Little Freak

by MoonlitHariel284

Summary:

They’d haven't gotten along, according to Suguru. Not in crowded classrooms, or the basketball court, or the football ground, or the library and the labs. Although, the only places their heated arguments went from ragebaiting and fighting each other into something else were the empty ones: Satoru's flat, classrooms after hours, locker rooms long after everyone else had left, or Suguru's dorm room, or quiet corners of their college. That was where Satoru would corner him, all wicked charm and flirty murmurs and drag him away from prying eyes, or push him down onto thin dorm sheets and fuck the fight out of him until Suguru was too wrecked to pretend he didn’t want it.

Notes:

Guess who turned their socmed au into something else.🏃‍♀️

*Realising i definitely have a genre of GoGe*

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ Little Freak ♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬

 

 

Everyone in the freshman year knew Gojo and Geto would always end up in heated arguments. Sometimes it was just sharp, snarky comments thrown across the room or empty violent threats and brabbles. Other times, more often than not, jeers escalated into a full blown fight until someone finally stepped in to pull them apart.

 

“Get. Your. Hand off me!” Suguru warned breathy as he struggled against the grip pinning him down.

 

Satoru’s large palm pressed the side of his face harder into the dusty wooden desk, where he had Suguru bent over. Satoru leaned in close from behind. 

 

“I was promised some good punches” Satoru taunted, lips curling into a sharp grin. “You had the audacity back on the field.”

 

Suguru let out a strained laugh, cheek scraping against the desk as he tried to twist his head. “You just hate being a sore loser.”

 

“I didn’t lose shit,” Satoru growled, tightening his hold on Suguru’s arms and reaching back to hit Satoru somehow but failed. “Like I’d actually lose to trash like you. You cheated.”

 

“Definitely something a loser would say,” Suguru shot back through gritted teeth, eyes flashing with defiance even from his pinned position.Satoru’s grip tightened further, his knee nudging Suguru’s legs apart just enough to keep him off balance. 

 

“Just admit you told Kenzo to slam into me on purpose. So I won’t feel bad when I beat the shit out of both of you,” Satoru snarled, against Suguru’s face. “You did it so I wouldn’t be able to play for the Match.”

 

“Bold assumption, and nasty projection,” Suguru sneered.

 

His breath hitched, from the pressure on his arms, from the heat of Satoru’s body crowding him.

 

 “Just admit you lost because you’re a pervert.”

 

“The fuck do you mean?” Satoru gritted.

 

“You were ogling me the entire second half,” Suguru said, slow and deliberate, noticing the way Satoru’s body stiffened behind him. “That’s why you ate dirt.”

 

For a second, the room went dead silent except for their heavy breathing.

 

Then Satoru let out a incredulous laugh, leaning down until his lips nearly brushed Suguru’s ear. His voice came out rough, low, and venomously sweet.

 

“You’ve got some fucking nerve while I’ve got you like this.”

 

“Bet you thought about that too often,” Suguru taunted, cheek still pressed against the dusty desk.

 

Satoru’s eyes flashed with irritation. “I wanna beat the shit out of you.”

 

Before either of them could move, the heavy thud of boots echoed down the hallway. Satoru cursed under his breath and instantly released him, stepping back quickly. He slipped behind the old cupboard next to the blackboard, pressing his back flat against the wall. Suguru wasted no time either. He straightened up and moved closer to the door, ready to bolt once it's clear.

 

They both held their breath as the principal passed by the open doorway without glancing inside, his footsteps fading down the corridor.

 

The moment the coast seemed clear, Suguru shoved the door open and stepped out. Satoru was right behind him, long legs eating up the distance. He reached out and caught Suguru’s wrist, yanking his elbow.

 

Suguru barely had time to react before another set of heavy, deliberate boots rang out.

 

Satoru dropped his hand like he’d been burned. Without a word, they split in different directions. Suguru headed toward the stairwell while Satoru walked against the nearest wall, trying to look casual. 

 

The math teacher’s voice suddenly boomed from the end of the hallway. “YOU TWO!”

 

Both of them froze.

 

“Were you fighting again?” Ganari-San barked, eyes narrowing as he took in their disheveled appearances. 

 

Satoru and Suguru forced out matching awkward laughs, the sound stiff and unconvincing.

 

“Ganari-san, no, we swear,” Suguru said quickly, rubbing the back of his neck. 

 

“We just came from field practice. Intercollege football match prep, you know?” Satoru added.

 

The teacher didn’t look convinced. For the next three painfully long minutes, the conversation dragged on. full of hesitant explanations, half-hearted reassurances, and the occasional sharp taunts from their teacher.

 

The second he disappeared, Satoru’s expression darkened.

 

He shoved past Suguru, shoulder bumping him roughly as he muttered under his breath, “Watch your back, Suguru.”

 

Suguru taunted, not even bothering to move out of the way. “I’ve got you for that, don’t I Satoru?”

 

Satoru stopped mid-step. He turned around slowly, jaw locked tight, glaring.

 

 

 

 

 

But one day, the heat of their fight took a very different turn.

 

It started the same as always: the two of them arguing over some bullshit that happened on the field back when they were co-captains of the football team in first year.

 

This time, though, no one else was around.

 

Satoru had Suguru pinned against the sports room wall.

 

The insults flew faster, harsher, until the air between them crackled with something far more complicated than anger.

 

Then, without warning, their mouths crashed together.

 

It had to be Satoru who moved first. Suguru would rather eat salt than kiss him first. One second they were spitting venom at each other, the next Satoru’s mouth was on his, rough and demanding. Suguru’s hands shot up, fisting Satoru’s shirt just as tightly, yanking him closer instead of pushing him away.

 

Satoru bit down on Suguru’s lower lip hard enough to sting. Suguru answered by gripping the back of Satoru’s neck and kissing him back just as fiercely, tongues sliding hot and aggressive against each other. Their hands clutched desperately at each other’s clothes, pulling and tugging like they were still fighting… only now the fight had changed into something far more addictive.

 

They kissed like they fought. Messy, aggressive, and breathless, until the faint sound of footsteps shuffling nearby in the sports room made them freeze.

 

In the same instant, they shoved each other away hard. Suguru stumbled back a step, chest heaving, while Satoru nearly tripped trying to put distance between them.

 

Their faces were flushed deep red, lips swollen and glistening, eyes wide with scandalized panic. Both of them looked equally wrecked, breathing hard as they quickly put distance between their bodies, the heat of the moment crashing into cold, awkward reality

 

 

 

 

The first few times were pretty much all the same.

 

Suguru let out a small grunt, lips curling as he rubbed the tender spot on his side where Satoru had socked. “Is that all you got?” he taunted, voice low and mocking

 

Satoru paused, blue eyes narrowing behind those ever-present shades. He methodically rolled up his sleeves, a lazy grin spreading across his face. “Was gonna aim for that face,” he drawled, tone light and teasing.

 

“But?” Suguru prompted. He held his ground with steady poise, refusing to back down even an inch. Satoru stepped closer, shrinking the space until Suguru’s pulse quickened against his will.

 

Satoru hesitated, his smirk faltering for just a split second before sliding back into place. “I don’t have it in my heart… you look a little less ugly today,” He shrugged, the words tumbling out with effortless nonchalance. “Would almost say cute.”

 

Suguru scoffed, a sharp “Pfft” escaping his lips as he leaned in.

 

“Did you miss me? You got soft on me while I was gone, doggy?” He tested the waters deliberately, his dark bangs falling slightly over one eye, gaze amused and bold.

 

Satoru’s jaw ticked, but that stubborn smirk refused to fade. In a blur of motion, his hand shot out, fingers curling into Suguru’s collar with a firm yank that pulled them close enough to feel the heat radiating from each other, yet far enough.

 

His voice came out hushed and mocking. “Oh, you have no idea how I spent those four days… thinking about how annoyingly sexy you’d look all beaten up.”

 

Suguru’s breath caught, his eyes widening for a split second before narrowing into defiance. “Unhand me now,” he threatened calmly, “and we’ll see that you don’t look too bad yourself.” He reached for Satoru’s wrist.

 

But before he could grip it, Satoru twisted with effortless strength. In one fluid move, he captured both of Suguru’s wrists in his big, unyielding hands, pinning them behind his back. Suguru’s back slammed against Satoru’s solid chest, the contact sending a rush of fury mixed with something far more complicated and thrilling. His heart hammered against his ribs, face flushing.

 

Satoru chuckled, then came that low tut-tut sound of.

 

“You sound so pissed,” he murmured against Suguru’s ear, his breath warm and teasing, lips brushing the shell just enough to make Suguru’s skin prickle.“I thought this was our little foreplay.”

 

Suguru’s teeth gritted, but an annoyed smile tugged at his lips anyway, equal parts irritation and twisted amusement. “Let me go,” he hissed, muscles flexing under Satoru’s grip. “And I’ll make this easier for you.”

 

Satoru’s grin widened, playful yet predatory, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he released Suguru abruptly. “Nooooo, give me your all, kitty,” he cooed, dodging the immediate punch that whistled through the air with ease. He countered with a swift jab of his own, arm slicing forward. 

 

In seconds, they were a whirlwind of motion. Fists flying, hands tugging at clothes, and sharp remarks cutting through the air.

 

It ended when Suguru caught Satoru off-balance with a sharp twist, slamming him back against the wall of the empty classroom. Before he could push off, Suguru’s fist drove into his ribs—not full power, but enough to punch the breath out of him in a startled laugh.

 

“Fuck—yes,” Satoru hissed through a feral yet soft grin, a single bead of blood trickling from his nose. He didn’t bother wiping it away. Instead he tilted his head back against the wall, chest heaving, eyes half-lidded.

 

He felt it. That deliberate restraint. The rib shot had landed solid, meant to wind him. The next graze to his jaw? Lighter. Almost gentle by comparison. Suguru could’ve done better. He hadn’t.

 

“I am a little… worked up,” Satoru rasped, his voice wrecked from laughter and exertion, still breathless. He squinted up through his white lashes at the boy pinning him in place.

 

Suguru looked wrecked in the prettiest, most infuriating way. His long black hair had come half-loose from its tie, strands clinging to the sweat-damp flush high on his cheekbones. A tiny smudge of blood smeared from the corner of his lip.

 

Suguru’s fingers tightened in the front of Satoru’s half untucked uniform shirt, knuckles brushing bare skin through the open collar. His jaw worked. For a long heartbeat he said nothing, just stared down at him, chest rising and falling in a sharp, angry rhythm.

 

“I’ll punch that smirk off your face,” Suguru’s voice cracked just slightly as he flared. “How does that sound pervert?”

 

Satoru didn’t flinch. Instead his head lolled lazily to the side, white lashes fluttering as he looked up through half-lidded eyes. The tiny cut on his lower lip glistened when he smiled, utterly shameless. 

 

“Hot,” he breathed.

 

Suguru started as his nose flared, voice fraying at the edges. 

 

He released Satoru with a rough shove, fingers uncurling from the fabric like it scorched him. The push sent Satoru stumbling back half a step, shoulder blades scraping the wall again. 

 

Before Satoru could recover his balance or throw out another taunt, Suguru’s leg lashed out, connecting with the front of Satoru’s shin.

 

Satoru sucked in a sharp breath through clenched teeth, something between a wince and a laugh. “Ow—help me up, jerk,” he managed, voice still threaded with amusement even as he bent slightly to rub the spot.

 

They looked exactly like what they were: two boys who’d just spent the tension out of each other. Uniforms wrinkled and half-undone, hair mussed, faint marks blooming.

 

They’d earned every second of the long detention Yaga would hand down.

 

How did this happen? Well, these clashes were frequent. Suguru wasn’t planning on returning after a four-day visit to his village, to find out how much Satoru missed getting under his skin.

 

 

 

 

Another time. Same old story.

 

A loud thwack echoed through the locker room as Satoru slammed back against the metal door. Suguru’s hand was already fisted tight in his collar. They’d been at it since Satoru had chased him all the way here from the basketball court, the air thick with frustration and something far more dangerous.

 

“Didn’t get enough of me?” Satoru sneered, that signature cocky tone slicing right under Suguru’s skin.

 

“You chased after me, thought you weren’t bored yet?” Suguru gritted out, a sharp, challenging smile cracking across his face even as his voice came out thin and raw.

 

Satoru swung an arm. Suguru dodged — but it was a feint. In the next breath Satoru got him off balance, grabbed the back of his neck, and slammed him face-first into the cold locker with a metallic clang.

 

Suguru’s forehead throbbed as Satoru yanked the United hair, forcing his head back against the locker with a dull metallic thud.

 

“This isn’t boring at all now,” Satoru whispered, his toothy grin brushing Suguru’s ear, breath hot and heavy as he pinned him harder into the cold metal.

