Chapter Text
The streets grow emptier the further they stray away from Omoide Yokocho, moving instead through dark alleyways full of furtive glances and stolen kisses until they reach the private garage in which Satoru has parked. It belongs to some posh hotel Suguru could probably never afford to spend the night at - hell, he probably wouldn’t be able to even pay the parking fee, considering the cars parked there and the classily dressed valet at the door.
But of course it makes sense for Satoru to choose such a pretentious place to park when he clicks the electronic key in his hand and the lights of his ride proudly twinkle in response, making itself be noted among the mass of expensive vehicles around - Suguru actually needs to stop and just stare to fully process the masterpiece in front of him.
It’s a Ferrari, of course - one of those last models that look straight up sculpted by Michelangelo himself. The bodywork is like liquid silver shaped to take the form of swift waves, so aerodynamic Suguru can almost feel the car cutting through the wind like a bird, racing through Tokyo at the speed of sound. The windows are tinted in a deep black, so the interior can’t be seen as Suguru rounds the car, almost drooling at the sharp angles outlining the doors and flowing to the back, making the car look like the most precise brushstroke of a painter - slightly bluish paint shining like the Milky Way splattered across the midnight sky.
And like the stars inside Satoru’s eyes.
But that’s not the only thing the car has in common with its driver, Suguru notices, as he finally looks at the stunning piece of machinery from behind, smiling to himself at the sight.
“Flashy ass.” He notes, surveying the straight lines running along the aileron over the non-existent trunk. Suguru makes sure to meet Satoru’s eyes across the car’s length when he adds: “Like the owner.”
Snorting at his words, the other man moves towards the driver’s side, opening the door with movements as elegant as the vehicle itself is - Suguru is glad to check the doors aren’t those awful butterfly-type, but normal ones instead (or at least as normal as doors adhered to a car like that can be). Once he’s seated inside, Satoru honks, startling Suguru as he then goes on to half-scream into the empty parking lot:
“Are you going to fuck my car or me? Because I’m starting to get jealous.”
It reverberates rather raucously across the place, even making a car alarm go off as if outraged. And Suguru hates that he’s attracted to this man - even worse, he’s as much as obsessed with him, dying to actually shut him up despite being the most annoying and embarrassing bastard he has ever met. He also hates that that’s also part of his charm, and that he wouldn’t trade his personality for the world.
Fuck, he’s truly whipped.
Carefully opening the door to the passengers’ seat and getting into the car too, Suguru sighs, trying not to act too bedazzled by the lavish interior - all black leather and silver accents, illuminated by delicate lines of azure led lights running across the ceiling and dashboard. He gives Satoru a smirk once he’s settled, reaching for his thigh and enjoying the way his hand circles it almost entirely, like a garter made of inked flesh.
“So desperate for my cock already, doll?” Suguru teases, voice taking into that deep tone he knows drives Satoru mad.
He can feel Satoru squirm on his seat, reaching for his seatbelt to avoid his gaze as he steadies his breath – but when he holds onto the steering wheel he seems lost in thought and almost jittery. Suguru doubts he’s feeling nervous about this whole thing after being the one to almost beg to resume their date and leave to go have sex, so he tilts his head in confusion, waiting for Satoru’s answer.
“I’m not.” He lies at last, igniting the motor as Suguru retracts his hand to let him drive. The second he does so, Satoru turns to face him, eyebrows pulled together in an affronted scowl. “Who said you could get your hands off me?”
Oh, there he is, bratty Satoru in all his demanding glory.
Suguru clinks his tongue piercing against his teeth as a grin stretches across his face, his hand quickly returning to its rightful place on Satoru’s thigh, striding further up and inwards this time. The man still huffs indignantly, taking off his face mask to Suguru’s delight - his lips are still red from the tint of the sweets from earlier, and they look so kissable Suguru has to look away to refrain himself from distracting Satoru as he drives them out of the garage.
Unlike riding with Shōko, and to Suguru’s surprise, Satoru is a very nonviolent driver - respecting all traffic lights and speed limits, and even using his turn signals at crossroads and roundabouts. They share a comfortable silence as Satoru drives away from the city center, only turning on his GPS and clicking on Suguru’s address when they’re out of the main roads.
Suguru cocks a brow, surprised by his home-place being saved in Satoru’s car - he assumed someone dropped him back after making up an excuse or saying he needed to visit a friend. But then again, does Satoru has any of those? Besides Utahime, that is.
Or better said, does his job and lifestyle allow him to have more than one? Real friends, like Choso and Sukuna are to Suguru himself – does Satoru have anyone like that at all?
