Tom kisses him softly, slowly, one hand resting on the back of Andy's head and the other draped lazily over his shoulder, as he usually does, all gentle and a little hesitant, and Andy is having none of that. So he grabs Tom's hair and deepens the kiss, bringing him closer until their chests are flushed together and he can feel Tom's hips mindlessly making little circles against Andy's belly.
They separate - or well, stop kissing, really, because Tom is still as close to Andy as physically possible, and Andy feels about ready to shoot anyone who tries to push him further away. Tom's a little breathless, and his hips are still making these almost imperceptible movements against Andy, and Andy realizes that he's still grabbing Tom's hair and that he's a little breathless, too.
Tom looks down at him for a second, as if debating something with himself, before saying, "and like, not to be horny during a serious moment, but since we're talking about the effects of T... Andy. Andy. Your clit. Fuck. It's so huge now, and it's got a visible head and you can fuck my face and everything, and I could sing it praises for a week and probably will if you don't stop me right now."
"Hmm, but I like it when you sing me praises," he smiles. "Keep going."
"God, I was hoping you'd say that. Do you have any idea how much I've been thinking about it today? I didn't hear a single word anyone said to me, all I could think about was you fucking my face, pulling my hair, making me worship you and beg to be allowed to suck you off, I wanna serve you like you're my God." Tom's hips start to jerk up, more visibly this time, shameless, and see, this is why Andy's been really, really liking this whole denial thing - Tom has only started to explore his subby side recently, a little ashamed of it to admit it to anyone, even himself. But when he's horny enough, he gets shameless and desperate about what he wants, and god, nothing is more beautiful than Tom when he asks for what he wants. He feels something growing inside of him, not sure if it's warmth or heat, but seeing Tom like that, wanting him, needing him, definitely makes him feel so much better.
"Yeah?" Andy asks, tracing a finger over Tom's shoulder, close to his neck, just to give him goosebumps.
"Fuck yes, I want it so bad, and you deserve it too, Andy… Sir. You're the best Sir I could ask for, I just want… Want you to use me, want you to cum on me, want to kiss you all over and worship you and pleasure you, you're so gorgeous..." He hides his face in Andy's shoulder for a bit, but his hips don't stop moving. He whines, "Andy..."
"Address me properly," Andy snaps, feeling the edges of worry clear from his mind and giving way to that wonderful feeling of clear-mindedness, of power, where nothing matters but his own pleasure. "And maybe I'll give you what you want, if you earn it."
Tom nods, hips full on thrusting now, and Andy snaps again. "Stay still."
And he does, immediately, without question, biting his lip and keeping his eyes shut with effort. Andy can feel his thighs clenching and spasming over his, trying to keep himself from moving, trying to be good. He hums in appreciation, but doesn't praise him for it, not yet.
"I'll get you ready," Andy explains, before reaching to Tom's hair, and starts to undo his bun, as slow as possible, just to watch him squirm. He gets so impatient when Andy undresses him, which is why Andy never misses a chance to drag it out.
He begins by removing Tom's jacket, sliding his hands slowly over his shoulders, then down his back, feeling the firm muscle there, digging his nails just a little bit so he can see Tom's eyes flutter in bliss. When the jacket falls to the floor, Andy begins circling the hem of his shirt, sliding until his hands are back on front, fingers just close enough to Tom's cock for him to feel Tom tense in his hands, so damn sensitive to his touch, so needy. God, he can't get enough of this, but he pretends that he doesn't notice, lets Tom try and keep himself together as Andy's hands slide over his belly, then chest, over the shirt, collarbone, wrapping and resting on Tom's throat just so he feels the threat of it, before Andy finally grabs the back of the shirt's collar and tugs, taking it off. Then he slides his hands back down, making sure to run a finger just over the sensitive spot where his pecs end, then lower, over his ribcage, belly, hips, next to the bruises where Andy had grabbed him the night before, then back to the middle, just over the bulge in his pants, and Tom finally breaks and jerks up slightly, letting out a little moan.
"Sir," he whines, "please, please, I-" Andy continues to circle the head of his cock with his finger, "please!"
"Patience," is all he says, before going back to his painfully light movements, imagining Tom's needy cock twitching under his fingers, imagining the effort Tom makes not to thrust up or keep begging for more, just because Andy told him not to. "You know how much I like playing with your pretty little cock. You said you wanted to serve me, didn't you?"
"Yes- yes, Sir."
He hums, noncommittally, not looking at him. "Good." He teases the tip of his clothed cock some more, enjoying the way his mind zeroes on that, the way he feels like he has all the power and the time in the world. Finally, he pats Tom's thigh once. "Get off, and take off the rest of your clothes. Get the lube and a condom."