 

“Take your hands off me, and I’ll make this more interesting for both of us,” Suguru threatened, voice low and edged with warning.

 

Satoru leaned in even closer, his voice dropping to a silky razor’s edge. “Is that a promise, babe?”

 

“Yeah, this isn’t creepy at all,” Suguru bit out sarcastically.

 

Satoru grinned wider, clearly trying to rile him up. “We have established that you enjoy that part, kitty.”

 

Suguru shot back, voice sharp with venom. “Was it all an excuse to corner me and hump me, doggy?”

 

That jab ignited something feral in Satoru. With a low growl, he spun Suguru around, huge hands clamping tight around his throat as he shoved him back against the locker.

 

“Watch your mouth,” Satoru snarled, eyes blazing.

 

Suguru’s gaze darted wildly, hunting for even a split-second opening in Satoru’s fury. A chance to seize control with a headbutt, a quick grab, anything.

 

Their faces were inches apart, closer than hands, closer than threats. Heavy, exhausted breaths mingled in the thin sliver of space between their mouths, hot and angry.

 

Neither of them noticed who moved first. 

 

Satoru’s bruising crush of lips slammed against Suguru’s in a rough, unexpected kiss.

 

Suguru’s hands flew up instinctively, fisting the front of Satoru’s shirt and yanking him closer even as he bit down hard on Satoru’s lower lip in retaliation. Satoru groaned into the kiss, fingers flexing tighter around Suguru’s throat for one dangerous second before sliding up to cradle the back of his head instead, tilting him deeper into the bruising kiss.

 

Suguru’s hands moved higher, one tangling roughly in Satoru’s white hair and yanking hard enough to drag a moan from his throat, the other sliding under his shirt to claw at the bare skin of his back.

 

Satoru’s hands weren’t idle. One stayed fisted tight in Suguru’s hair, tugging him impossibly closer, while the other slid up under his uniform shirt to grab his waist, fingers digging into taut, warm flesh.

 

They stumbled together, Satoru shoving Suguru harder against the locker as Suguru hooked a leg around Satoru’s thigh, grinding up against the insistent press of his body. Hands were everywhere.

 

Satoru’s touch grew bolder, impatient and greedy. His fingers found the buttons of Suguru’s untucked shirt without ever breaking the kiss. The first button popped free with a soft snap, then the second, then the third.

 

He didn’t stop kissing him. If anything, he kissed harder, deeper, tongue shoving past Suguru’s lips in wet, claiming strokes, swallowing every ragged sound Suguru tried to make.

 

Suguru’s protest came out muffled against Satoru’s mouth, half growl, half moan. His hand shot down, clamping tight around Satoru’s wrist. He yanked it away, which only made Satoru snarl low in his throat—a frustrated, vibrating sound that traveled straight into Suguru’s mouth.

 

Satoru didn’t retreat. He retaliated.

 

His hips snapped forward, grinding hard against Suguru and forcing a sharp hitch in his breath. At the same time, Satoru’s free hand slid down, palm pawing greedily over the curve of Suguru’s ass, yanking him forward to meet the next rough grind.

 

Suguru bit down hard on Satoru’s tongue — sudden and enough for the sharp taste of copper to bloom between their tongues.

 

Satoru jerked back with a sharp hiss.

 

For one suspended heartbeat they stared at each other, eyes wild, chests heaving, mouths swollen and red.

 

Then Suguru’s fist flew. It connected solidly with Satoru’s face, not full power, but enough to snap his head to the side.

 

Satoru slowly turned his head back, tongue swiping over the fresh split inside his cheek. The thinnest line of blood dripped from his nose. He smirked. Ever so slow, unhinged, eyes glittering dark, pupils blown wide.

 

Suguru didn’t wait. He spun on his heel, snatched his bag from the floor, slung it over one shoulder with jerky, furious movements, and strode toward the exit.

 

Satoru slid down the locker slowly, long legs folding until he hit the cold tile, knees spread wide.

 

A lazy, aroused grin as his head lolled back against the metal.

 

“Fuck,” he breathed, voice wrecked and thick with arousal, “I am so hard right now.'

 

 

 

 

But the arguments kept happening more often, and by the end of first year of their college, the frustrated kisses quickly turned into hungry makeouts, all teeth and tongue and desperate hands roaming under clothes.

 

Very few people could get under Suguru’s skin the way Satoru did.

 

It wasn’t just the obnoxious confidence that radiated off him like his cologne, or that annoyingly pretty face with its sharp jaw and deep sea eyes. It was the raspy, half-laughing voice, the stupidly expensive sunglasses he wore even indoors, and that signature toothy grin, sometimes flirty, often cocky, and far too knowing. One look at that smile and Suguru’s jaw would tighten on multiple instincts that confused himself.

 

Well they didn't beat each other anymore. 

 

He hated how easily the bastard could unravel him. And worse, how Suguru kept letting it happen.

 

Suguru still couldn’t believe he’d lost his virginity at 20 to this asshole.

 

Satoru had shoved him over his dorm desk, scattering papers everywhere.

 

“Shit… you’re so fucking tight,” Satoru had groaned, voice low and wrecked from all the restrain to not go all out. “I could come just with my tip in.”

 

Suguru’s forehead pressed against the cold wood, teeth sunk into his own arm to muffle the broken, desperate sounds spilling from his mouth. Every drag against that sensitive spot inside him made his cock leak steadily.

 

Satoru leaned over his back as he changed the pace, one hand wrapping Suguru's ponytail around to yank his head back. “That’s it,” he had panted hotly against his ear, still pounding into him. “Fuck, you feel even better than I imagined.”

 

Suguru’s breath hitched. “How often did you imagine this, pervert?”

 

“You have no idea the ways I’ve had you in my imagination,” Satoru rasped, voice rough with arousal as he drove in and out.

 

“How are you admitting it so shamelessly?” Suguru snarked, the words breaking into a shaky moan as another thrust punched the air out of his lung.

 

“Got you all wide and open, I'll be balls deep in you,” Satoru grunted, “About time you drop this act and b just as shameless, Suguru.”

 

A broken whine escaped Suguru’s throat.

 

“I would almost get hard in class sometimes, sometimes during our training,” Satoru confessed breathy, over run with lust. “Just from that little scowl. You in your ponytail and that tracksuit of yours that doesn't quite hide your body.”

 

“You’re a whole pervert,” Suguru gasped, preening from within, voice cracking into another moan as pleasure spiked through him. 

 

“At least I’m not a fake freak like you,” Satoru commented, fingers digging the skin of Suguru's ass, drawing out another broken whimper from Suguru’s lip.

 

Satoru slowed his pace again, switching to long, deliberate thrusts. Each deep stroke pushed Suguru forward across the desk, his hips jolting with the force as Satoru dragged heavily against that sensitive spot inside him.

 

Suguru’s fingers scrabbled against the wood, a low, needy whimper slipping out with every slow, punishing slide. “Fuck… more,” he demanded, voice hoarse and frustrated. “Stop teasing and get this out of our systems already.”

 

“Like this?” Satoru growled hotly against his ear, breath ragged. “Is this better baby?”

 

“Ah-ah— ngh— Satoru- uhh— fuck yes— Satoru!” Suguru cried out, the words tumbling broken and wobbly from his lips as pleasure slammed through him. His moans turned into desperate, high-pitched whimpers, each rough thrust punching more needy sounds out of him.

 

Satoru let out a low, dark chuckle against the back of Suguru’s neck. “Maybe we'll do this again.” 

 

"Definitely not."

 

Without warning, he hooked his arms under Suguru’s underarms, yanking him upright and throwing him face first on his dorm bed. Suguru’s back arched as Satoru pressed in close from behind, hot breath ghosting over his sweat-damp skin.

 

"About time that yoga come in handy."

 

Then he fucked him with little to no breaks.

 

Suguru stayed limp against dorm sheets, boneless and trembling after Satoru was done with him. His mind had gone completely blank, lost in overwhelming bliss.

Dickheads might not be good for your soul, but their dicks sure might do wonders for your hole, Suguru thought hazily, a broken, satisfied moan slipping from his parted lips.

 

 

 

SOPHOMORE 

 

Next time, it happened at Haibara and Nanami’s housewarming party.

 

They had slipped away from the noise and ended up making out in one of the empty upstairs rooms.

 

Later Satoru drove them straight back to his rented flat.

 

Suguru rode him on his couch.

 

“Oh fuck… god,” Satoru grunted, head falling back against the couch, hands gripping Suguru’s waist tightly. “I forgot how good you felt.”

 

Suguru huffed, panting as he braced his hands on Satoru’s chest and picked up the pace. “Careful… don’t get used to it.”

 

Satoru’s fingers dug harder into his hips, guiding him down onto his cock with every roll. “I might. We should do this often.”

 

“Oh no we shouldn't,” Suguru leaned forward, hair falling around his face as he kept riding him, thighs flexing. “I know guys like you… It’ll get complicated. I don’t have the headspace for that… especially not for you.”

 

Satoru let out a breathless laugh, hips snapping up to meet him. “Are you crazy! I am not a sappy fool. The last thing I wanna do is make space in someone's head and waste both our time.” He smirked, eyes dark. “Well… in bed though? We can have a lot of good times.”

 

"Shut up and keep fucking me,” Suguru muttered, nails digging crescent moon indents into Satoru’s chest as both of them heaved. “I’ll think about it.”

 

When they finally came down from their highs, Suguru was slumped on Satoru’s chest, both of them breathing hard and covered in sweat.

 

“Holy shit,” Satoru murmured, running a hand down Suguru’s back. “I might actually get addicted to this.”

 

Suguru lifted his head, messy hair falling into his eyes as he looked at Satoru. “So… we want to make this a thing?”

 

Satoru’s answer was immediate, a lazy but certain grin spreading across his face. 

 

“Absolutely.”

 

“And we won’t be calling each other corny sweet names,” Suguru murmured, tracing a finger over Satoru’s collarbone, “and constantly nagging each other about our whereabouts. Just sex, yeah?”

 

"Absolutely."

 

Suguru lifted his head, fluttering eyelashes at him with a small, teasing smile. “And why won’t we be saying stupid things like ‘I love you’ to each other?”

 

“Because it turns all sentimental and emotional and uncool, then there’s no fun anymore. Don't worry, i am not gonna be in love with you or something.” 

 

Suguru smirked into the slow, lingering kiss they shared.

 

“Perfect,” he whispered against Satoru’s lips.

 

 

 

 

They’d still haven't gotten along that well, according to Suguru. Not in crowded classrooms, or the basketball court, or the football ground, or the library and the labs. Although, the only places their heated arguments went from ragebaiting and fighting each other into something else were the empty ones: Satoru's flat, classrooms after hours, locker rooms long after everyone else had left, or Suguru's dorm room, or quiet corners of their college. That was where Satoru would corner him, all wicked charm and flirty murmurs and drag him away from prying eyes for quick makeouts, or push him down onto thin dorm sheets and fuck the fights right out of him until Suguru was too wrecked to pretend he didn’t want it.

 

The teacher’s marker squeaked across the whiteboard in steady strokes.

 

“Psst.”

 

Suguru’s pen paused mid-word. A tiny frown creased the space between his brows. He didn’t look up.

 

“No,” he muttered under his breath.

 

Satoru leaned sideways just enough to let his shoulder bump Suguru’s. His voice dropped to an offended whisper. “Wha— I didn’t even say anything.”

 

Suguru kept writing. “Whatever it is. No.”

 

Satoru huffed quietly through his nose, propping his chin in one hand, blue eyes flicking between the board and Suguru’s profile.

 

Suguru rolled his eyes despite the light pink tint finding its way to his cheeks.

 

“You are staring,” he stated.

 

“Is that a problem?” Satoru asked.

 

“Yes creep. We are in the class.”

 

“So you'd like that when it's just me?”

 

“I don't like anything about you,” Suguru replied, displaying nonchalance. 

 

“We know that's not entirely true.” Suguru could hear that grin in his voice. 

 

“4th floor, after class,” Satoru left no room for refusal.

 

 

 

The washroom door had barely clicked shut when Suguru turned around, only for Satoru to surge forward.

 

“You groped me shithead," Suguru accused, eyes narrowing.

 

Satoru’s mouth curved into a lazy, unrepentant grin as his fingers worked at the top buttons of Suguru’s uniform shirt. 

 

“Could not help it,” he shrugged, voice low and raspy with amusement. “You look fuckable in that bun.”

 

“Not for your fantasies,” Suguru said flatly, refusing to sound impressed even as heat crawled up his neck as he touched his manbun.

 

“Couldn’t care less,” Satoru murmured, leaning in to drag his teeth along the sensitive skin just under Suguru’s jaw.

 

“perv,” Suguru hissed, squeezing his eyes shut for a second before forcing them open again, tone strict and clipped.

