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Fushiguro's is a shithole and hidden gem all in one, you definitely don't come for the service, but the food and atmosphere are unbeatable in the area, plus they stay open til three am.
Is it a bar? A diner? No one knows, and no one leaves sober enough to care.
Most days, Satoru loves working at Fushiguro’s; with only eight staff members, the hourly pay is excellent, and the tip pool never gets below a hundred dollars. Plus, Satoru gets to yell at grown men and gets paid for it.
Satoru works expo and expo only; if you reach in his window, be prepared to lose an arm― what?
Satoru is territorial.
He might bartend for thirty minutes here and there if Toji wants to have a smoke break, but that's the most Satoru's willing to do ever, and even then, Toji has to bribe him with half his bar tips to get Satoru to comply.
Satoru’s known Toji his entire life. Unfortunately , the old bastard has been his legal guardian for as long as Satoru can remember, and up until a few months ago, Toji didn't let Satoru or Megumi step foot in his restaurant, with some excuse about the staff being complete assholes to new hires.
Satoru would always scoff, like Toji would ever let anyone be disrespectful to his kids.
Luckily for Satoru, the chance to prove he could handle a kitchen came in the form of Sukuna. The twenty-five-year-old felon with a reckless mouth. He'd called Satoru a twink, thinking Satoru couldn't hear him.
Satoru had to hand it to him. Sukuna wasn’t wrong, but it was still the principal.
Toji watched on the sidelines drying bar glasses with pure pride as Satoru stormed through that kitchen to rip Sukuna a new asshole.
Most nights, the kitchen runs without a hitch, with Satoru at the helm leading them through the twelve am rush. Maki and Nobara are working the closing shift, so Satoru doesn't have to worry about checking what's happening on the floor.
It's sad to say it, but those girls run circles around Yuuta and Megumi. It must be the fact that they've been dating for years .
It gave them supernatural powers.
Tonight is a different story altogether, the kitchen is fucking up― bad, and it’s because of Suguru . Sweet and cooperative, Suguru never causes any problems despite the company he keeps― Sukuna and his punk appearance. Suguru smokes his weed and minds his business on fry side.
Satoru always liked his men strong, silent, and pretty. Suguru checks all of Satoru’s boxes and then some.
Suguru showed up to work late, which should’ve been the first sign that something was up because he’s never late. Suguru gets there thirty minutes early to smoke his daily blunt in the back alley beside the dumpsters and wrestles his pretty hair into a ponytail suitable for working in food service.
Please don’t ask Satoru how he knows that.
Seriously.
Satoru knows Suguru didn't have any time to smoke because he was behind schedule, and it is making him testy as fuck. Does Satoru care? Maybe a little .
Does Satoru care enough not to poke a sleeping bear? Definitely not.
Satoru needs a remake on thirty wings because Suguru didn't care enough to pay attention to Satoru when he read the order back to them twenty-five minutes ago, and now Satoru's fucked.
It's loud and chaotic everywhere; busy, boisterous laughter and cheers float from the bar floor to the back of the house. Satoru’s standing at the expo station, which is currently filled to the brim with food, for one table.
Nobara's got an eleven-top full of drunk frat boys waiting on this, and she keeps coming back to ask Satoru about their food, and look, he gets it. Satoru wouldn't want to wait on a bunch of drunk, horny guys, either. Nobara looked about five seconds from pulling the hammer she kept in her server apron on Satoru the last time she came back, and he had to tell her it wasn't ready yet.
Satoru doesn't want her to come back. She broke Sukuna's finger with that thing last month. Satoru knows Nobara means business, and he's too pretty to break a bone.
Suguru and Sukuna are too busy laughing with each other about god knows what to even hear Satoru ask for a remake, and he’s been asking very nicely for the past five minutes.
Satoru could see them through the narrow space in the packed window; they were standing at the grill side thick as thieves, both of their tall bodies hunched over slightly to see whatever was in Sukuna's phone.
Satoru sighed, thumbing over the silver tab of his energy drink. It was his third one of the night, and Satoru really didn't want to waste it, but it'd have to do. Satoru thinks as he pulls a couple of plates of food out the window to make room for what he's about to do.
Satoru takes a quick farewell sip, closing his eyes and ensuring he savors the blue raspberry flavor so it won't die in vain; then, he chucks the entire can of liquid through the window.
It hits Suguru right in the middle of his broad back, and he startles out of the conversation with Sukuna, turning around to face Satoru with an incredulous look on his handsome face.
