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Giyuu’s contemplating absolutely nothing when Kanroji swings by his side of the staff lounge.
“Tomioka-san!” she calls, a cheerful grin plastered on her face. Giyuu turns his head slightly in acknowledgment. “Do you know what day it is today?”
“Tuesday,” Giyuu says with about as much enthusiasm as a man who visited the convenience store the other day only to discover his favorite raisin bread was sold out. Which. Is not at all a personal anecdote.
“Well, yes!” Kanroji laughs. “Buuuut, it’s also November 11th. Four ones.” She pauses for dramatic effect. Then, out of thin air, she reveals a vibrant red box. “It’s Pocky Day!”
Giyuu blinks. There’s such a thing? Is it a national holiday? Classes are still in session, though. The students are lively as usual (read: getting into screaming matches with one another) and Giyuu’s completed his morning duty (read: chasing aforementioned students across the campus).
Kanroji pushes the box into his hands. “You can have it,” she chirps, undeterred, and winks. “Just make sure to share it with your special someone! It’s tradition.”
With that, she skips off, leaving Giyuu alone in the lounge.
He doesn't even like Pocky that much. Still, it would be a shame to waste Kanroji’s goodwill. He cracks the cardboard box and tears the packaging open. Idly, he twirls a biscuit stick between his fingers before tucking the chocolate end into his mouth.
A special someone, huh.
Giyuu finds his boyfriend in the classroom during lunch break, as they had agreed upon earlier. Sanemi doesn’t look up when he enters, seated and too occupied with sorting math exams at the desk. But he does say, “About time you got a proper lunch. All that crappy bread’s clogging your brain.”
Perhaps it was, because there’s not a single decent thought crossing Giyuu’s mind right now as he takes in Sanemi’s muscled arms, exposed from sleeves rolled up, and the lovely view of his bare chest, granted by the unbuttoned white collar.
He shuts the door and brushes a finger over the lock.
“I got you a salmon bento in my bag,” Sanemi continues. “Should be – hey!”
Giyuu plucks the papers out of his hands and unceremoniously tosses them onto the desk. He sweeps a leg over the chair, straddling Sanemi’s waist and settling his weight on his lap.
“Play with me,” Giyuu says.
“I –” Sanemi growls, “Giyuu, you can’t just start with shit like that. In the classroom, no less!”
“I locked the door and the windows are covered. I want to try this with you.” From the pocket of his track jacket, he pulls out the box and lays it next to the exam papers. Sanemi’s eyes dart from him to the Pocky, clearly confused, but the firm hands around his waist and the darkened look reassure Giyuu that he’s also intrigued. A bit aroused too, judging from the cock twitching against Giyuu’s ass.
“I saw it online. A Pocky game,” Giyuu explains once he procures a stick. “I start with one end, and you with the other. We keep chipping away at the Pocky until we kiss.” He can’t help but raise a brow, challenging Sanemi with a faint smile. “...Or the loser backs off.”
“In your fucking dreams,” Sanemi sneers. He takes the Pocky from Giyuu and grabs his chin with the other hand, fingers stroking over his jawline, trailing his way down his neck.
Sanemi applies just enough pressure there for Giyuu to part his lips and let out a breathless moan. Oh, that’s hot, Giyuu thinks as Sanemi forces the biscuit into his mouth and leans in to bite onto the chocolate-covered side.
“I’ll indulge you, sweetheart,” Sanemi says lowly, through gritted teeth. It takes everything in Giyuu’s power not to cum on the spot from that voice alone. He knows Sanemi can feel his hardened cock rubbing against him, the heat radiating off his body, the desperate small thrust.
A light crunch — that’s all the warning Giyuu gets before Sanemi closes the distance in a snap, swallowing the bits. He sweeps his tongue over Giyuu’s lips then, claiming his mouth with a roughness Giyuu is always weak for.
Giyuu finishes off his measly biscuit piece and wraps his arms around Sanemi, deepening the kiss, savoring the chocolate lingering on Sanemi’s tongue even though he’s never had a fondness for sweets – at least not in the way Sanemi does. He can appreciate the taste nonetheless, especially when Sanemi’s biting at his lips hard enough that blood seeps in.
He backs away to take a sharp inhale of air. Sanemi doesn’t relent, tangling his hand in Giyuu’s hair and pulling him forward again so he can pepper kisses along his jaw.
“S-Sanemi.”
“Hm?”
“...There’s more in the box.”
Sanemi pauses, but then he reaches for another Pocky. There’s a devious glint in his eyes that sends Giyuu spiraling (the dirty look reserved for him, only for him). The stick pokes his lip, chocolate facing him this time.