 

Satoru chuckled against his throat, the sound warm and wicked. “It weirdly turns you on. Don’t lie, freak.” His hands slid down to grasp Suguru’s waist, thumbs pressing in as he breathed hot against the side of his neck.

 

Suguru’s breath hitched. “Whatever. Grope me in public again and see what happens,” he shot back.

 

Satoru laughed lightly, breathless and pressed closer, fully crowding Suguru against the cold tile wall. In one rough movement he spun him around, chest flushed to Suguru’s back. 

 

“Save these little threats for tonight,” he whispered, tugging Suguru's hair open. He clung to Suguru from behind, grinding his hard-on against the curve of Suguru's clothed ass.

 

“Can’t make it tonight,” Suguru said, a little breathless as a shiver rolled down his spine. “I have—I’m busy.”

 

“No, you’re not.” Satoru’s voice carried a sharp edge of irritation as his fingers worked open the button of Suguru’s high-waisted pants, the fabric hugging his hips. “We don’t have any assignments or anything. What could you possibly be busy with?”

 

“Could be studying. Or watching a film. Or going out. Anything,” Suguru replied carefully, trying to keep his tone steady.

 

Satoru let out a low scoff, digging his fingers into Suguru’s hips and yanking him back flush against his chest. “Pretty unsure for someone busy,” he muttered, lips brushing the shell of Suguru’s ear. “Are you going on an another lousy date?”

 

Suguru felt a flicker of agitation flare in his chest. “You don’t have to know my business, and I don’t owe you anything. Just get on with it already—there’s not much time before our next class.”

 

“You want it so bad, don’t you?” Satoru’s tone shifted. Thankfully, he didn’t press the issue. “Tell me then, princess.”

 

Suguru’s voice dropped to a barely audible whisper. “I want… just the tip?”

 

Satoru chuckled, “Tsk… I’m afraid that's not enough… and that could get us in trouble.”

 

Suguru’s throat bobbed as a soft, reluctant whine slipped out. “Then why did you even call me here? To rub against me like a dog?”

 

Satoru smirked against the side of his neck, fingers hooking into the waistband of Suguru’s pants. “Don't want you walking out of here looking fucked out, do we baby? Or is that a new kink?” His voice was teasing, almost sweet, as he slowly tugged the fabric down.

 

“Not your baby,” Suguru shot back immediately, cheeks burning as cool air hit his exposed skin

 

Satoru only laughed softly. “Let me give you a little taste of tonight then.” He pressed Suguru forward against the wall until his back arched, uniform shirt rucked up high above the curve of his ass.

 

“What are you doing?” Suguru asked, voice breathy with impatience.

 

“Just the tip, like baby wants,” Satoru hummed, groping his ass before reaching for his bag on the floor.

 

Satoru rolled his hips forward again, slowly feeding the thick tip into Suguru, brushing against his rim. “Still want it?” he asked, voice low and rough, teasing laced with concern.

 

Suguru let out a broken moan that melted into a breathless laugh, forehead pressing against the wall. “Satoru…”

 

“Yeah okay… okay.”

 

His cock, slick and glistening with lube, pressed insistently forward. He worked the fat head in with slow, careful press until it finally popped past the tight muscle and sank inside.

 

A sharp cry tore from Suguru’s throat. His whole body shuddered, thighs trembling as a bead of precum dripped from his own neglected cock onto the floor. His hands flexed and clenched uselessly against the wall, fingers spreading then curling into fists. The sting and stretch burned in the best way, exactly how he craved it. He clenched hard around the intrusion, trying to pull Satoru deeper. 

 

“Oh god… just a little more,” he moaned, desperately pushing his hips back, chasing more friction.

 

Satoru let out an amused chuckle behind him. “What did I say? Just the tip was never gonna be enough for you, menace.”

 

“Shut up, dick,” Suguru hissed, though the words came out shaky and needy. “Do it carefully.”

 

Satoru’s grin widened, eyes gleaming as he leaned in closer, lips brushing sloppily with Suguru’s. “Little freak.” 

 

 

 

Later that night.

 

"Satoruu—hhh,” Suguru moaned, loud and shameless beneath him.

 

Satoru fucked the black-haired boy down onto Suguru's creaking dorm bed. He grabbed one strong yet soft ankle and slung it over his shoulder, as he drove his cock even deeper into that maddening heat.

 

Suguru’s lips parted in a perfect, trembling O, eyes fluttering as Satoru rammed his thick cock in and out, stretching him open. His body shivered violently, hot, desperate.

 

“That loser wouldn't know what to do with someone like you,” Satoru grunted, voice rough with pleasure. “Can't believe you would have been sitting through that boring date rather than sitting on my cock.” 

 

Then he surged down, crashing their mouths together in a messy kiss, swallowing the moans.

 

“Mffm—” Suguru managed to shove Satoru back a few inches, chest heaving. “Don’t just kiss me out of nowhere. How many times have I told you?”

 

Satoru let out a low, mocking laugh, lips still brushing Suguru’s jaw. “You like it when I slap you in bed, grope you out of nowhere, why are you being dramatic now?”

 

“Find someone else then if i am dramatic, asshole,” Suguru snarled, already twisting beneath him, trying to shove Satoru off.

 

“Like you’d let that happen,” Satoru gritted out with a slight smile. He caught Suguru’s wrists and slammed them above his head, pinning them to the mattress with one hand. His breath was hot and ragged against Suguru’s neck as hips snapped forward. Harder, driving his cock deep with punishing speed, forcing Suguru’s body to jolt with every thrust.

 

“I’m—ah—not the one sabotaging your potential dates, jerk,” Suguru gasped, words broken by the relentless pounding. "I don’t spill beer on your friends and not even be sorry about it,” he reminded him as he recalled last Halloween when Satoru had “accidentally” dumped beer on the class friend Suguru had been on a date with.

 

And when Satoru had a girlfriend for three whole weeks. It wasn’t Suguru’s fault they broke up.

 

Really. It had nothing to do with the thirst traps Suguru kept posting, or the fact that his private story was only visible to one person. It was because Satoru got bored.

 

The relationship was never going to last anyway. Or what Suguru told himself. Satoru was a freak in every sense of the word, and not everyone could handle that. 

 

He also told himself that he missed getting his brain fucked out by the best dick on campus. Not that he’d tried anyone else. Satoru was still the only one who had ever been inside him.

 

Suguru would never steal someone’s boyfriend. 

 

But how was that his fault when Satoru kept texting him in the middle of his dates? When he’d send late night messages about missing their sexting but he was being “sincere” to his girlfriend? Yeah, right. 

 

That breakup was bound to happen sooner or later.

 

“Today had nothing to do with you,” Satoru muttered, eyes fixed somewhere over Suguru’s shoulder, refusing to meet his gaze. “It was Yuki’s ex-boyfriend. Plus it would have bored you out. So I saved you if anything. I am not in love with you or something.”

 

 “Whatever—Shut up and fuck me. That's all you are here for.”

 

“Say please Satoru,” Satoru whispered with a cocky smile, breathing just as ragged. His hand slid up to grope one of Suguru’s firm pecs, fingers digging into the soft muscle.

 

Suguru rolled his eyes even as another broken whine tore from his throat. “No,” he gasped, then immediately crumbled, voice turning pitiful and desperate. “Ple-please, Satoru… fuck me.”

 

Satoru scoffed, lips curling into a smug smirk. “You're so easy, it's embarrassing." 

 

Suguru rolled his eyes.

 

“Can you be less annoying for once?”

 

“It's your face, prick.”

 

“Get fucked slut.”

 

“You disgust me.”

 

“Get off my dick then,” Satoru gritted again.

 

“I dare you to pull out,” Suguru challenged.

 

Satoru let out a prolonged groan, muffling it against Suguru’s neck as he latched onto the sensitive skin. He dragged his mouth lower and captured one of Suguru’s nipples between his lips, sucking hard while his hips snapped forward roughly.

 

Suguru let himself sink into the pleasure, head falling back against the sheets, breath coming in shaky moans, until Satoru bit down hard enough to sting.

 

“Fuck— idiot, that hurt,” Suguru hissed, body jolting.

 

Satoru didn’t stop. He didn’t even slow down. Releasing his bruising grip on Suguru’s waist, he grabbed Suguru’s face instead, rough fingers digging into his jaw as he continued fucking into him with deep, punishing strokes. A dark, satisfied smirk tugged at his lips as he drank in the scandalized look on Suguru’s face.

 

“But don’t you like it when it hurts?” Satoru taunted, voice rough and mocking. “You don’t like kisses, after all.”

 

“Satoru,” Suguru said, faking a tremor in his voice and his pleading brown eyes.

 

What a freak.

 

Satoru laughed, feathery and mocking, as he pinned both of Suguru’s wrists above his head with one strong hand. His other hand slid down between their bodies, wrapping around Suguru’s leaking cock and giving it a few firm strokes.

 

Suguru’s eyes rolled back instantly, a broken mewl tearing from his throat as Satoru buried himself to the hilt in one sharp thrust, hips snapping forward with force.

 

“Fuck—Satoru!” Suguru choked out, wrists still pinned above his head in Satoru’s unrelenting grip. His back arched off the bed with every punishing thrust, cock leaking steadily over Satoru’s fist.

 

“You love this don't you?” Satoru grunted, voice rough and triumphant as he stroked Suguru faster, thumb pressing cruelly against the sensitive head. “You acting like you hate me, but you like me.”

 

 

“I don't like anything about you,” Suguru’s eyes fluttered, writhing and panting. “You just happened to be attached with probably the best dick ever—I’m—fuck, I’m gonna—”

 

“Oh, you shouldn't have said that,” Satoru chuckled, leaning down to bite hard at Suguru’s neck, hips never slowing. “Come for me then.”

 

The command tipped Suguru over the edge. His whole body seized up, a strangled cry tearing from his throat as he came hard, thick ropes of cum spilling over Satoru’s fist and across his own stomach. His hole clenched rhythmically around Satoru’s cock, milking him as waves of pleasure crashed through him.

 

Satoru groaned deep in his chest, but he didn’t stop. He fucked Suguru straight through his orgasm, dragging out every shuddering wave until Suguru was shaking, oversensitive, and whimpering beneath him.

 

His rhythm faltered, thrusts turned erratic and deeper as his own climax built. Satoru’s head fell forward as his breathing turned ragged. “Shit— Suguru—”

 

With a prolonged moan, Satoru buried himself to the hilt one final time. His hips stuttered, cock pulsing hard as he came deep inside Suguru's fucked out hole. He kept grinding slowly and deep through every twitch and squeeze.

 

Suguru lay there for a moment, chest heaving, body still twitching with aftershocks. Then his expression schooled back.

 

“Ugh,” Suguru muttered, voice hoarse and irritated as he tried to wriggle away. "You are crushing me, idiot. Get off.”

 

Satoru let out a small amused chuckle but didn’t move immediately. He stayed hovering over him, cock still half hard and nestled inside Suguru’s cum-filled hole, hips giving one last lazy grind just to watch Suguru’s face twitch.

 

“Aw, come on you like it raw too lately,” Satoru drawled, voice thick and smug. “ Now you’re back to being a brat?”

 

Suguru’s expression flattened. He gave one last firm push, finally dislodging him. “Ok, don't initiate conversations now. You can leave.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Every time I go out with you guys, I end up shitfaced for free,” Suguru said, leaning against the bar between Utahime and Yuki. “So who else is coming?”

 

Yuki tried, and failed to hide her amusement. “Utahime’s girlfriend… and her friend.”

 

Suguru paused. 

 

So Shoko and Gojo.

 

Suguru leaned against the bar, gaze drifting lazily over the sea of strangers.

 

As he turned to order another drink, a familiar voice cut through the noise.

 

“So you aren't seeing baseball guy anymore?”

 

Suguru rolled his eyes, a smirk already tugging at his lips as he turned. “Hello to the guy I specifically asked not to call.”

 

Satoru grinned, completely unbothered, sliding into the space beside him. “Come on, I don’t even remember what we fought about. By the way, that was the fastest breakup I’ve ever seen. 4 weeks? Situationships last longer than that. So… single now?”

 

Suguru took a slow sip of his drink. “Mhm. Maybe I’ll find someone to go home with tonight.”

 

Satoru chuckled low, eyes glinting with amusement as he leaned in. “That’s a smart way of saying ‘I just broke up and want a shoulder to put my legs on and cry.’”

 

“I am not crying over some fling” Suguru said, turning to face him fully, “ Which means, don’t ruin my plans and leave me alone. You’re giving people the wrong idea.”

 

Satoru stepped closer, voice dropping into a husky whisper, breath warm against Suguru’s ear. “No. It means ‘Satoru, I haven’t been fucked properly in weeks… and you might be the BIG plot of my plans tonight.’”

 

“I don’t need you,” Suguru said flatly.