Tom gets up, a little shaky, and does as instructed, while Andy reaches down to the drawer under the bed where he keeps his dick's spine and a few of their toys. He gets the spine, then adjusts his packer briefs so he can put it on - best purchase of his life, really, those briefs. So much easier to use than a regular strap-on and it makes the packer sit over his clit just right, making a little suction and pressure. Andy couldn't be happier that he was already wearing them.
Tom gets back with everything he asked right in time for Andy to finish making his dick hard, and goes on to put the condom on and cover Andy's cock in lube with the kind of attention that makes Andy hold his breath. Tom's so careful, yet eager, and adoring, about it. Andy feels like the hottest guy in the world.
Once he gets permission, Tom sits on his cock, slowly, getting adjusted to it - admittedly, Andy went a little overboard when he bought his first cock. Andy waits until Tom is fully seated, littering his neck with little kisses and praise for how well he's taking him, how pretty he looks, until Tom looks fully comfortable and ready to start complaining if Andy doesn't start fucking him in earnest soon. That's when Andy shows him the other item he pulled from the drawer - Tom's favorite collar.
Tom's reaction is instantaneous. He throws his head back, moving over Andy's cock as he lets out a breathless, almost choked moan; the hands he had resting on Andy's shoulders suddenly squeezing full force in his need.
"God, you're such a whore," Andy says, casually, and Tom nods, even as he flushes. The collar is just a simple black one, with a little hoop for the leash, but inside they had it engraved with the words Andy's whore, and it left visible marks that could be seen for a few hours after they took it off. It never failed to drive Tom crazy, so it always drove Andy crazy, too. "Stay still," he warns, and Tom nods, breathing heavily, gripping Andy's shoulder as tight as he can as he stays frozen in place. Andy slowly puts it around his neck, checking with his finger to make sure it's not too tight, and the second he clasps it in place, Tom's whole body relaxes, a content little sigh escaping his lips, his face slack and blissed out. He likes being owned, so much. Andy can't get enough of it. "Good?" he asks, just to make sure it's not too tight.
"Perfect," Tom answers, the words leaving him in a sigh. Andy then ties the leash to the headboard, making sure that they're just far enough from it that he'll be feeling its pull the whole time. Tom lets out a moan. "Thank you, Sir."
Andy smirks. "Now, here's what I want you to do," he says, "you're going to ride me, just like that, and you're not going to come until I tell you to. You're definitely not going to come before I do. If you come close, you'll have to tell me. I want to hear you scream, so make as much noise as you want. Do you understand?"
Tom nods again, almost dizzyingly quick. "Yes, Sir."
"Good, then get to it."
Tom doesn't need to be told twice. He starts riding him, slowly at first, trying to find the perfect angle for Andy - not himself, Andy notices, pleased. Once it's perfect, Andy orders, "faster, slut,” and Tom obeys, as always, working up speed as he tries to keep himself upright, feeling the tug of his leash with every movement, moaning the whole time. “Good boy,” Andy says, and Tom’s responding whine is high pitched, embarrassing, needy. He gets even faster then, starting to babble as he keeps on working, and Andy just stays casually in place, not having to do a single thing while Tom works to give him pleasure.
"Fuck, you're so perfect, did you know that?" Tom asks, quickly sliding down on Andy's cock, making sure he puts all this weight in the end so Andy's cock will press down against his clit just the way he likes, making sure to go as deep as possible, "I've been dreaming of your cock for days, god, Sir, nothing's better than this," he hides his face in Andy's shoulder, speeding up even more, thighs shaking with the effort, and Andy puts a fist in his hair and pulls, watching as Tom throws his head back and lets out a scream, working even faster on Andy's cock. "Sir!," he whines, "oh, thank you, thank you, feels so good, oh my god, please, I'm gonna-"
"No, you won't," Andy interrupts, "I'm not even close to coming yet. Keep working, slut."
"Y-yes, Sir," he whines, going faster, deeper, and Andy makes it harder for him, keeps pulling at his hair to expose his neck, litters kisses and bites on his exposed throat, grabs his thigh and squeezes hard enough to bruise so Tom remembers he's his, his whore, his toy.
"I love it when you get like this," Andy says, doing his best to keep his tone even, even as he's a little breathless from pleasure, from power, "I bet you want to come so bad, don't you? If I'd just give you the word, you'd be making a mess of yourself, coming on my cock right now-"
"Fuck! Yes, yes, Sir, please, I'm so close."
Andy smiles. "No."
