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"Hey!!” This is not the first time that Satoru has busted into Suguru’s dorm room unannounced. And it certainly won’t be the last time, either. “I’m bored as shit.”
A quiet sigh leaves Suguru’s lips. Shutting the book he knows he will not be able to delve into any further tonight, Suguru discards it on his desk and gives Satoru a measured look. “Do you already have something in mind, or are you dumping that responsibility on me?”
Satoru makes a point of locking Suguru’s door, which is beyond unnecessary. It’s not as if there would be anyone else that would bother him this late in the evening. But then again, the lascivious grin splitting Satoru’s face in two is all the confirmation Suguru needs that Satoru does have something up his sleeve, and it’s nowhere near decent.
“I was thinking,” Satoru croons, plopping himself down into Suguru’s personal bubble. The mattress dips with the added weight, their thighs touching. “We should fuck around.”
“How so?”
Posing that question is as good as agreeing with Satoru. Suguru knows this and he does so deliberately. There aren’t many things he doesn’t want to do with Satoru. But there’s more to it.
To Suguru, as satisfying as it is to steal his partner’s thunder, it occasionally is just as much fun to allow Satoru to indulge in theatrics. Building suspense, controlling the situation, determining the perfect moment when to deploy the reveal. All of it is so inexplicably endearing.
Satoru huffs out a small laugh and presses the curve of his jaw against Suguru’s shoulder. His body, as always, is so warm. Imperceptibly vibrating, an infinite value of electric, kinetic energy crackling from Satoru’s skin. An arm wraps around Suguru’s middle, bringing him somehow closer into Satoru’s delicious, private void. The buttons of his fingerprints rub teasingly into Suguru’s side. “I wanna jack off together.”
“Sure.”
Suguru reaches for Satoru’s fly but his hand gets smacked away. “No, no, listen. Let’s shake it up and watch each other do it.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to. Does that freak you out?”
“No,” Suguru muses, turning to face him, dipping closer until their noses almost touch. “Should it?”
“Only if you’re a bitch.”
There is a part of Suguru that wants to kiss him now. To mold his mouth to Satoru’s and taste him, the saccharine coffee he finished hours ago, the icy sting of breath mints he compulsively chews throughout the day, the soft, fleshy give of Satoru’s tongue slipping with Suguru’s own. Kissing him, in a sense, is to overpower him. At that moment, Suguru believes he truly ascends to Satoru’s level, and all it takes is to suck on his pouty, bottom lip. Satoru is putty when they make out, and Suguru relishes in the sensation of having Satoru melt from his competent, expert hands.
But they don’t kiss. Not yet.
Already, Satoru is wiggling out of his uniform pants and boxer briefs, exposing himself without so much as a demure blush, not even a glance away in shame. Always confident, always pushing his own agenda. But really, even so, it’s nothing Suguru hasn’t already seen, hasn’t already caressed his mouth against. Satoru spreads his folds apart with the v of his fingers and all Suguru can see is slick.
Satoru came here wanting him. Suguru already knows that logically, but actually experiencing the evidence has his throat going dry.
Fuck.
Suguru takes himself out. He’s not embarrassed by how much he’s already swelling, how quickly he’s filling out in his palm. Satoru smirks as Suguru pumps himself to full hardness, his expression screaming I did that to you. Me.
“I love your dick,” Satoru hums as he cups himself, the heel of his palm rubbing small, lazy circles against the softness between his thighs.
Whenever they’re in bed Satoru lets him know exactly what he’s thinking. About the gut-bunching pleasure he feels. About how much he’s losing his mind from whatever Suguru is doing to him. About his mood swings to indifference or annoyance from the sex, manhandling Suguru until Satoru’s getting exactly what he wants. There are very few things, if any, that Satoru would say out of obligation.
“I know,” Suguru says easily, watching Satoru’s hand work himself through the mounting haze of pleasure.