"Satoru, what the fuck?" Suguru yells. He has the nerve to be upset at Satoru like he hasn't ignored his voice this entire time.
“I’ve been asking for a remake since fucking yesterday!” Satoru bristles.
Suguru has the gall to look confused and angry when he speaks again, “For what? I don’t have any tickets back here.”
"It's the wrong sauce! If you listened to me the first time, we wouldn't be in this mess!" Satoru shouts without a care in the world about customers hearing him.
They're in a bar at twelve am. They were definitely in the wrong establishment if they were concerned with hearing people shouting.
Suguru rolled his eyes. “Not everyone wants to hear you bitch every five fucking seconds―” Suguru says, shrugging off his apron.
"Make it your goddamn yourself, I'm goin' to smoke," Suguru says as he walks off the line. The back of his white shirt is stained a bright radioactive blue, muttering obscenities under his breath all the while.
Someone snorts, and Satoru’s not surprised to see it's Sukuna.
After finally getting the order out to Nobara's table, thanks to Sukuna being a good sport for once and fixing Suguru's fuck up, Satoru is on a war path to give the man a piece of his mind.
Satoru's anger has died after not seeing Suguru's stupid face for the last twenty minutes, but he still needs to get his point across.
He’s not shocked when he finds Suguru out back in his favorite spot; the smell of cannabis is pungent in the air, and Satoru wrinkles his nose, looking around. It's dark. Moonlight and the flickering light overhead of the backdoor are the only light sources, and the ground is still slightly damp from the drizzle earlier in the evening. There's a dumpster to the left of Satoru, just a bit further down the alley.
He almost feels terrible when the door slams, announcing his arrival. Suguru looks serene, sitting on a stack of black crates, black hair loose flowing like water over his shoulders, lip piercings glinting in the moonlight.
Suguru’s hot, and just like that, Satoru's pissed off all over again, he thinks as he storms over to Suguru, already cursing up a storm.
"You don't get to talk to me like that!" it's like the mere sound of Satoru's voice grates on every one of Suguru's nerves.
“Oh my god , Satoru, just shut the fuck up for once," Suguru groans, pinching his nose in agitation, blunt wedged between his fingers. Satoru tilts his head slightly like a puppy and thinks Suguru looks really good being annoyed.
“I’m serious, Suguru.” Satoru presses. Yet Satoru can’t hide the fact that his tone is a little less pissed and a little more playful.
Suguru’s eyes roam over his face like he’s searching for something, “Ah, so only Sukuna can call you a stuck-up bitch and get away with it,” Suguru questions.
Satoru can only wonder what he means by that.
“What the fuck are you trying to say?” The insinuation is so audacious that Satoru snorts. Satoru and Sukuna? No fucking way.
Suguru only hums, punctuating his silence with a heavy drag from his blunt. Suguru licks his lips after, and Satoru sees a glint of metal on his tongue.
He can totally be chill about this. Probably.
"Why are you being such a dick today?" Satoru scowls; cute or not, Suguru isn't off the hook. Yet .
Suguru stands up with a heavy sigh, and Satoru makes no room to step back to try and pretend to give Suguru some space. They are nearly chest-to-chest, and Satoru can smell the acidic sweetness from the drink staining the back of Suguru’s T-shirt; Satoru thinks Suguru should take off his shirt.
“I’m tired of you . I’m so tired- “ Suguru says, running a frustrated hand through his hair like the thought of Satoru weighed him down like a stack of bricks. When Suguru speaks again, it is feverish, like he's ranting to a friend.
“I don’t know whether to punch you in your pretty face or fuck it and just need you to be silent for twenty fucking minutes―” Suguru’s hands twitch like he wants to grab Satoru before he takes a small step back, still talking.
“If you're not nagging our fucking faces off, you're strutting around with your tight pants and nasty ass attitude like you own this goddamn place- “ Suguru looks him up and down with an agitated sigh.
“I can’t see how your boyfriend puts up with you . Is he that bad in the sack that even dick won't mellow you out? Please, sweetheart, just tell me 'cause I can give you exactly what you need for five seconds of fucking peace." Suguru looks at Satoru expectantly, like he's waiting for an answer, and Satoru's brain is fried.
Satoru’s speechless mind is still stuck on the fact that Suguru wants to fuck him. All he can squeak out is
"I don't have a boyfriend," Suguru looks at him with hungry eyes as he steps forward to place a warm hand on the small of Satoru's back, making his breath hitch and stomach clench.