 

Satoru’s smile came slow and sensual, blue eyes locked on him with that heavy, burning intensity that always made the air feel thinner.

“I’m sure you don’t, babe,” he murmured, voice low and smooth. “We both seem just fine on our own.” He leaned in closer, lips brushing the shell of Suguru’s ear. “But if what you’re really looking for tonight is a good fuck… why not with someone who knows your body."

 

Suguru’s golden-brown eyes flicked up to meet his.

 

"Someone who knows what to expect and give,” Satoru murmured, voice low and velvety. “It’s one of those nights where you wanna give up control… not work that pretty brain of yours and just follow, am i right?"

 

Suguru shook his head, letting out a sharp scoff of disbelief. “You just couldn’t find anyone else tonight.”

 

“Not entirely false,” Satoru whispered, his voice husky and intimate as his hand settled on Suguru’s hip, fingers trailing down to his thigh cladded in dark denim. “I haven’t taken my eyes off you long enough to look for anyone else.”

 

Suguru felt heat rush to his face, a deep crimson spreading across his cheeks. His eyes fluttered shut for a second, resolving to crack under the weight of Satoru’s closeness. He could feel the warmth radiating from Satoru’s body, the faint scent of his cologne, wrapping around Suguru like a slow, seductive pull.

 

That bastard knew exactly what he was doing. A knowing smirk tugged at Satoru’s lips as he tilted his head slightly, a few strands of white hair falling across his forehead.

 

 

 

Suguru was kneeling beside Satoru's bed when Satoru’s low, raspy voice broke the heavy silence.

 

“Come on, give it a kiss. It’s been a while.”

 

There it was.Satoru’s cock right in front of his face, long and girthy even though he wasn’t fully hard yet. The flushed red head leaked steadily, thick veins bulging along the shaft. Suguru’s mouth watered uncontrollably at the sight. Even if not fully hard, Satoru was intimidatingly big.

 

Satoru gripped the base of his cock, slowly dragging the swollen tip across Suguru’s plump lower lip before giving his cheek a light, teasing slap with his tip. Suguru’s breath hitched. Without hesitation, he leaned forward and pressed a soft, obedient kiss to the fat tip.

 

Satoru’s gaze darkened as he watched those pretty, tinted lips part and wrap around him. Suguru sucked him in eagerly, warm and wet and so fucking sultry it made something feral twist low in Satoru’s stomach. The urge to ruin this perfect boy grew harder to control with every second.

 

Suguru’s eyes fluttered shut the moment Satoru grabbed the back of his head and shoved forward, forcing every thick inch straight down his throat in one smooth, relentless thrus.

 

Satoru suddenly grabbed Suguru’s jaw, fingers firm and demanding as he pushed his thick cock past those gorgeous lips. He slid deep into the wet heat of his mouth before pulling back out with a lewd pop, the flushed crown glistening with spit.

 

“I don’t feel like you really want it, Suguru,” Satoru patronized, voice soft and mocking. “Am I supposed to do all the work tonight?”

 

“No— Satoru, no—” Suguru pleaded desperately, eyes wide and glassy. “Fuck, I can do better. I’m sorry. Please…”

 

Satoru sighed and leaned back on his elbow, looking down at him with lazy condescension.

 

“Come on. We don’t have all night.”

 

Suguru crawled forward on his knees, clutching desperately at Satoru’s thigh. His golden-brown eyes were pleading, wet with unshed tears as he gazed up at him.

 

“What is it? Something you wanna say?” Satoru asked, tilting his head with that condescending little smirk, eyes half-lidded.

 

“Want…” Suguru whispered, voice cracking with a small choke, tears pooling heavier in his eyes.

 

Satoru caressed his flushed cheek almost tenderly, a dark smirk curling on his lips. Then his fingers slid into Suguru’s soft dark hair, curling tightly before he yanked his head back sharply. Suguru hissed, the sound melting into a needy moan.

 

“Speak properly,” Satoru ordered.

 

“Want you to… to be rough with me. Please. Anything,” Suguru begged softly, voice trembling with desperation.

 

Satoru scoffed, hooking a firm finger under his chin and tilting his face up. “Anything, you say?”

 

Suguru nodded eagerly, hands gripping Satoru’s thigh tighter.

 

Satoru sighed, almost pitying, then gave a small nod. “Show me what a desperate bottom looks like then.”

 

Suguru surged forward immediately, moaning loudly around the thick cock as he took him deep. He sucked him earnestly, both hands wrapping around the base so he could stroke what his mouth couldn’t reach, desperate and eager to please.

 

“A cockslut Is that what you are,” Satoru grunted, voice low and mean as he pushed Suguru’s head down harder, forcing more of his thick cock into that eager mouth. “Whiny little bottom, is that right?”

 

Suguru’s lips stretched obscenely around him, already flushed a bright, sinful pink from the relentless friction. Satoru didn’t stop. He sank deeper until the head nudged the back of Suguru’s throat, then started thrusting steadily, fucking into his mouth with controlled, punishing strokes.

 

“If I hadn’t been there, you would’ve been on your knees lapping up some average dick, wouldn’t you?” Satoru said, irritation clear on his face, jaw tight.

 

Suguru looked up at him with teary, smudged eyes, shaking his head desperately even with his mouth full, a muffled, pleading sound vibrating around Satoru’s cock.

 

“A whore and a liar,” Satoru sneered. He yanked Suguru off his cock by the hair, forcing him down onto the floor. “You must be loose for someone else right now.”

 

Suguru immediately crawled back toward him on his hands and knees, whimpering pathetically. “No, no, no— please, I’m not,” he begged, voice hoarse and broken.

 

Satoru gripped his cheek firmly, tilting his face up so they were inches apart. His thumb brushed roughly over Suguru’s swollen bottom lip as a soft, dangerous smirk curled on his own

 

“So you’re tight for me, is that right?” he asked, voice deceptively sweet.

 

Suguru nodded eagerly, eyes glassy and desperate.

 

Satoru stared down at him sternly, jaw tight. "But you said you were going to get laid tonight. So what is it? Were you lying to me then… or are you lying to my face right now?”

 

I— uh— I—” Suguru panted, voice breaking with desperation. “Li-lied to you then—”

 

Satoru closed his eyes for a microsecond with a slight disappointing exhale. 

 

Before Suguru could speak, a ringing slap landed across his cheek.

 

The sting bloomed hot across his skin. They had talked about this before, about how far Satoru could get and how much Suguru could take. One word from either of them and everything would stop. But right now, Suguru stayed silent, breathing hard, cheeks and eyes burning.

 

Satoru grabbed his face roughly, forcing their eyes to meet again.

 

“Ought to give you nothing tonight,” he said coldly, voice low and cruel, “and drop you back out there to find some loser who couldn't fuck you half as good as I do.”

 

Suguru looked up at Satoru with wet, pleading eyes, lips trembling.

 

Satoru’s tone was stern and detached, "You’ve pissed me off. Now you’re going to beg for it.”

 

 

Suguru’s eyes widened, a soft sniffle escaping him as his expressive face showed clear apprehension, cheeks flushed and lips trembling.

 

 

Satoru raised an eyebrow, his gaze sharp. “Open your mouth.”

 

 

Suguru hesitated for only a second before obediently parting his lips and sticking his tongue out, eyes glassy with nerves and want.

 

Satoru tapped the thick tip of his cock against Suguru’s tongue a few times, teasing him, before pulling away entirely. Suguru let out a pathetic, needy whimper.

 

 

"Not sure that’s the right way to beg,” Satoru frowned a bit, voice low and disconnected, almost bored. Then a cruel little smirk tugged at his lips. “A needy bottom like you could do better, don’t you think?

 

“Please… I’m sorry,” he whispered hoarsely, close to little whimpers. "I need it, please. I’ve missed you inside of me. Missed being used by you. Don’t want anyone else. Please, Satoru… You could use me.”

 

Satoru’s gaze darkened. Without a word, he unbuckled his belt and pulled it free with a sharp snap.

 

He looped the leather around Suguru’s neck through the buckle and tugged it just tight enough to feel restrictive. The cool leather pressed against Suguru’s throat as he was pushed forward.

 

Satoru yanked the belt forward, forcing Suguru’s head down onto his cock in one rough motion. The thick length slid deep into his throat, stretching his lips wide. Using the belt as leverage, Satoru started fucking his face with sharp, controlled thrusts, pulling Suguru forward every time he drove in, then using it to hold him in place when he wanted him to choke.

 

“Fuck— that’s it,” Satoru groaned, voice rough with pleasure as he threw his head back then down. “Look at yourself, drooling all over my dick.”

 

Suguru gagged wetly, tears streaming down his face as Satoru used the leather to pull him deeper, forcing his nose to press against his pelvis. Spit dripped down his chin in messy strings, but he only moaned desperately around the cock stuffing his mouth.

 

“Desperation looks so pretty on you,” Satoru groaned, his voice throaty and rough as deep moans fell from his lips. He kept a firm grip on the belt looped around Suguru’s neck. “You like being choked on my cock, don’t you? Being fed till your mouth hurts.”

 

Suguru could only respond with a wet, gagging moan, tears streaming down his flushed cheeks. His only answer was a broken, whimpering moan that vibrated around Satoru’s cock, his golden-brown eyes glassy and pleading, thin brows pinched.

 

Satoru roughly pulled out of Suguru’s mouth with a wet pop, strings of spit still connecting his cock to those swollen, crimson lips. He unlooped the belt from around Suguru’s neck and tossed it aside, then leaned down, cradling his jaw with surprising gentleness. His fingers caressed the reddened skin of Suguru’s throat before he pressed soft, open mouthed kisses on the abused skin.

 

Suguru looked completely fucked out. face flushed a deep, feverish crimson, eyes glassy and unfocused, body language limp.

 

Then, without warning, he was shoved face-down onto the bed.

 

Suguru barely had time to catch himself before a sharp, stinging slap landed hard on his ass. The impact made him cry out into the pillow, the pain blooming into something deliciously hot. He buried his face deeper into the sheets, ass instinctively pushing back for more.

 

Satoru rubbed his large palm over the heated, reddening skin, voice form yet considerate. “Still with me?”

 

Suguru turned his head just enough to look back over his shoulder, hair wild, eyes dazed and wet, cheeks burning. His voice came out hoarse and breathless. “Yeah…”

 

“Still on board with what we discussed in the car?”

 

Suguru’s breath hitched. He nodded against the pillow. “Yeah…”

 

Satoru sighed deeply. “You let me know immediately if it gets to that. Understand?”

 

Suguru nodded quickly, face half-buried in the pillow.

 

Another sharp, resounding slap cracked across Suguru’s ass, harder this time, the sound echoing obscenely in the room. Suguru jolted forward with a muffled cry, burying his face deeper into the pillow as heat bloomed violently across his skin.

 

“Answer properly!” Satoru's voice was low and authoritative.

 

“Ah—! Yes—!” Suguru gasped, voice breaking. “I’m still with you— please I beg—”

 

He pushed his ass higher in the air, a clear sign of submission, thighs trembling as he offered himself up completely.

 

“Look at that,” Satoru murmured, voice dripping with mocking affection. “Ass up like a whore, crying so prettily for me.”

 

Even though they were skipping Suguru's prep, Satoru still poured a generous amount of lube over his cock, stroking himself slowly to coat every thick inch. He pressed the blunt head against Suguru’s entrance and began pushing in.

 

The stretch was intense. Suguru’s eyes squeezed shut tightly, lips pressed into a thin line as he fought back the sob threatening to spill out. The sting radiated through his body, sharp and deep, but beneath it was that addictive throb of pleasure he craved.

 

“F-fuck—!” Suguru gasped, voice cracking, toes curling and his fingers clawing desperately at the sheets.

 

Satoru tutted.

 

"Hurts, right?” he cooed, voice sickeningly sweet he continued, "But you are just that pathetic are you?” Voice husky and mocking as he forced another inch inside. "Can’t help yourself but get off on the pain."

 

Suguru let out a shaky, teary moan, fingers clawing at the sheets as Satoru kept pushing in deeper, claiming every inch of him.

 

Satoru’s fingers dug hard into the soft, bruised flesh of Suguru’s ass, gripping him possessively as he slammed in deep. His voice came out in a low, guttural growl. 

 

“This is fucking mine tonight,” he snarled, squeezing harder, nails biting into skin. “Every single inch for me to take.”

 

Suguru moaned brokenly, pushing back against him desperately, completely on the same wavelength. “Yes— fuck— I want that,” he gasped, voice wrecked and needy. “Give it to me however you want… however you need— please take—” He pushed his ass back to meet Satoru's slow thrusts, hoping he would get the hint he sought and pick up his pace.

 

Satoru’s hips snapped forward with renewed pace. His breath was hot and ragged against Suguru’s ear as he continued, voice dark and dripping with hunger.