Satoru rolls his eyes, the motion barely visible behind his blackout lenses. But Suguru doesn’t miss it. “You’re supposed to say, ohhh Satoru. Not as much as I love your tight, perfect pussy. That’s the nice thing to say, yknow.”
“I’m not saying that,” Suguru deflects. He thumbs his head, rolling the foreskin around as he watches Satoru match his pace, tracing his wet finger around the flush of his slit. “We’re not in some pornographic video.”
“You should still say it, c’mon. It’s two sentences!”
“No,” Suguru denies again. “You should know how sexy I find you already.”
“Yeah, duh. I’m hot. But I like to hear it sometimes, too.”
“How many times do we have sex in a given week?”
Satoru wrinkles his nose in thought. “A lot.”
“There’s your answer,” Suguru smiles. “You’re such a good fuck.”
“Yeah,” Satoru purrs, his long, pale finger swirling into the wetness pooling at the entrance of his cunt. He coats his finger, teasing himself a bit before sinking easily inside. A quiet exhale slips through his teeth. “So are you.”
“Thanks.”
“You suck at dirty talk, Suguru.”
“You compensate well enough for the both of us.”
“That’s no fun!”
“Isn’t it?” Suguru grins, speeding up just the tiniest amount. “For a slut like you?”
It works as it always does. Satoru moans, his hips rocking into his glistening palm. “You’re holding out on me.”
“Of course. Who doesn’t like a challenge?”
“Bastard,” Satoru huffs, quickening his own strokes inside. Suguru drinks in the creamy expanse of Satoru’s legs, how the tendons twitch as his body flexes from his own selfish pleasure.
“Hm? Did you say something?”
“Shit, I wanna really strangle you. But sexy.” Satoru laughs as he adds a second finger. “Climb on top of you and sit down on that massive cock. Hold you down by the throat. Fuck myself on you.”
“You think you can do that?” Suguru exhales sharply, the first dribbles of precum wetting his fist.
“For sure,” Satoru smirks. Suguru almost moans when Satoru starts to run his free hand along his own chest, the tone of his arms, splaying up the expanse of his rib cage. Exploring himself. Touching himself as his fingers crook into him with mounting heat. The phantom sensations of Satoru’s body ache in the nerves of Suguru’s own hands. “I can beat your ass anyway.”
Suguru really starts to get into it. Heat trickles through his limbs, settling heavy in his stomach. The nuances of Satoru’s reactions, the velvet scrub of his groans against Suguru’s brain, the tickle of his breath just out of reach from his cheek, the crack of his hip as he shifts closer on the bed; they all burn inside Suguru with such violent intensity. “I’d like to see you try.”
“Yeah?”
“I’ve held you down before,” Suguru grunts.
“Yeah, but I let you.”
“You liked it,” Suguru counters, the instigation prickling up his spine. “Feeling helpless under me.”
“I wasn’t helpless—“
“Feeling helpless isn’t the same as being. You liked having all my weight on you. Fucking you stupid. Keeping you how I needed you to be, practically using you as a toy. That gets you hot.”
Clearly, Satoru wasn’t anticipating such heated, nasty words. His fingers falter for a moment before they start thrusting deeper, faster, wetter into him. Satoru swallows, the sound of it so thick and delicious in Suguru’s ears. “You were really rough.”
“You liked that, didn’t you?”
“Y-yeah.”
“Because you’re a slut,” Suguru responds, eyes glinting.
Satoru’s panting gets faster. “I am, yeah.”
Suguru isn’t able to keep goading him, unraveling him, because Satoru’s mouth suddenly glues to his. Don’t touch me, Satoru whispers before snaking his tongue into his mouth. Kissing messy and uncoordinated as their hands work faster between their own legs, pulling soft sounds out of both of them, but Satoru even more. He’s so hungry for it: for friction, for closeness, for the way their tongues drag, their kisses toeing the line between sweet and filthy.