Tom whines, so cute, adorable, and Andy is nice enough to leave a little kiss on his shoulder, grounding, calming him down. Before going right back to torturing him, "no, you don't get to come for a long time yet. I want you just like this, on edge, tasting it…" Andy grins. "Tell me how close you are, baby."
"I'm- I'm so close-"
Andy slaps him in the face. "You can do better than that."
"Fuck, I feel like I'm going to explode, I'm so close, I want it so bad, and you feel so good, God, you have no idea what you do to me, Sir, your cock is so perfect, it hurts, I need it- need to cum on your cock, Sir, please-"
Tom chokes on a moan, and starts to go even faster. He lets out a little whine, something Andy thinks was supposed to be a word, but doesn't come close.
"See," Andy says, "this is why I won't let you come. Look at you - every time I tell you no, you get so desperate, so obedient - it's what you want, isn't it? You want me to keep telling you no, you want to know your pleasure doesn't matter, that you're just here to serve me."
"Yes! Yes, yes, yes-"
"Good, then keep going. And beg all you want- I like telling you no, too."
Tom does. He begs, and he says thank you when Andy denies him, again and again and again. Thank you, Sir, thank you for using me, for putting me in my place, I'm yours, I'm yours. And he keeps on praising Andy, praising his cock, his body, the way he fucks him and uses him, no one else makes me feel like this, no one deserves to be worshipped and served like you, Sir, I want to make you feel good-... Until even the clear-minded state of domspace begins to crumble and Andy feels nothing but pleasure, and confidence, and power, and he cums to the sound of Tom praising him and begging, once, twice, three times, until his head is clear again and everything, even the need to chase his own pleasure, is gone, and he just feels perfect.
"Stop," he orders Tom, who's still babbling more and more incoherently, endless praise and worship, and Andy finds that he worships Tom right back. "I want you to get my cock as deep inside you as you can, and stay still. I'm going to play with your dick for a while, and when I tell you to, you can come. You did well today, baby."
Tom nods, suddenly struggling to use his words. "T-thank you, Sir," he says, already frozen in place, thighs clenching with the effort not to move and also shaking with all the effort he did before.
Andy coos. "Poor baby. You were so good to me today. Let me take care of you."
"You always- always do, Sir," Tom replies, and Andy smiles.
He gives Tom a long, slow handjob, making sure Tom stays still through it, enjoying the way his thighs shake on top of Andy's, the pressure of Tom sitting tight on his cock, the way his arms also shake with effort where they rest around Andy's neck; Tom's pretty, exposed throat all marked up around his collar, his breathless little whines as Andy makes sure to do it just the way he likes it, makes his cock turn red with need; watches Tom bite his lip, because when he has to keep still he becomes so quiet and needy, even as the little whines go through his lips… Until Andy finally says, "come for me, baby," and Tom screams through an orgasm that lasts almost a minute, hanging on to Andy as tightly as he can to keep himself anchored through the pleasure.
And then Andy holds him, and Tom holds him back, and they hold each other.
A while later, they've cleaned up Tom's cum so it doesn't get all sticky on Andy's chest, and Andy's finally taken off those damn briefs - they're great for sex, but get pretty tight when you wear them for a long time - and Andy holds Tom against his chest. He's humming, contently, and if anyone had told him at the beginning of the day that he'd be comfortable enough to have someone close to him while he's fully naked, he'd - well, probably assume they meant Tom, but still be skeptical.
"How do you feel?" Tom asks after a little while, finally opening up his eyes and saying hello to the world.
"That's supposed to be my line," Andy laughs.
"I feel great. Perfect. Next time, I wanna do it for longer. A week? Let's try a week. Or two weeks…?"
Andy laughs. "Let's not make too big of a leap yet."
"Fine. A week sounds good. Great. And now that we've established that denial is totally bomb for me, how are you feeling?"
"Honestly? I'm feeling great, too," Andy admits, playing with a little stray of Tom's hair, swirling it around his finger, "I think I needed that, a little bit. Who'd have thought that having you ride me and praise my cock cures dysphoria."
"Every trans top on every forum I've ever visited."
"Let me have my moment of realization," Andy mumbles, faux-annoyed. Tom just laughs, holding him closer.
"I'm just glad I could help," he says.
"Please tell me you didn't ride my cock just to help."
"Well, no, in case you hadn't noticed, I was horny as fuck. I just tried to, you know. Use that to give you a little push. Since you wanted to. Y'know. Also, it was all true. So..."
"Thanks, love," Andy says, earnestly. "I love you."
"I love you more."
They bicker about it, and Andy's smiling the rest of the day.