It's silent momentarily, just the crickets and trees singing in the background. Satoru looks around. There's no one around the alley, and they're far enough away from the door that if anyone walked out, they wouldn't be able to see the two of them clearly.
“Want me to give you what you need, honey?” Suguru says, another hand softly griping Satoru's chin to force him to make eye contact; his lower back burns as Suguru moves to squeeze Satoru's waist.
Satoru hasn't had sex in ages; too busy with school and work to try and find some random guy to fuck. Satoru's tiny crush on Suguru has nothing to do with it either.
Satoru's ears rang, and his chest felt tighter the longer Suguru's hands were on him. Satoru can't help but politely agree, a complete one-eighty from his initial attitude.
A small 'Yes, please.' has Suguru cooing at Satoru while he backs him into the nearest alley wall. The bricks are wet and slimy against Satoru's back, but Suguru's thigh slotting between Satoru's legs makes up for it.
Suguru's looking down at Satoru like he wants to kiss him, so Satoru grabs a handful of Suguru's hair and pulls him forward until their lips connect. Suguru tastes like weed and the cinnamon candies he stole from Satoru earlier in the day out of spite, and Satoru can't think of anything that tastes better.
Satoru’s on his way to being embarrassingly wet; the hot drag of Suguru’s tongue and the cold metal of his piercing is fucking with Satoru. Bad . He can’t help the first tentative rock against Suguru’s thigh between his legs, which has Satoru gasping into Suguru’s mouth.
“Oh fuck―” Satoru feels electric like every nerve in his body has flipped inside out and turned into goo. It feels slightly degrading when Suguru uses the hold on Satoru's waist to press him down harder onto his thigh, ripping a whine from Satoru’s chest. The hand not in Suguru’s hair is pressed flat against the brick to stop it from trembling when Suguru ghosts his lips over Satoru’s neck.
“How easy is that, sweetheart? See what being nice gets you?” Suguru purrs, sucking a bruise right behind Satoru’s ear. Suguru’s voice sounds like sin. “You’re so pretty; how rude you are is a shame ."
Satoru doesn’t think he has a voice kink, but the way Suguru’s velvet words go straight to his cunt has Satoru rethinking.
“Suguru, come onnn ,” Satoru can't bring it in himself to be embarrassed about how easy he is, how easy it is for Suguru to make Satoru feel like this. With a few nice words and a thigh to grind on, Satoru’s ready to be bent over.
"What, no arguments? Complaints?" Suguru laughs cruelly, letting Satoru slide off his thigh, groaning when, instead of answering, Satoru shucks those tight black pants down― and hooks a finger between his legs to pull his panties to the side, flashing Suguru a beautiful view of his cute chubby pink folds.
The panties are light blue with tiny white bows on the front, like Satoru was a present just for Suguru. It feels like Christmas when Satoru turns around to put his other hand on the bricks for balance as he bends to grace Suguru with a downright filthy view.
Satoru knows he's stunning. He makes an even better picture naked and can only imagine how Suguru feels. If Satoru had a chance, he'd figure out a way to fuck himself.
Satoru was way too conceited sometimes.
Satoru's brought back to reality when Suguru starts pressing the head of his cock into Satoru's cunt, the stretch making his eyelids flutter with a loud drawn-out moan. When did Suguru pull his dick out? Satoru has no idea and no complaints, either.
Fuck, Suguru's dick felt huge. What the fuck. What the fuck .
Suguru's cock nudges Satoru's fingers as he slides in inch by inch, the pace he sets is glacial, and Satoru can feel the hot pulsing heat inside him as Suguru finally bottoms out.
"God, you're so tight , Satoru. Does it hurt?" Suguru's nice, breathless tone betrays the way he grips Satoru's waist with apparent frustration.
“ Oh , mhm hurts—s'good." Satoru's head hangs between his arm and the wall as he presses his trembling hand harder against the bricks. He's wet enough to put out a forest fire alone, and Suguru's hands feel like they'll rip him apart.
Yeah, it hurts. Suguru's dick is stupid big, and Satoru's stretched to the brim but fuck. Fuck .
“Suguru— ah , harder, please ," Satoru needs it. He might actually die if he doesn't get fucked. Satoru didn't have a problem not having sex; his dry spells weren't even all that dry thanks to the toys he had at home, but now that Satoru's gotten a taste of Suguru, he's not sure he'll ever be the same again.
"Why should I―" Suguru hums, pressing a hand against Satoru's lower back, forcing the beautiful arch of his back more profound; it sends a minuscule sting through Satoru's spine that has him gasping.