“Right there,” Satoru groans when Suguru’s lips leave him to trail down his neck, his free hand resting on the nape of his neck. Breaking the rules. Touching him. Satoru's body lights up, so bright, so happy. “Yeah, there.”
Suguru sucks into the pulse of Satoru’s throat, making him gasp. The slick sounds of Satoru playing with his cunt spur Suguru on, dragging teeth along the points that have Satoru humping his hand in a fever pitch. His head tilts back into Suguru’s hold, his fingers scratching into the baby hairs on Satoru’s overheated, sweaty skin.
“Suguru, there.”
“I know, sweetheart.”
Satoru curses, his words thick on his tongue. “I feel good. Do you feel good?”
“Of course.”
“You gonna cum?”
“Getting there.”
“Good,” Satoru keens, pulling back to rub their noses together, his glasses bumping awkwardly into the apples of Suguru’s cheeks. “Me too.”
Suguru angles his head and they’re making out again. It’s needier this time, much more pointed and rough. Suguru squeezes the tip of his cock, concentrating all the attention there. Satoru must sense something, the heightening of his blood pressure, the needy throbbing of his cock, something, because he whines into Suguru’s mouth, tongue swiping along the ridges of his teeth, pressing his tongue flat into the roof of his mouth. Satoru’s free hand dips underneath the hem of Suguru’s shirt, tickling up the sensitive skin of the lowermost knobs of his spine.
Suguru could finish like this.
But he doesn’t because Satoru is never happy without trying harder.
“Wouldn’t it be so funny,” Satoru pulls away and licks his lips, his focus on Suguru’s fist beating up and down his length. “If you came on my cunt?” Satoru’s fingers roll his clit faster. “And you licked it all off?”
“You can just say please.”
Satoru’s already in the process of straddling Suguru, sidling close enough that the heat from his slit radiates onto Suguru’s cock. Suguru chews his bottom lip because it’d be so easy to shift closer and press inside him. So easy to fuck him, fuck him like he does so often. Throwing off Satoru’s glasses so he can see those pretty eyes stare at Suguru with hunger, mouth parted as he clenches perfectly on Suguru’s naked cock again and again.
That’s not tonight, though.
Satoru’s moans warp into sick encouragement when his sticky palm joins Suguru’s and forces the strokes to turn clumsy and fast. Grunting, Suguru tries to ease the pace down, but it’s futile. Satoru’s nails scratch up the shirt of Suguru’s back, up to his hair, undoing his bun, pulling the soft strands. Pulling his hand back down so he can lift his shirt, giving Suguru the perfect target as his hurried whispers ghost along Suguru’s parted lips.
“C’mon, baby. Don’t you fucking dare give me a pathetic load. I need you to give it to me so good. Everything you got, now. Cum on me, cum on me, cum on me—“
Suguru’s hand wavers when his body tightens, tightens more, right before he cums. From beneath Satoru’s sweaty, over-eager hand, he can’t aim himself before he starts to shoot over Satoru’s exposed belly, hot spurts that make Suguru’s toes curl and his forehead press into Satoru’s clammy one as a low, guttural moan rumbles in his throat. Blood rushes in his ears as he manages to shove Satoru off his grip and manages to release what he has left all over the swollen, sticky folds of Satoru’s flushed pussy.
Suguru doesn’t think he’s ever looked at something so fucking hot, his own cum viscous and gooey all over the sensitive parts of another person’s skin.
Satoru coos the entire time. He sounds so pleased as he tells Suguru how good he was. Suguru drowns the nonsense out as he comes down from his high, pulling his damp forehead away from Satoru’s.
“Yeah,” Satoru licks his own mouth. “Made such a mess. Look how much you gave me, baby.” Satoru brings his finger down and smears Suguru’s cum all over his clit. Suguru’s stomach flips, an aftershock making him moan. It’s so lewd, watching their fluids mix, eyes widening when Satoru brings his finger up and sucks it into his mouth. So pleased with himself, too. Satoru moans, gaze burning into Suguru’s. “You should try it.”