 

“Gonna use you till I please,” he growled. “Gonna keep you moaning and pliant, fuck you stupid until you’re nothing but an incoherent, drooling mess. Until the only thing left in that pretty head is me and my cock.”

 

Suguru let out a shattered cry, eyes rolling back as Satoru drove the words deeper into his mind and insides. He pushed back harder and rolled his hips moaning and groaning and that was the last straw for Satoru.

 

He only tightened his grip on Suguru’s hips, pulling him back harder onto his cock as he pounded into him even deeper, faster, more mercilessly. The wet, obscene sound of skin slapping skin filled the room alongside Suguru’s broken sobs and whimpers.

 

Suguru cried out, voice cracking and hoarse. His legs were shaking violently, barely holding him up as pleasure bordered on pain and pain on pleasure. He was so full, so ruined, that he could barely think.

 

But Satoru only snarled and slammed forward harder, pinning Suguru down with his full weight. One strong arm wrapped around Suguru’s waist yanking his hips back onto his cock while the other hand fisted in his dark hair, forcing his face back into the pillow.

 

Suguru thrashed beneath him as he pushed his ass back to meet his wild thrusts, mewling as he reached back with one hand and dragged his nails hard down Satoru’s side, leaving bright red scratches across his skin. 

 

Satoru hissed at the sting, then chuckled darkly. He grabbed Suguru’s wrist and slammed it down onto the bed, pinning it above his head with one hand while the other cracked across his already red ass.

 

“Fucking brat,” Satoru growled, voice rough with arousal. He leaned down, biting the back of Suguru’s neck as he pounded into him. “You love this, don’t you? Fighting me?”

 

Suguru moaned loudly, still squirming and trying to twist away, but his hips kept rolling back to take every savage thrust. “Fuck please— ahh—!” Another hard slap landed on his ass, making him sob into the pillow. He choked on his own saliva as his hand found Satoru's arm to claw.

 

Satoru’s head fell back with a guttural moan, eyes squeezing shut for a moment as overwhelming pleasure crashed through him. His mouth hung open, breath coming in harsh pants, sweat dripping down his neck and torso. Every clench of Suguru’s hole around his cock made his hips stutter, the tight, wet heat driving him closer to the edge.

 

“Taking me so fucking well— good boy, such a good fucking baby—”Satoru panted, Fuck— fuck— fuck, that’s it.”

 

Suguru’s cries turned into a broken, quavering mess.

 

“Sah—! Sa— Satoru— fuck— too fast— hah— ah— ah— please—!” His voice cracked and trembled with every thrust, words slurring together into desperate, incoherent blabbering. “S’too much— Satoru— Satoru— uhh— can’t— fuck— gonna— ahhh—!”

 

Satoru leaned over him, breathing hard, a wicked smirk on his lips as he watched Suguru fall apart.

 

“Poor baby,” he cooed mockingly, voice dripping with fake sympathy as he pounded into him. “Did I break you?”

 

Suguru could only sob and babble helplessly in response, eyes rolling back, body shaking uncontrollably as Satoru railed him without mercy.

 

Satoru forced his eyes open, looking down at the ruined, helpless mess beneath him, and snarled, “Cum. Right now.” His thrusts grew sloppier, more desperate, his own release barreling closer as he used Suguru’s body without mercy.

 

Suguru's orgasm hit like a freight train. He screamed, a raw, shattered wail tearing from his throat as thick ropes of cum splattered across the sheets. His hole clenched violently around Satoru’s cock, pulsing and milking him desperately.

 

Satoru slammed in deep one final time, burying himself to the hilt as he came hard. Thick, hot ropes of cum flooded Suguru’s abused hole. Satoru kept grinding through it, hips twitching as he pumped every last drop inside, painting Suguru’s insides.

 

His mind was completely blank, floating in a thick, warm fog. Every breath felt heavy, like his lungs were filled with honey

 

When he finally pulled out with a wet, filthy sound, a thick gush of his cum immediately spilled from Suguru’s wrecked, puffy hole. The rim was swollen and glistening, coated obscenely in Satoru’s load. Rivulets, dripping down onto the sheets, the sight utterly lewd.

 

Satoru stared down at it, breathing hard, a dark, satisfied smirk on his face as he watched.“Fuck… look at that,” he muttered hoarsely, thumb spreading the mess around Suguru’s stretched rim. “All full and used-up.”

 

Suguru lay there completely limp, face half-buried in the pillow, eyes glassy and unfocused, staring at nothing. His breathing was slow and shallow, chest rising and falling in tiny, uneven puffs. Every few seconds his body gave a small, involuntary twitch, thighs trembling faintly as aftershocks rolled through him. He looked utterly wrecked, flushed, tear streaked, and floating somewhere far away.

 

Satoru’s expression softened instantly.

 

He collapsed beside Suguru, rolling onto his side and immediately pulling the other boy against his chest.

 

“C’mere,” he murmured, one arm wrapped around Suguru loosely, one leg hooking over Suguru’s thigh to keep him close, while the other hand slid into his damp black hair, gently carding through it. “You okay?”

 

Suguru barely reacted, only letting out a tiny, breathy sigh.

 

“You were so good, baby,” Satoru murmured, pressing feather light kisses to Suguru’s forehead, his tear-streaked cheeks, the corner of his swollen lips. “So perfect for me. Always so perfect.”

 

Suguru made a tiny, barely audible sound, something between a sigh and a whimper but didn’t speak. His eyes remained half-lidded and distant, body heavy and pliant in Satoru’s arms like all the tension had been drained out of him. He barely reacted when Satoru carefully wiped him down, only letting out a soft, breathy exhale when Satoru kissed the corner of his mouth.

 

Satoru kissed his shoulder, then slipped out of bed for a moment. He returned with a soft towel-wrapped ice pack. Suguru hissed softly at the cold, but didn’t pull away.

 

“Easy, I have got you,” Satoru murmured, voice low and gentle. “This’ll help.” He held the ice pack in place with one hand while the other continued stroking Suguru’s hair and back.

 

Suguru stayed quiet and heavy in his arms, eyes half-lidded and distant, completely unresponsive except for the occasional small twitch or soft exhale. 

 

“Drink a little,” Satoru coaxed softly, holding the bottle to Suguru’s lips. Suguru took a few slow, obedient sips, eyes still distant. Satoru wiped the corner of his mouth with his thumb, murmuring, “Good boy.”

 

Satoru kept holding him close, occasionally adjusting the ice pack, murmuring quiet praises and rubbing slow, comforting patterns over his skin until Suguru’s breathing evened out into deep, exhausted sleep.

 

“Just rest,” he murmured softly against Suguru’s forehead. “I’m gonna run you a warm bath, okay?”

 

Suguru stayed quiet, limp and unresponsive in his arms, lost in the heavy, floating haze, safe, warm, and completely spent.

 

 

 

 

 

The sophomore year was winding down, with four months left until their exams.

 

"On a scale of 1 to 10, how nice did you want me to be to those Osaka losers?” Satoru asked, the lollipop stick still dangling from his teeth as they exited the auditorium together after the interschool excursion seminar.

 

Suguru sighed. “You were being passive aggressive the whole time, and you even gave them the wrong directions. They’re students like us, and our guests, Satoru.”

 

Satoru shrugged, pretending to be unbothered. “Well, one of the guests couldn’t seem to keep his eyes and hands off you. Creep.”

 

“You were flirting with their head girl too,” Suguru shot back. “Besides, what’s it to you? I know I get approached a lot. I’m used to it. Maybe I even gave him a hint back and you just didn’t notice.”

 

Satoru suddenly stopped walking. They were in the quiet hallway near the library now. He pulled off his sunglasses, revealing sharp blue eyes narrowed in irritation.

 

“Barely flirting. I just like the attention,” he said, voice lower now. “And you did not give him any hints. I would know.” 

 

“Maybe I did,” Suguru replied calmly, a hint of challenge in his tone. “I like the attention too. In fact… we exchanged numbers later."

 

Satoru stepped closer, invading his space. “You’re joking.”

 

Suguru met his gaze without flinching. “No, Satoru. I’m not. We did exchange numbers.”

 

“So what now? You’re gonna text him?” Satoru asked, trying to sound casual.

 

“Yeah, maybe I will,” Suguru replied coolly. “Is there a problem?”

 

“Y-you— no,” Satoru stammered, quickly correcting himself. “He’s not even interesting. He gives off this weird energy. He’s not a nice guy.”

 

Suguru raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “You just met him. And you were the one being not nice to him the entire time.”

 

“I have my sources,” Satoru insisted, stepping closer. “People I know from Kyoto he did a program with. Suguru, he’s bad news.”

 

Suguru frowned, shaking his head. “Tadashi doesn’t give off any bad energy. I’ll figure it out for myself before I jump into conclusions.”

 

“Oh, so he has a name now?” Satoru’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

 

“The fuck? Of course he has a name, Satoru. Aren't you supposed to know from your sources? You lied, didn't you?” 

 

“I just don’t like this guy.”

 

“Well, good for you. Hop off his dick.”

 

“So you can hop on?”

 

Suguru let out an exasperated breath. “I’d like to get to know him first. Go on dates.”

 

Satoru scoffed.

 

Suguru was pissed now.

 

“What is it?”

 

“Nothing, just…” Satoru shrugged, the mindless taunt tumbling out before he could stop. “It doesn’t take all that hassle to get into your pants."

 

The moment the words left his mouth, he regretted it. And the hallway felt too quiet.

 

Satoru looked back at Suguru and immediately regretted it even more.

 

Suguru remained unmoving, staring at him with an unreadable expression. Then he blinked slowly, and his eyes glistened with unshed tears. His fingers tightened around the strap of his bag.

 

Satoru reached out to flick Suguru’s bangs, trying to show he was just joking, but Suguru swatted his hand away a little too hard.

Without another word, he turned and started walking. “Don’t talk to me.”

 

“Suguru, listen—” Satoru tried to pacify him, quickly following behind and reaching for his wrist.

 

“I’m not talking to you!” Suguru snapped, whipping around. His eyes were bright with anger, but the intensity only made him look painfully beautiful. On any other day, Satoru would have gotten turned-on just from that look.

 

“Oh come on,” Satoru said, his tone changing in his usual uncaring manner. “You know I didn’t mean it. We’re always saying rude things to each other.”

 

“Never shamed you for having sex, asshole, like I am the only one doing it,” Suguru bit out. He turned on his heel and continued walking toward the stairs, Satoru trailing after him like a puppy.

 

“I know,” Satoru admitted regretfully, still following close behind. “I’m sorry, baby, I just—”

 

“Don’t call me that,” Suguru snapped, climbing the stairs faster. “Just leave me alone.”

 

“You’re valid to be upset, Suguru,” Satoru said, his voice turning more serious, “but we will talk later.”

 

 

 

The drizzly atmosphere behind the glass turned the library light grey and thin the next day.

 

Suguru’s pen moved steadily across his notes, ignoring the familiar presence shuffling closer.

 

A shadow fell over his table.

 

Suguru turned a page.

 

Then a bag thumped onto the table, one strap still hooked on Satoru’s shoulder.

 

“Hi,” Satoru tried. His voice was scraped thin. “Looks like it’s gonna rain heavy today. The weathe—”

 

“What is it, Satoru?” Suguru finally glanced up. His gaze was flat.

 

Satoru looked like he hadn’t slept well last night, judging by the late night missed calls and texts he left that Suguru saw in the morning and didn’t reply to. He most likely hadn’t.

 

“Okay,” Satoru muttered, more to himself. “Can I sit?”

 

“Hm.” Suguru turned back to his book.

 

Satoru walked around the table, approaching the seat beside him. Suguru’s hand moved fast — snatched his own bag up and dropped it into that chair instead. 

 

Satoru exhaled a helpless laugh through his nose and shook his head. He dragged out the chair opposite instead. 

 

“Still mad at me?” he asked, quieter now.

 

“I don’t want to talk to you,” Suguru said flatly, not even looking at him.

 

“Please,” Satoru tried again, voice softer this time.

 

“No.”

 

Satoru let out a quiet breath, then quirked an eyebrow, slightly teasing, more desperate. “Do you expect me to beg? Would that actually get you to listen?”

 

Satoru’s eyes drifted down unknowingly, catching on the top two undone buttons of Suguru’s shirt. The faint dip of skin that disappeared beneath cotton. 

 

“Start by looking me in the eye when you are trying to apologize,” Suguru reminded firmly. 

 

Satoru scrubbed a hand through his already messy hair, letting out a sheepish smile.

 

“Yeah sorry,” he breathed. “You’re right.”

 

Suguru raised an eyebrow, urging him to continue. 

 

“I need you to know that…” Satoru restarted quieter. “I really, really didn’t mean to shame you. Or anything. And I shouldn’t have said that. I don't even think that. It was… low.”