"You gonna be good for me, Satoru? Gonna bend over and take what I give you like a good boy?" The thick wet drag of Suguru's cock punctuates his filthy sentence.
“ Uh huh ― I’ll be good . I promise― just please ," Satoru whines. He can't take this torture; Satoru's legs are shaking, his back hurts, and he just wants to come. He'll never be rude to Suguru again if it means he'll hurry up and fuck him.
“ Oh , good job, look at you using your manners," Suguru coos as he picks up the pace, pulling Satoru's waist to meet his hard thrusts. Suguru feels like heaven; the curve of his cock keeps hitting that bundle of nerves inside of Satoru with every movement.
Satoru doesn't have the strength to keep holding his panties aside, fingers twitching and trembling, so he uses that hand to cover his mouth. Suguru hardly notices the thin strip of fabric constantly caressing his dick, too busy running his filthy mouth.
“ Fuck , good boy Satoru," Suguru purrs, and Satoru can't help but moan. Suguru's grip is tight, and his pace is punishing. There is no way Satoru is going to last long. He's burning up from the inside out, and even with Satoru's mouth being covered, he's loud.
Satoru's moaning like he works at a whorehouse and not a restaurant. It should be embarrassing being split open in an alley right behind his workplace, yet he's sloppily wet, gushing around Suguru's cock like it's his first time taking dick.
Satoru loves it. Fuck, after this, Satoru might love Suguru.
Satoru uncovers his mouth with a gasp, trying to reach behind him to touch Suguru, "I'm good, tell me please, Suguru― I wanna be good," He's red hot with lust, and Satoru needs Suguru to call him a good boy one more time.
"You're so good, sweetheart, my good boy," Suguru grabs his hand and holds it tight, "You wanna feel it tomorrow, don't you, honey? Wanna remember how good I fucked you?" Suguru sets a brutal pace that makes Satoru's toes curl.
“ Oh― Yes, please. Make it hurt― Mm ouch, fuck Suguru harder, please―" Satoru can't shut the fuck up. He's babbling. Every thrust makes his stomach clench and his cunt tighter; Satoru knows that anybody could catch them. Fuck, someone probably will see them if Satoru doesn't quiet down, but he's so close .
"Come on, pretty boy, you can do it," Suguru growls as his thrusts get sloppier. God Satoru wants to feel him come inside; who cares if he's on birth control or not? "You gonna come for me, Satoru? Let me feel you."
How can Satoru not listen to him?
Satoru comes with a white-hot flash that travels down his spine and makes his legs buckle; Suguru doesn't even flinch as he holds Satoru's weight with one hand while he talks Satoru through his orgasm, another hand still clenching Satoru's as he fucks Satoru with reckless abandon chasing his own release. Suguru doesn't even ask to come inside Satoru; he just does . The action makes Satoru’s cunt twitch.
When Suguru pulls out, he tucks himself back into his sweats and goes to help Satoru pull his pants up, but when Satoru turns around to face him, it's with tears in his eyes.
Suguru looks stunned as Satoru smacks his hands away with watery eyes.
Fuck Suguru. Satoru thinks as he fixes his pants; he's got come leaking out of him and into his underwear. Satoru knows it'll feel filthy when he has to sit down or squat down to finish his shift cleaning― and it will turn him on again.
"If you're upset about me calling you a bitch, just know I meant it affectionately," Suguru says weakly, standing there awkwardly in the moonlight; gone is the suave hot-blooded beast he was two minutes ago in his place is Satoru's sweet and cooperative Suguru.
Satoru actually wants to cry now, "I know I'm a bitch. You don't have to backtrack to try and save my feelings," He says.
“Did I do something you didn’t like? You can tell me,” Suguru says quietly.
“ No . It was fine,” Satoru sighs.
A spark of that red-hot beast peaks out for a moment, “Just fine ? You sure about that, Satoru?"
"What do you want me to say ? That I'm upset because I'll never get fucked like this again? That the feeling of your come inside my panties makes me want to ask you to do it again― " Satoru blushes hard. "I know you don't like me like that, Suguru; just let me sulk for a second, okay."
“Why would I fuck you if I didn’t like you, Satoru?” Suguru laughs.
Laughing like he hasn't just upended Satoru’s entire fucking world.
“ What .”
“You think I just go around fucking people that make me mad? No, I just always thought you had a boyfriend.”
“But I don’t.”
"Do you want one?" Suguru says, grinning.