“Yeah,” Suguru clears his throat. Satoru’s smile only curves higher as he sucks his finger clean. “I should.”
Satoru yelps when he’s pushed back onto the bed, caught off guard and livid about it as Suguru climbs on top of him. It is such nonsense, all the spluttering and the protests, this was Satoru’s idea in the first place. But Suguru relishes in the widened state of those beautiful, oceanic eyes, the angered quirk of his kiss-bitten lips, the pink of his ears as Suguru sinks down, positioning Satoru’s thighs over his own shoulders so he can rub his nose along his messy slit.
“Eat it,” Satoru rasps, his aggression turning syrupy hot. “Eat my fucking cunt.”
As crude as he is, Suguru can’t deny him. Not when he tastes familiar salt and musky skin, neither with the soft sounds of him licking Satoru’s twitching folds clogging up his ears. Satoru throws his head back and mewls.
Suguru might admit one day that he loves this. Loves Satoru’s heels digging into his back when the pleasure gets too good, the messy scrambling of his nails through his hair to keep him in the right spots. The fragile gasps when Suguru sucks the big swell of his clit, a spark of heat inspiring the frantic way Satoru’s body reacts to and curls with the sensations. He might one day, but Satoru doesn’t want to hear it. He wants to cum, more than satisfied to remain trapped within his own fantasy and the sick, filthy chorus of his moans.
Instead, Suguru licks him clean. Tongue dragging through the fuzz on Satoru’s belly, into the dip of his navel, the sensitive insides of his thighs, the divot of his hip flexors, the curly mess of hair crowning his groin. Suguru gives his skin a sheen of spit, watching it dry as he returns to teasing the gooey mess of Satoru’s arousal. Suguru swallows it, letting it run down his cheeks and jaw, watching Satoru watch him all the while and start to tremble.
Tremble and wiggle around, making it difficult as he pulls Suguru’s hair harder. Suguru feels the contractions around his tongue, tasting how close he is. Satoru’s panting, mouth open, eyes rabid as he drinks in the rapturous sight of Suguru tugging on his outer lips between his smile. Everything about it is so perfect.
“All over your face,” Satoru pants, craning his face in a way that must strain his neck. “I’m gonna mess you up.”
“It’s only fair,” Suguru says, tongue flicking Satoru’s red clit. “Do it.”
Satoru starts to laugh then, something wet and sweet slurring in his throat before he grinds into Suguru’s face. Rutting himself on his tongue, eyes as brilliant and glassy as clear, calm ocean water. His hips move, like waves, gentle currents in low tide, and then Suguru feels him freeze.
Satoru wails in pure delight, not caring if any of their classmates hear as he cums all rough and selfish on his partner’s face. Suguru can taste how much he needed this orgasm with the desperate way he keeps rubbing himself into Suguru’s face. Suguru almost laughs, but it would be much more satisfying to prolong this. To seal his mouth against the spasming hole of Satoru’s cunt and suck. Satoru throws his head back and whines, begging yes yes yes as Suguru works every ache and shake out of Satoru’s livewire frame.
He doesn’t stop when Satoru finally settles, pleased murmuring as delicate as seafoam fluttering from his lips. His face is so flushed and so handsome, glasses askew as he watches with an oversensitive pout as Suguru keeps eating him out.
“Fuck,” Satoru grunts, wiping sweat off his upper lip. “Let off.”
“No,” Suguru says, blowing against the filthy mess between Satoru’s legs. “You’re a big boy. You got another one in you.”
“I—“ Satoru starts, but cuts himself off. Suguru’s body sparks suddenly with how unsure Satoru regards him. It’s like Suguru is drunk, he feels so good from making Satoru appear so out of control.
“Look,” Suguru pulls his mouth off and immediately replaces the attention with two fingers moving inside Satoru’s over-sensitive pussy. “You’re clamping down on me.”