 

His hand twitched on the table between them. It was obvious in the aborted movement that he wanted to reach out, in the way his eyes flicked down to where Suguru’s hand rested against the book, then back up. 

 

Satoru let out a slow breath.“I want to be honest with you,” he said quietly. “At first, I didn’t really give a shit about your feelings. Maybe a little. That’s just how we’ve always been between us, right?” He rubbed the back of his neck, gaze dropping for a second before lifting again. “But… that’s not the case anymore. I can’t not care… about how you feel… about you. And I’m not—” Satoru swallowed. 

 

His throat worked around words. “I’m not one of those guys who doesn’t respect people he sleeps with.” The sentence came out clipped and defensive, before he forced himself to soften. “But I’d like to think… We have something outside of that too. Even when we fight. When we’re shitty to each other. We talk about everything or nothing, and laughing. We trust each other with our bodies. I'd say we have also been pretty good lately. I don't wanna lose…” 

 

A beat. A look. 

 

“That trust?” he said finally, like he was testing the word. 

 

Suguru’s mouth twitched.

 

“I feel incredibly sorry that I disrespected that,” Satoru finished. “Our mutual respect.” 

 

Suguru ducked his head to hide, clearing his throat to hide his almost smile.

 

Then Satoru looked up. 

 

God, the puppy eyes. His eyebrows doing that stupid, hopeful pinch. 

 

“Did you write it somewhere?” Suguru’s voice was dry, but there was a thread of something soft under it.

 

Satoru blinked. “No. I got shit scared of you and just came up with it.” His shoulders dropped an inch with a helpless chuckle.

 

"Scared of me?"

 

Both of them cracked. Little smiles. Real, toothy, stupid ones. 

 

“Anything else? You look pathetic already,” Suguru tilted his head. The corner of his mouth hadn’t quite flattened yet. 

 

“Uh— yeah. Actually, just a sec.” 

 

Satoru fumbled his bag off his shoulder, nearly knocking over a water bottle. He dug through it one-handed, muttering, “Please don't crumble—” 

 

Slowly, he pulled out a sunflower.

 

Suguru froze.

 

Satoru didn’t look at him when he held it out. Turned his face a fraction to the side, ears going pink. 

 

“F-for you,” he managed. “It’s nothing really. Don't worry, I’m not in love with you or anything. You said once that you like sunflowers— and a rose would be weird. Not that I… I mean, anyone can give any flower. It doesn’t have to be roman—” 

 

 

“Shut up.” Suguru’s hand shot out and caught Satoru’s wrist.

 

Chairs scraped. Suguru was already moving, dragging Satoru by the wrist behind the stacks.

 

“Sug—” 

 

Suguru cut him off with his mouth. 

 

He stepped in and grabbed Satoru’s face, fingers pressing into his cheeks, kissing him hard enough to choke his words.

 

Satoru’s brain stalled for half a second before his body caught up. One hand dropped to Suguru’s ass, yanking him flush against him. The other saved the sunflower from getting crushed between them.

 

He moaned into the kiss. Suguru took it, hands squishing Satoru’s face.

 

When he pulled back, they were both breathing too fast. 

 

“You’re lucky you can be cute,” Suguru breathed out with a smirk.

 

Satoru bit his grin, squeezing Suguru’s ass. “Well, I am cute.” His eyes dropped to Suguru’s mouth, then back up. “So let me make it up to you?”

 

Suguru glanced at the gap between the shelves. “washroom, follow after 5 minutes,” he said.

 

 

 

 

Maybe this hadn’t been the plan, but after that Satoru and Suguru kept ending up together even when the clothes stayed on. They talked about everything and nothing, tangled on Satoru's couch or sprawled across the floor with half empty takeout boxes between them.

 

Suguru found himself noticing things he never had before. The way Satoru’s laughter would bubble up without warning, soft at first, then loud and unrestrained, head thrown back like a little kid. That sound had quietly become one of his favorites.

 

He also caught details he’d somehow missed before. The small dimples that appeared when Satoru grinned wide enough. The way his eyes crinkled at the corners. How his hair fell messily across his forehead.

 

Satoru was kinder than he gave himself credit for. He could come off as loud and brash, but underneath all that was a surprising gentleness. The kind that matched his ridiculous sweet tooth.

 

Satoru was good at too many things. One of them was guitar.

 

He had played a few quiet tunes in front of Suguru on lazy evenings, fingers moving easily over the strings while he sat cross legged on the floor. Sometimes he scribbled little lyrics here and there'z nothing too serious in own words, just fragments and something to give the music. Suguru liked listening to them. There was something disarmingly gentle about watching Satoru like that, his fluffy head bent over his guitar, humming under his breath.

 

Suguru felt like he was seeing Satoru up close for the first time, reading him like pages he hadn’t known were there.

 

Satoru hadn’t planned on noticing these things either.

 

He didn’t expect to not mind Suguru’s hair tie absentmindedly around his own wrist, or how his oversized shirt hung loose on Suguru’s frame, while he sat on the kitchen counter in nothing but his little socks. He didn’t mind when Suguru casually reached over and stole food from his plate, the same food Suguru had turned down ten minutes earlier. And he found himself strangely content just watching Suguru read. 

 

Satoru learned that Suguru preferred soft, mellow songs when his head got too loud. He also learned that Suguru loved the sound of rain. Satoru started thinking of Suguru as his own kind of rain, soft sound and soothing to touch. 

 

He even remembered Suguru coffee orders and his surprising spice tolerance that was better than his own.

 

Suguru had a little vintage camera he carried around to capture random moments. Mostly nature, or small everyday things. He took pictures of his friends too, and sometimes he'd not so subtly record Satoru.

 

And then there were the small trinkets Suguru kept. He’d mentioned them once, almost offhandedly. The brooch from his mom, a few seashells his friend Utahime had brought back from the coast, a tiny bodhi tree charm from his grandmother, and an old tamagotchi.

 

Satoru didn't mind picking up a small teddy bear keychain for him, nothing fancy, just something. He didn’t make a big deal out of giving it, just tossed it onto Suguru’s lap one evening with a casual “Saw this and thought of you.”

 

And when Suguru smiled, eyes crinkling into half moons, and kissed him on the cheek. Satoru’s heart didn’t do that weird little flip as he half heartedly wiped it. Not at all.

 

 

 

 

It was the last day of their exam.

 

Satoru's car was parked on a quiet hillside overlooking a serene lake, the sun’s descent painting the sky in a kaleidoscope of soft pinks, purples, oranges, and deep violets. Suguru reclined lazily in the back seat, his head nestled comfortably in Satoru's lap as they lit their cigarettes in the dim, golden light.

 

The hazy scent of smoke curled through the air, mingling with the quiet murmurs and lazy conversation they exchanged. They rarely smoked, and had given in once again tonight.

 

As the sky continued to transform into a gorgeous canvas of color, Suguru gazed out the window, voice soft with wonder.

 

“Breathtaking, right?”

 

 

Satoru’s eyes followed Suguru's gaze for a moment before they drifted back down to the boy in his lap. His pupils dilated slowly as he took in the sight.

 

Suguru bathed in the warm hues of sunset, lashes casting long shadows on his flushed cheeks. Satoru curled a strand of soft hair behind Suguru's ear, his thumb gently grazing the younger man’s bottom lip.

 

“So very,” Suguru whispered, voice low and husky, eyes never leaving Satoru’s face.

 

Suguru’s laughter was warm like the shaft of sunlight as he sat up, his arms wrapping around Satoru. “Aren’t you the charmer?” 

 

Satoru’s smile was radiant, eyes sparkling with mirth as he looked at him.

 

Suguru’s voice dropped to a whisper, barely audible over the gentle lapping of the lake’s waters. “You can watch me anytime.”

 

“Mhm,” Satoru hummed, cigarette dangling from his lips as he reached behind the seat and fished out Suguru’s vintage camera. He turned it over in his hands, a playful glint in his eyes.

“Stay still… or don’t. Just be natural. Keep talking.”

 

Suguru let out a soft, embarrassed huff, cheeks warming. “This is ridiculous,” he muttered, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward. The golden light of the sunset caught in his black hair, turning stray strands a warm reddish-brown that framed his face beautifully. He didn’t know what to do, so he just looked away, suddenly self-conscious under the lens.

 

Satoru lifted the camera to his eye, adjusting the focus with a small smirk. “Perfect dead wife montage.”

 

Suguru’s head snapped back toward him, eyes wide with mock offense. 

 

“You get shy, that’s why I told you to keep talking and be natural,” Satoru said around the cigarette between his lips. “Your dorm room always smells nice,” he continued casually, still looking through the lens. “What smell is it?”

 

Suguru let out a soft, reluctant chuckle. The camera clicked right at that moment.

 

“Sandalwood and incense, sometimes black coconut scented candle,” Suguru answered, a small smile playing on his lips.

 

Satoru lowered the camera slightly. “Okay, your turn. Ask me something.”

 

“What superpower would you want?”

 

“Triangle,” Satoru replied instantly. “Place you’d want to go alone at least once?” he asked next next immediately.

 

Suguru burst into full laughter, eyes squeezing shut with amusement. The camera clicked again.

 

“Corsica!”

 

Satoru grinned. “Because of Asterix?”

 

Suguru blinked in surprise. “How do you know that?”

 

“You told me about Asterix in Corsica,” Satoru said, like it was the simplest thing in the world. “So I figured.”

 

“Do you wanna come over tonight and watch something?" Satoru asked, lowering the camera and setting it gently on the seat behind him.

 

Suguru, who was comfortably settled on Satoru’s lap, let out a low sigh. His fingers played idly with the white strands of hair at Satoru’s nape looking out of the window. “No, Satoru. I do not want to watch Digimon or Naruto after our finals. No offense.”

 

Satoru groaned dramatically, wrapping both arms around Suguru’s waist and pulling him closer. “Fine,” he drawled. “We can watch one of your artsy French or Korean films.”

 

Suguru glanced back at him with a raised eyebrow. “Last time you got worked up during the sex scenes and didn't let me watch anything.”

 

“Can you blame me?” Satoru grinned, nuzzling into his neck. “You were sitting next to me in one of your long shirts and those little socks of yours, plus the heroine looked like you. Down to the bangs. Call it Bisexuality.”

 

Suguru’s cheeks warmed, but he kept his tone dry. “Well, I’m not in the mood for sex tonight, so we’re sticking with sci-fi.”

 

Satoru went quiet for a moment, his arms tightening slightly around Suguru’s waist. Then, almost too casually, he murmured against his skin.

 

“Suguru?”

 

“Hm?”

 

"What are we?"

 

“Oh my god,” Suguru groaned, lightly pushing at Satoru’s chest, though he made no real effort to move from his lap.

 

Satoru just grinned, arms still loosely wrapped around his waist. “No, shut up. Like—we’re not lovers, obviously. Not… enemies anymore, for sure. So what are we?”

 

Suguru tilted his head, pretending to think seriously, then let out a loud sigh. “I’m afraid we’re friends now, Satoru. Yeah how did that happen?”

 

Satoru scoffed, squeezing Suguru's ass through the fabric. “Friends with benefits, more like.

 

Suguru let out a soft laugh. “It was nice wishing death on you often.”

 

“I genuinely wanted to kill you in our first year even if I had hots for you,” Satoru said, voice casual like he was commenting on the weather. "Just joking.”

 

“The feeling was mutual, bro. Not joking.”

 

Satoru’s smirk turned wicked. “Mhm. Are you gonna be fucking yourself open on your bro’s thick and long cock?”

 

“Sh-shut up pervert,” Suguru muttered, cheeks heating as he tried to hide his embarrassing laugh.

 

“Can you blow me in the backseat, bro?” Satoru murmured, leaning in to drag his tongue slowly along the side of Suguru’s neck.

 

“Oh my god, you are so annoying,” Suguru groaned, tilting his head away even as a reluctant smile tugged at his lips. “That’s not what I meant at all.”

 

“Mhmmm, I’m so fucking hard for you, bro, can you feel it?” Satoru snickered against his skin, voice low and teasing. He sucked a deliberate hickey just below Suguru’s jaw, one hand sliding possessively down to squeeze his thigh.

 

Suguru let out a feathery laugh, as he shoved weakly at Satoru’s shoulder. “You’re gross. Please jump out of the car.”

 

 

 

 

Saturday nights were hangout nights.

 

Suguru leaned against the bar counter, slowly sipping his martini as his eyes swept over the crowded room. The dim lights caught on his black nail polish with every small movement. He was waiting for Satoru's arrival.

 

“A pretty one like you, all by yourself?” a smug voice drawled. A stranger slid into the seat he had reserved for Satoru, wearing a fake apologetic smirk. “Couldn’t help but notice.”

 

“Not interested,” Suguru replied, forcing an uneasy smile as he took a step back.