“Suck on it,” Sanemi orders.
Giyuu almost laughs at the silly dichotomy between his heated command and the Pocky, but he plays along, wrapping a hand around Sanemi’s wrist to bring it closer.
It’s thin, obviously nowhere close to satisfying like the weight of Sanemi’s cock in his mouth, but Giyuu can work with it. He flutters his lashes and licks a stripe up the Pocky before taking the tip, eyes boring into his boyfriend’s in a way that he hopes is sexy.
He’ll never have the confidence that Sanemi exudes so naturally. If he's honest, he’s still not sure what Sanemi sees in him. But when he’s rewarded with a moan and Sanemi’s wrist trembles, the doubts wash away and Giyuu presses on. He feels the chocolate melting over his tongue as Sanemi pushes the stick deeper, tickling the back of his throat, then slides it out, a string of saliva connecting Giyuu to the Pocky.
“So obscene,” Sanemi says, grinning, eyes blown wide. He licks the saliva-coated stick himself and consumes it.
Giyuu’s never been so turned on in his life.
“This game’s some roundabout way of asking for a kiss,” Sanemi mumbles, now licking the remaining chocolate off the corner of Giyuu’s swollen lips. “There’s no way either of us would lose.”
“Mm, yeah,” Giyuu breathes. They were long past any shyness and repressed feelings, after all. But, just to fuck with his boyfriend, he adds, “The outcome would be much more unpredictable if I proposed it to someone else.”
It gets the reaction he’s hoping for.
“You fucking slut,” Sanemi snarls. In a flash, Giyuu’s thrown off his lap and dragged to his feet, only to be spun around and pinned against the table, Sanemi’s leg digging into his crotch. Giyuu whimpers, cheeks aflame, arms tucked underneath his head like a pillow. The Pocky box and exams are shoved further to the side, close to falling off, but Sanemi pays them no mind.
“Y’know what?” Sanemi runs his hands over the curves of Giyuu’s ass, making his way around to slip into his pants and squeeze his cock, precum leaking, eliciting another strangled noise from Giyuu. “I’ve always wanted to see you bent over my desk.”
Well, Giyuu’s not about to stop him. He turns his head as best as he can, eyes half-lidded. “I thought you didn’t want to start shit in the classroom.”
“I changed my mind,” Sanemi says simply. He tugs down Giyuu’s pants and underwear in one go, baring his ass to the cold air. He’s staring – Giyuu can see the gears turning in his head as he grazes over his hole, glistening and stretched out.
“Get on with it then,” Giyuu whines into his arms.
“You really are a slut,” Sanemi says, a smirk widening over his handsome scarred face. He unbuttons his own pants and spits into his hand, spreading the fluid over his fingers. Giyuu shudders at a finger prodding his entrance. He feels the next words ghosting over his ear, Sanemi’s lips hovering close. “Did you think about me when you touched yourself?”
“Sanemi – ah –” He’s cut off when Sanemi yanks his low ponytail hard, tie falling off in the process, hair spilling over his shoulders.
“Answer me, pretty boy.”
“Y-yes, only you, always you,” Giyuu pants, tears prickling his eyes. “Please…” He doesn’t know what he’s begging for – touch him, jerk him off, rail him – it doesn’t matter. Sanemi slips a finger in, followed by another, and any semblance of coherence flies out the window when he fucks Giyuu relentlessly, scissoring, hitting him in all the right places. Giyuu cries, losing strength in his own legs.
Sanemi pulls his fingers out, coats his cock with the leftover lube and saliva, and hoists Giyuu by the thighs. Giyuu grabs the edge of the desk when Sanemi spears his way in, his hole accommodating for the size but not quite enough to escape the burning sensation.
Giyuu’s always been a bit of a masochist though, so he basks in the rush of pain blended with pleasure.
“You’re mine,” Sanemi growls, his teeth sweeping across Giyuu’s neck before laying claim in a spot above his jacket, biting with an intensity so fierce that it causes Giyuu to squirm. That’s going to show, Giyuu thinks dazedly, but he can’t find it in him to protest and instead tilts his neck back to encourage Sanemi.
A couple more thrusts sends Giyuu over, his hole clenching around Sanemi’s cock, spurts of cum staining the surface of the desk. Sanemi follows not long after – he spills inside Giyuu, moaning his name, and Giyuu smiles against their angled kiss.
“We still have some Pocky left,” Giyuu says, looking up from his salmon bento, stray pieces of rice stuck to his face.
Sanemi rolls his eyes, but he leans over to flick the rice off. “Let me have the rest normally, you freak.”