“Yeah, because—fuck!” Satoru falls back onto the bed, his hand coming up to brush through his hair. Oh, how interesting. “You’ve never—shit, why’re you so fucking horny?”
Suguru keeps drumming along his good spots, watching Satoru’s mouth open and close like an asphyxiating fish. “If you tell me to stop,” Suguru quirks his fingers up and leans down to smooth his tongue over Satoru’s abused clit. “I’ll stop.”
Satoru almost sobs, balling the sheets in his grip. Suguru doesn’t believe for a second he’s never cum more than once in a sitting, but with the way he’s groveling, he might have just struck gold.
“Fine,” Satoru swallows. “Again.”
“Good boy,” Suguru praises as his wrist starts to work faster, pressing deeper inside his pliant guts. Satoru breath hitches, hips squirming as he flutters needy and tight around Suguru’s broad fingers.
Quickly, Satoru’s moans go from uncomfortable to slightly less so, surprised almost in the way his sensitive muscles respond to such immediate pleasure. He even starts to rock into it, Satoru weighing his hand down on his belly, compacting himself into something even more snug.
“Such a shame you made me finish so soon,” Suguru baits him. “You’d feel so good around me.”
“Yeah,” Satoru nods, squeezing around his fingers. “Oops.”
“You’re so selfish, sweetheart,” Suguru leans down, kissing his thigh. “I could’ve fucked you like this.”
Satoru tries to stifle a whine but to no such luck. “Fuck.”
“Would that make you feel good?”
“Suguru—”
“I asked you a question.”
It’s almost funny how fast it happens. Satoru’s thighs start shaking with his approaching orgasm, his own nails digging into his stomach as he hyperventilates, every nerve of his alight. Satoru mumbles lewd things, body arching, arching back he clamps down hard around Suguru’s fingers.
But Suguru pulls out. Satoru almost screams, bolting upright and ready to cause violence, a litany of why the fuck would you stop?! but Suguru doesn’t give him the chance.
He flips Satoru onto his stomach and hikes up his ass, high enough so Suguru can bring his mouth there to start sucking him, slipping three fingers back inside and fucking his body. Licking his folds and his perineum, savoring how overwhelmed Satoru suddenly is. So full and muted with stalling, choked breath as he cums for the second time.
On instinct, Satoru grinds back into his face, his skin on fire as he twitches through a much more intense release, knees, and elbows pressing into his mattress, desperate to ground himself. Suguru sucks his cum into his mouth, wishing he could hold that fragile rabbit pulse between his teeth. The very pulse he can feel in Satoru’s guts, shuddering through something so new. Suguru licks into him deep, free arm wrapping around Satoru’s hips to keep him from falling as he finishes him off, kissing him sweetly between his sticky, sated legs.
When his orgasm fades, Satoru really does push him off. He kicks Suguru away with his heel, his wobbly arms determined to pull himself up into a proper sitting position, hiding his sensitive bits from any more stimulation. Suguru expects this, feeling positively delighted as Satoru sinks into himself, his chin heavy in his palms as he stares blankly downward at himself, not uttering a single word.
It’s quiet for a beat. For a few, really. Suguru listens to the heave of Satoru’s breath, waiting patiently for whatever it is that Satoru wants to say, good, bad or neutral. Whatever it is, Suguru wants it.
He wants everything from him.
“You better do that to me every time,” Satoru eventually looks up at him, the intensity almost enough to wipe the smirk off Suguru’s messy face. “I mean it.”
“Of course,” Suguru says, composing himself. He reaches for a handful of tissues from his desk to start tidying them up. He urges Satoru to spread his legs, which he does with little coaxing. “That’s what I’m here for.”
“Yeah,” Satoru grins, wincing only slightly when the tissue gently touches his skin. “You’re mine.”
Suguru can’t help but lean in and kiss him, despite Satoru’s laughing as he tilts his head away, calling him a pervert, a freak, squirming away, but not away enough to really prevent their mouths from meeting once again.