 

“Oh, come on. At least let me buy you a drink— wait! Where are my manners? Let me introduce myself first—”

 

Suguru opened his mouth to shut him down, but a familiar raspy, and definitely pissed off voice cut through the noise.

 

"Not interrupting anything important, am I?"

 

Satoru appeared at his side, one hand sliding possessively onto Suguru’s hip. The stranger’s irritated gaze flicked from Satoru’s face down to the hand on Suguru’s hip.

 

“You’re in my seat,” Satoru said calmly, reaching over to take a slow sip from Suguru’s drink through the straw. His eyes stayed locked on the man the entire time. “And this,” he tilted his head towards Suguru with a small smirk, “is mine.”

 

Suguru’s stomach flipped hard.  

 

He had never wanted to drop to his knees and suck Satoru’s dick so badly in his entire life.

 

Outside the club, the night air was alive with the hum of neon signs and the distant thrum of music. Satoru and Suguru emerged, their laughter and banter filling the sidewalk.

 

As they strolled away from the club, the pavement beneath their feet was dotted with discarded cigarette butts and crumbling leaves.

 

 "That was so fun!" 

 

Suguru chimed in, "Totally! So what's the next plan?" 

 

“Bar hopping,” Suguru winked. “Your pick.”

 

 

The quiet hum of the music flooded the room as guests don headphones, their movements matched the beat only they could hear. Colored lights danced around the room, creating a vibrant yet intimate atmosphere. The room was a clatter of laughter and movement, each person lost in their own sonic world. 

 

Behind the bar, mixologists expertly crafted unique concoctions, the sound of ice clinking in glasses adding to the ambience. The menu boasted an array of cocktails, the smell of alcohol and different scents hanging in the air.

 

Suguru leaned in close to Satoru's ear, his voice dizzy. "It's too loud," he shouted, his eyes scanning the vibrant scene before them.

 

Satoru pulled a surprised face. "No way, loud in a disco?" he said dramatically. "Welcome to silent disco, princess." 

 

He handed Suguru a pair of sleek headphones. "Wear these and switch to whatever channel you like.”

 

As Suguru donned the headphones, the beats began to seep into his brain. He started to sway, his fingers snapping tentatively at first.

 

Satoru, already entranced by the music, swayed beside him, his foot swishing slowly from side to side. His head bobbed, and his eyes closed, letting the rhythm consume him.

 

Suguru's fingers danced across the headset controls, landing on channel 3. 

 

The familiar beat electrified him, and he excitedly tapped Satoru's shoulder.

 

Satoru, lost in the music with his eyes closed, swayed back and forth, his body moving in perfect sync. He opened his eyes to find Suguru asking him to change the channel, looking like an excited kid.

 

His eyes gleamed as he switched to channel 3, his amused toothy smile mirroring Suguru's giddy one.

 

Forty days and forty nights

I waited for someone like you

To come and save my life

 

Suguru, caught in the music’s infectious grip, body swaying side to side, loose and unselfconscious.

 

Satoru fell into step beside him, their slow, side by side sway a playful mirror of each other’s movements.

 

Recall the days I waited for you

You know the ones who said

I'd never find someone like you

 

Suguru wrapped his arms around his neck, and Satoru's hands snaked around his waist like they were meant to be there, like it was just right.

 

Cause you were out of my league

All the things I believe

 

Together, they moved their heels to the rhythm, lost in the beat and the moment.

 

You were just the right kind

Yeah, you were more than just a dream

If I die don't wake me

Cause you are more than just a dream

 

Satoru held out his hand and spun him into a halfway twirl, pulling him closer. That same scent of Suguru's signature perfume assaulted his senses, sending his brain into a spin.

 

As they drew nearer, Satoru's face brushed against his neck, making his mind a helpless mess. Suguru's neck lolled to the side, his body surrendering to the moment.

 

Satoru's hand inched down, tracing the contours of his curves. 

 

Satoru looked down at him with a lopsided, drowsy smile, eyes half lidded. The colorful lights caught in his white hair and danced across his flushed cheeks. He lifted one hand, tapping his own lips twice with his index finger, then leaned in slightly and tapped Suguru’s bottom lip twice softly, and unmistakably suggestive.

 

That earned him a fond eyeroll. And their lips met, and it wasn't clean. 

 

Satoru took his mouth open, hot and sloppy. Suguru made a low sound and let him in. It was wet, desperate, all teeth and breath and the taste from Satoru’s last drink. Suguru’s hands fisted in the front of Satoru’s shirt, yanking him closer. 

 

Satoru licked into his mouth like he owned it. Suguru bit his bottom lip hard enough to sting, then soothed it with his tongue. 

 

Satoru’s hand slid down Suguru’s back. Suguru tilted his head, chasing the angle, deepening it. 

 

Someone bumped into them. They broke apart for half a second, panting.

 

Satoru’s eyes were blown wide, pupils eating the blue. “Fuck,” he breathed. Voice wrecked. 

 

Suguru licked his lips, tasting Satoru. “Yeah.” His thumb swiped over Satoru’s wet bottom lip. “Take me home.” 

 

 

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬

They struggled with shaking, drunken hands for only a moment to open the door, but once they were in Satoru’s room, he was on him again.

 

Suguru’s hands were already under Satoru’s shirt, palms flat against hot skin. Satoru licked deep into his mouth, it was sloppier than in the club. No club music to cover the slick slides of tongues, teeth clacking when Satoru kissed him hard and fast.

 

The moment the back of Suguru’s knees hit the mattress, they both tumbled onto it in a clumsy heap, still fully clothed.

 

The kiss was slow, heavy, and drowsy. Nothing like their usual.Their mouths moved lazily against each other, warm and wet, tongues sliding together in unhurried strokes. Clothes rubbed softly with every small shift of their bodies, the friction slow and soothing. Hands wandered without urgency, sliding under shirts, tracing warm skin, threading through hair.

 

Every movement felt delayed, softened by alcohol. Satoru’s lips were plush and slightly slack, tasting like sweet cocktails and mint. Suguru’s eyes were half-lidded, hazy with drink, long lashes fluttering as he sighed into Satoru’s mouth.

 

Their eyes would meet for a few seconds, heavy, glassy, and soft. Before their mouths found each other again. Breaths mingled, warm and sweet. Soft, drunk little sounds escaped them, quiet hums, and occasional sighs.

 

When Satoru finally pulled back, his face was beautifully flushed from alcohol, cheeks pink and eyes heavy-lidded. A soft, almost gentle smirk played on his swollen lips.

 

Suguru stared up at him, drunk and mesmerized. He reached out with a shaky hand, fingertips gently tracing the outline of Satoru’s face, along his jaw, over his cheekbone, brushing the corner of his mouth. Maybe it was the alcohol playing tricks on his mind, or maybe it was the soft glow of the bedside lamp, but Satoru’s eyes looked bioluminescent. Bright, glowing, almost unreal. Did they always look like that? 

 

Satoru’s eyes scrunched slightly, a flicker of something vulnerable crossing his face. Suguru froze, suddenly worried he’d done something wrong.

 

“I… I don’t understand,” he murmured, voice unusually quiet.

 

Suguru furrowed his brows, waiting.

 

Satoru looked down for a moment, then back up, his words coming out soft and a little sad. “It’s like there’s two of you. There's you who looks at me like I’m just… everyone else.”

 

“And then there’s you… the one who looks at me like… you are looking at me right now." He swallowed. "It’s just… I don’t know what I’m saying.”

 

Suguru looked at him with those pinched, pleading eyes, his lips parted as if the words were stuck somewhere in his throat. His voice came out mellow and fragile,  “You’re worrying me a little now.”

 

Satoru took Suguru’s hand gently and pressed it flat against his own chest, right over his heart. The beat was frantic, pounding hard beneath Suguru’s palm.

 

Suguru’s breath hitched, a small, amused spark lighting up his honeyed eyes. “This fast…?”

 

Satoru’s lips curved into a lazy, dimpled smile, his voice raspy and fond. “Have you tried being around yourself?”

 

Suguru let out a soft, breathless laugh. His thumb brushed slowly over Satoru’s racing heart. “When I’m not around… do you miss me?”

 

Satoru squeezed his eyes shut and groaned. He pressed a lingering kiss just beneath Suguru’s cheekbone. “It’s unfair for you to even ask that.”

 

Suguru met his gaze again. “I miss you too... So much.”

 

Their mouths met once more. Slower and deeper, tongues sliding together in a lazy, drunken dance. Satoru’s voice came out muffled against Suguru’s lips, raw and honest.

 

“I think of you all the time when you aren’t next to me… miss your lips, your skin, your hair, your scent… just thinking about you.”

 

Suguru tilted his head back with a quiet moan, one hand gripping Satoru’s bicep while the other tangled in soft white hair. “Show me,” he whispered, voice trembling with need. “Please… I need to feel you.”

 

“I want to feel you too,” he murmured, voice low and raspy, “but you must be really tired now, don’t you think?”

 

Suguru jutted his lower lip out in a pout, eyes glassy. “Slow…?”

 

Satoru chuckled softly, leaning in to press a lazy kiss to his lips. “You just want me inside you, don’t you?”

 

“Satoru please,” Suguru whined sweetly, the sound all soft and needy. He tilted his head up, drunk fingers clumsily working on Satoru’s shirt buttons. “I want you… I’ll be good, I promi—”

 

Satoru cut him off with a hungry, desperate kiss, tongue lapping at his lips before sliding deep to brush against Suguru’s, mixing their alcohol and want.

 

“I can tell how much you do, baby,” Satoru purred, voice thick with arousal. “You ask so sweet… I could get you drunk all the time if this is how nice you get.” He buried his face in Suguru’s neck, inhaling deeply, then dragged his mouth down, sucking wet kisses from his throat to the dip of his chest where the shirt buttons were open.

 

“You’re mean too,” Suguru drawled, pouty and breathless, eyes fluttering. “You’re a bully in bed.”

 

“You stroke yourself to that.”Satoru grinned against his skin. “Fine, I'll be sweet for you.” Satoru dragged his finger slowly from the bridge of Suguru’s nose down to his bottom lip, pressing lightly against it. 

 

His voice dropped low and teasing. “So what am I supposed to do with you now?”

 

Suguru’s pleading eyes darkened. “I wanna suck you off.”

 

“Suck me off then, make it nice and slick to slide it in,” Satoru’s smirked lazily. He rolled off him in one smooth motion. Suguru immediately climbed on top, straddling his hips, fingers fumbling impatiently with Satoru’s zipper, a small pout tugging at his lips.

 

“You’re so eager,” Satoru murmured, voice rough with amusement and want. He threaded his fingers through Suguru’s sweaty hair, pushing damp strands back from his forehead. “You hungry?”

 

Satoru groaned as Suguru wasted no time taking him in his mouth without batting an eyelid. Suguru moaned deeply around his dick, making him hiss as his hand found Suguru's hair.

 

Suguru let go of his dick for a moment and just swirled his tongue around his tip, adding a bit of pressure on his slit. Satoru hissed but moaned at the same time.

 

“Stop teasing." He growled. Suguru took him in his mouth again, his tongue lying flatly on the underside of the dick and moved along with his head.

 

Then clothes came off slowly, with shy, tipsy smiles and trembling fingers. Buttons were a struggle. Every time one of them giggled, the other would follow, flushed and warm.

 

This felt different. They had never done it like this before. 

 

Suguru pressed soft, open-mouthed kisses across Satoru’s bare chest, right over his racing heart. Satoru sighed shakily, hands gently threading through Suguru’s hair. He tilted Suguru’s chin up and kissed him again, slow and sweet, before trailing his lips lower, pressing tender kisses along Suguru’s navel and then down to his inner thighs, savoring the way Suguru shivered under his mouth.

 

“Spread your legs,” Satoru commanded, voice low with lust. 

 

Suguru swallowed, throat bobbing visibly. With a shaky breath, he slid his thighs apart, exposing himself completely. His cock was rock hard, flushed dark and curved up tight against his stomach. Lubed hole prepped with Satoru's honed mouth and skillful fingers.

 

"Got you wet and open for me…” Satoru hissed hungry. “You might be the perfect view ever.” He gave his own lubed cock a few slow, lazy strokes, eyes raking over Suguru’s body like he wanted to devour him.

 

One hand reached down to grab Suguru’s chin firmly, tilting his face up. “Eyes open and on me,” he demanded, voice soft yet dark and commanding.

 

Satoru lined himself up and pushed the tip.

 

Brown eyes widened instantly, a sharp gasp escaping him as the thick head stretched him open. Tears prickled at the corners of Suguru's eyes from the overwhelming pleasure edged with the right amount of pain. He fought the instinct to squeeze them shut, forced to keep staring into Satoru’s intense blue eyes as he sank deeper and deeper.

