*SoriSup
*Supra kẹt trong tường
*Trung bình cốt truyện haiten nhưng người viết ngoáy đại khúc đầu rồi thôi nên coi như 15+ đi

Long story short, Supra got stuck in a wall.

No, not in a body horror, house horror, or cement horror stuck kind of way, but in a "suddenly there's a hole on the wall which diameter is roughly the same as Supra's waist measurement, and probably for a better scientific calculation, God placed Supra in the hole, horizontally, instead of using tools, for example, a ruler, because Supra is an atheist and therefore so is God but they're also offended" stuck kind of way.

He doesn't appreciate this method though, especially when his spine has to curve at an awkward angle and his legs are asking for a raise because of their owner's need for delusional steadiness in order to drive the growing panic away.

If he could see how his ass is basically pointing at the ceiling, he'd give up on that sense and crack his skull open out of embarrassment. Not that the situation is not shameful enough for him anyway.

But he can't. But Sori can.

When he received Supra's definitely-not-passive-aggressive call for help, the boy with golden emeralds didn't expect a good ol' round peach poking out of a wall.

It was surprising, then confusing, then "lol he got stuck in a wall", then the peach squirmed, looking uncomfortable, and Sori thought maybe God was rewarding him for only throttling Gentar into unconsciousness after the himbo had broken his favorite pot.

Nevertheless, being the modest citizen and doting little brother he is, Sori approaches the unsuspecting ass, prays, and gropes them cheeks. Respectfully, of course.

A surprise squeak can be heard from the other side.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" Supra makes it clear that he does not find the act respectful, kicking frantically at whatever, or whoever, is harassing him. Ropes, no, vines swirl around his shins and hold him still after two attempts at feet-punching air. "Sori is that you?! The fuck are you doing?!"

There is no answer, only hands kneading his cakes as if the person behind him was an Italian chef and he was the pizza dough.

"Sori you- let go of me!!!" If Supra could use his power, that pervert would have died three times already. But then again, he couldn't. He can't. There's a reason why he needed help in the first place and he isn't going to elaborate any time soon. What he's gonna do though, is generously granting the idiot touching him a painful death once he's out of here.

Maybe Sori knows his demise is coming. Supra doesn't feel his hands anymore. However, before Supra can ease his anger a tiny isty bit, his pants and underwear are pried off his bottom, pooling at his knees and Supra inhales so hard he almost choked. "Wha-what-"

That bastard of a brother of his squeezes Supra's ass once more. Now, with the lack of coverage, Sori's touch on his skin feels much more dangerous, and Supra is oh so vulnerable against him. It wasn't the first time Sori saw him bare and defenseless, but they'd have proper preparation and Supra knew what was to come then. In those previous sessions, they had his consent. This, this predicament however, is against his will!!

It doesn't help at all even when it is still Sori who unravels him this time.

But then again again, what can he do?

Sighing out his infuriation, Supra gives up, hoping that the brat will make it quick, less he'll have a malformed back later on.