 

When Satoru finally pushed all the way in, it was gentle and slow.

 

Suguru released a hitched, breathy moan, eyes fluttering shut as his head fell back against the pillow. His lips stayed parted, soft little sounds spilling out with every unhurried roll of Satoru’s hips. He looked angelic in the low lamplight flushed cheeks, long lashes casting shadows, chest rising and falling in deep, trembling breaths.

 

Satoru couldn’t look away.

 

He stared down at Suguru’s face the entire time, drinking in every flicker of pleasure, every tiny gasp, every time Suguru’s brows furrowed or his lips trembled, every flutter of those golden-brown eyes. One hand gently cupped Suguru’s cheek as he moved, slow and deep, savoring the tight heat and the way Suguru clenched around him.

 

“You’re so beautiful Suguru… prettiest little thing” he whispered, drunk and awed, voice thick with emotion.

 

“Pr-pretty…?” Suguru asked in a soft, breathless voice, almost shy. 

 

“Mhm, pretty baby,” Satoru whispered, voice unbearably fond as he gazed down at him. “Pretty… and mine.”

 

The tenderness in Satoru’s voice hit Suguru harder than the pleasure itself. His eyes stung with sudden tears, throat tightening as warmth flooded his chest.

 

“You like it like this, baby?” Satoru asked, his velvety voice Suguru’s ear as he changed the pace. “Being my baby—fuck—crying for me?”

 

Suguru let out a broken, teary whimper, nodding helplessly as another tear slipped from the corner of his eye.

 

“You are gonna be doing more of that,” Satoru smirked down at him, eyes dark with affection and lust. His voice was low, warm, and teasing as he rolled his hips in another slow, deep thrust.

 

Suguru let out a shaky, teary moan, lips trembling.

 

Satoru angled his hips and found that perfect spot inside him.

 

Suguru yelped, eyes flying open wide as sharp pleasure punched through him. “Yeah— there, there, Satoru— fuck, more—!”

 

“Fuck, Suguru,” Satoru moaned, voice wrecked as he snapped his hips forward again and again, nailing that sensitive spot over and over. “You’re so fucking hot and needy for me.”

 

“Only for you,” Suguru slurred, the words barely coherent before Satoru crashed their mouths together in a deep, messy kiss. He started moving a little faster, still trying to hold back, but his control was fraying.

 

"Faster—ungh! Fuc-fuck!" Suguru's plea rang out clear and urgent. He was panting, gasping, begging between broken moans. “Please, Satoru— don’t hold back…”

 

Satoru’s rhythm stuttered for a second. He growled low in his throat. “Suguru… are you sure—? Because fuck, I want—”

 

“Yes— please, please, Satoru— I want it so bad, want it to hurt,” Suguru cried desperately.

 

“Gonna hurt you so sweet. Gonna make you so mine,” Satoru hissed. 

 

He slammed back in with force, driving straight into Suguru’s prostate. At the same time, he reached up and laced their fingers together, pinning Suguru’s hand above his head against the pillow. Their bodies moved together, hungry and overwhelmed, overstimulated and desperate.

 

“Oh fuck— Sato— Satoru— Satoru— hh!” Suguru screamed as Satoru fucked him hard, sucking bruises into his neck while his grip on Suguru’s thigh turned bruising. 

 

Satoru smiled down at him, dark and satisfied, letting out a low chuckle. “Yeah, that’s right. Cry for me.”

 

He sped up, pounding into him with deep, punishing strokes, using Suguru’s body exactly how he wanted. Suguru’s cries only spurred him on.

 

Suguru mewled, eyes wet with fresh tears, and reached down for his own cock — only for Satoru to slap his cheek lightly and grab his face, squishing his cheek under a firm grip.

 

“Stop,” Satoru grunted sternly, still fucking him harder, eyes dark with possession. “You’re gonna come untouched and when I say you can.” His voice dropped into something wickedly soft. “Aren’t you my baby?”

 

Suguru cried out, gasping, nodding frantically. “Ahh— fuck— I-I am… Your baby— please, Satoru, tell me I’m your baby?”

 

Satoru’s gaze softened with dark hunger as he looked down at him. “Hmm, would you let me play with you a little more?”

 

“I-I wanna be good… please, I wanna be good, wanna play,” Suguru whimpered desperately, trying to lean up and kiss Satoru’s face, his lips brushing clumsily against his jaw and cheek.

 

Satoru groaned softly at the sweet plea, then pulled back just enough to look at him. “Good boy. Turn over for me.”

 

Suguru managed to roll over shakily, but before he could fully get into position, Satoru’s hands gripped his hips and shoved him down. Suguru’s chest and face pressed into the messy sheets, ass arched high in the air. He propped himself up on his elbows, looking back over his shoulder with a dazed, needy expression, hair matted to his forehead, face flushed deep red and wet with tears and sweat.

 

Satoru drank in the sight, his breath catching at how ruined and gorgeous Suguru looked like this.

 

Satoru pushed his cock back inside in one slick thrust. He spread Suguru’s ass, both hands bruising the soft skin, one travelled back to his hip.

 

“Fuck—!” Suguru cried out, voice muffled into the pillow as his fingers twisted in the sheets.

 

“Lay there and take me like a good fuckin’ boy now,” Satoru growled, voice low and commanding. He grabbed a handful of Suguru’s hair, shoving his lower back down, forcing Suguru into a deep arch. 

 

Suguru choked out a broken breath, chest heaving against the sheets. “Oh my god— you’re so big… so deep—”

 

Satoru grunted in satisfaction, angling his hips to hit that perfect spot with every thrust. “That’s right. Your little hole’s gonna be so wrecked once I’m done with you.”

 

Tears slipped from Suguru’s eyes again as pleasure bordered on too much. His cock was painfully hard, rubbing against the messy sheets with every rough and hard snap of Satoru’s hips. The friction hurt in the best way.

 

“Please— make me feel you for days,” Suguru begged, voice muffled into the bed. He arched his back deeply, pushing his ass out to meet every thrust. “Want it to hurt so good…”

 

Satoru’s moans sounded crazed, completely drunk on the tight heat wrapped around him. He started fucking him like that, deep, heavy, and relentless, hips snapping forward so hard that Suguru’s whole body jolted forward with every thrust. The wet, obscene slap of skin against skin filled the room, mixed with Suguru’s broken, desperate moans. Nothing would ever feel better than this.

 

“Look at you,” he growled, voice wrecked with lust. “Ass up, taking every inch. Always wanna be ready and open for me, don't you?”

 

Suguru could only whimper and moan, eyes rolling back, drool slipping from the corner of his mouth onto the pillow as Satoru railed him mercilessly from behind. Every brutal thrust pushed him deeper into the mattress.

 

“Ngh— Uh— Satoru—!” Suguru cried out brokenly, voice wobbling and cracking with every punishing thrust. “F-fuck— too much— hah— Satoru-uhh—!”

 

“Yeah baby, scream as much as you want.”

 

Suguru’s moans turned into desperate, high-pitched whimpers as the pleasure became almost unbearable. His cock rubbed brutally against the sheets with every jolt, leaking and throbbing.

 

“Fuck— Suguru—!” Satoru growled, eyes rolling back at the way. He fucked him erratically, chasing his own release. “Gonna fill you up— gonna make you mine— come with me—!”

 

“Gonna-gonna— Satoru— I’m c-coming—!” Suguru wailed, voice completely shattered as his orgasm crashed into him violently. His whole body seized up, hole clenching rhythmically around Satoru’s cock as he came hard, untouched, thick ropes of cum soaking the sheets beneath him. His cries turned into broken sobs of pleasure.

 

With a prolonged, guttural, broken moan, Satoru slammed in deep one last time and came hard. He kept grinding through it, hips stuttering as he emptied himself completely, panting and groaning against the back of Suguru’s neck.

 

Satoru collapsed on top of him with a heavy, satisfied groan, his full weight crushing Suguru into the mattress. Their bodies were slick with sweat, chests heaving in sync as they panted harshly against each other. Satoru’s hot breath fanned over the back of Suguru’s neck.

 

Finally, Satoru let out a tired chuckle and rolled them onto their sides, still buried inside Suguru’s warmth, refusing to pull out. He wrapped one arm possessively around Suguru’s waist, pulling him flush against his chest.

 

“Fucking dog,” Suguru muttered breathlessly, voice hoarse and exhausted. 

 

Satoru huffed a lazy laugh against his shoulder, pressing a sloppy kiss there. “Fucking freak.”

 

They were slowly sobering up, the haze of alcohol fading into bone deep tiredness. Neither of them had the energy to move anymore. Limbs heavy, bodies spent and tangled together, they drifted off almost instantly.

 

 

 

Suguru woke up with his whole body aching pleasantly, wrapped securely in Satoru’s embrace, their legs tangled together. Soft puffs of Satoru’s breath brushed against his neck with every exhale.

 

As he tried to stretch and slip out of bed, Satoru stirred and let out a sleepy, husky grumble. “Mmh… stop moving.”

 

Suguru’s lips curved into a small smile, but he still attempted to free himself. Satoru only groaned louder and pulled him back into the warmth of their bodies, arms tightening around his waist.

 

"Stay,” he mumbled, voice thick with sleep and a touch of a whine. “It’s not even morning yet.”

 

Suguru glanced at the digital clock on the dresser, its soft blue glow reading 5:15. “It’s practically morning,” he protested, amusement coloring his voice.

 

Satoru snuggled closer, nuzzling his nose into the crook of Suguru’s neck. "Nhm, doesn't count as morning. You’re not going anywhere.”

 

They eventually dragged themselves out of bed and showered together, the warm water washing away the sticky remnants of the night. Afterward, they stood side by side at the sink, brushing their teeth with Suguru using the spare toothbrush.

 

They had just finished a simple breakfast when Suguru reached up to put something back in the kitchen cupboard. He turned to find Satoru leaning against the counter, phone raised definitely taking his picture.

 

Satoru’s eyes sparkled, a soft, side-smile playing on his lips.

 

“How do I look?” Suguru asked, brushing his damp hair to one side, his voice still soft with the morning.

 

Satoru lowered the phone slightly, gaze lingering with quiet, possessive longing.

 

Suguru’s pulse stuttered. Satoru stepped closer, one hand sliding around his waist while the other boldly squeezed his bare ass, barely covered by Satoru's oversized shirt he was wearing.

 

“Look like mine… smell like mine,” Satoru breathed him in.

 

Suguru’s breath hitched. He searched Satoru’s face, half expecting leftover haze from last night’s drinks. “Satoru…”

 

Satoru hesitated, the words caught somewhere deep in his chest. He breathed in slowly, then spoke, voice low and certain.

 

“You don’t have to—”

 

“I’m not worried that you’re in love with me,” Suguru cut in slightly irritated, his voice hushed and frailing. “I’m worried that you’re not...”

 

Satoru’s heart stuttered. He had to fight the urge to crush Suguru in his arms right then. 

 

“Well, I was going to say you don’t have to say it back just because I love you,” Satoru admitted with a disbelieving little laugh, “but I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

 

“Wha—” A single tear slipped down Suguru's cheek, followed by a short, surprised laugh.

 

Satoru’s voice dropped, rough around the edges but warm. “I don’t want to dance around it anymore. I’m in love with you. Been for awhile.”

 

Suguru’s chest loosened with a quiet, disbelieving laugh.

 

They moved at the same time hands cradling each other’s faces as they surged forward into a deep, smiling kiss. When they pulled back slightly, the soft morning light from the kitchen window washed over Suguru, his golden-brown eyes shimmered in the soft morning light pouring through the kitchen window, molten and warm.

 

"I love you, Satoru. In love with you."

 

It hit Satoru cosmically. That he didn't need superpowers.

 

When all those superpowers were created, the universe must have decided they were too sacred to leave lying around, so it hid them in Suguru’s eyes instead.

 

How no one else could see how deeply he was drowning in them.

No one else could tell. Not even Suguru.

See? He was invisible.

 

Or how he witnessed both sunrise and sunset every time Suguru’s eyes caught a different light.

Well there you have it. TIme travel.

 

Or how the entire world fell silent and time itself forgot its purpose the moment he stood beside him. There, he could stop the time.

 

Or how Suguru’s laugh could lift the weight from his chest so effortlessly, as if gravity had simply surrendered. So he could control gravity in a way, right?

 

Satoru paused, a soft, helpless smile curving his lips.

 

There were surely more, and he wanted to show Suguru it all.

 

He saved it for the altar.

Notes:

Spoiler

 

Y'all i love when the story has this recurring phrase or line, one that will later either change into the opposite or remain unchanged with a new perspective. My favourite.

"Don't worry i am not in love with you.

"I am not worried that you are in love with me... I am worried that you are not."

Ksjsjdjejejdj i was giggling and kicking my feet writing that.