“Did you drive to my apartment that last time?” He isn’t sure why he asks, but a part of him needs to confirm Satoru really took the time to pick up his fancy car and drive himself to Suguru’s shitty area for some dick - no, not for some dick but for his dick. It makes him feel powerful, somehow.
Next to him, Satoru shrugs, taking a turn and stopping on a red light, seizing the chance to fully face Suguru again. Under the faded lights of Tokyo’ midnight hours, his eyes shine as bright as the endless starry skies out and afar on the countryside Suguru doesn’t visit anymore - they take him, if only briefly, back home.
But then he blinks and it’s gone, and his eyes still look like galaxies full of light and life, but they don’t remind him of his old village, lost somewhere along the mountains far from Tokyo, anymore - but rather of the eclectic nights of the capital, of stretching dawns over the artificial skyline and starless veils of dark blue velvet thrown over restless souls who still long for something that feels like the home they lost long ago.
Is it unfair, to ask for such a thing out of him?
“Yeah, I didn’t want Ijichi to snitch on me.” Satoru answers in a monotone voice - Suguru doesn’t even remember what he asked, he’s too distracted by Satoru’s warmth through his pants as he moves his hand over his crotch. “I parked behind your building, ran up the stairs…”
Satoru’s words get cut short by a content sigh once Suguru starts to rub circles with his thumb over his clothed length - he only makes a motion with his hand as if to convey the rest of actions taken that day, and Suguru looks at it enthralled.
He has always liked Satoru’s hands - liked how they look all over his inked skin, liked the feel of them tangled in his long black hair. They’re fairly big, with long, pianist-like fingers, and so pale Suguru is sure he could count Satoru’s veins one by one if he wanted to - trace them like little purplish roads from in between his knuckles and up to his heart, kiss the jugular where they widen on his neck and feel the warm, liquid life coursing within.
He’d love to map Satoru’s body someday - centimeter by centimeter, searching for one treasure at a time. It’d be nice, to worship him like that. But for now, he can settle for getting a better feel of his hardening dick as he pulls the zipper of his jeans down.
“All of that just to get fucked.” Suguru chuckles darkly, slipping his hand under the elastic of Satoru’s boxer briefs while gazing up to his lips, parting his own in barely contained need.
Humming, Satoru leans in, a cheerful smile ghosting over Suguru’s mouth as their lips brush, fleetingly, sending electric shocks up and down Suguru’s nerves - making him want to take him right there, eat him whole until they’re one.
With the hand still lost inside his jeans, Suguru gives Satoru’s cock a lazy stroke, from base to tip, pressing his black-coated nail into the slit to make Satoru shiver – and he does, but still keeps the cocky smile in place. Then, before their lips can fully meet and Suguru can make him his, Satoru mutters in a warm breath:
“It’s what we do, isn’t it?”
Suguru freezes in place - a weird rictus twisting his expression as his grip around Satoru loosens enough for the man to sulk just a bit at the missing heat. It takes him a moment to be able to school his expression again and keep jerking Satoru to full hardness slowly - quite a difficult task in a car, with no lube and a strange feeling puncturing through his heart now.
And it’s frustrating because, again, it shouldn’t hurt - it’s just the truth. But there’s something laced in between the words, something Suguru wants to reach out for and expose it to the light of Satoru’s eyes and to the darkness of his own - something deep within, poisoning them both.
Yet there’s the possibility of whatever is hidden under that treacherous truth to be something Suguru doesn’t want to know - doesn’t want to acknowledge. Whether for good or bad.
So he smirks against Satoru’s lips too, almost cruelly, like a heartless man - and taints their plushy, sweet taste with his own bitterness gently, only one time before pulling apart, hand still working him between his legs. Looking up to the green light shining upon them now, Suguru finally acquiesces:
“Yeah, it’s what we do.”
Satoru doesn’t try to have the last word this one time, instead fueling the car to speed down the street. His hands tremble slightly where they’re holding onto the steering wheel, and his thighs quiver and spasm when Suguru grips his shaft firmer, still keeping the tortuous pace up and down, trying to collect the sparse precum Satoru leaks to make the glide easier.
Satoru is squirming in place, breath ragged and sweat starting to make his bangs dampen, but Suguru knows he can’t cum just from this, and there’s still a long way back to his apartment. Especially now, with the streets getting busier as people get out of work or make their way back home after that last beer at some shady izakaya.
When they stop at a new red light Suguru puffs, impatience building up as he fonds Satoru’s balls, deft finger tracing up the sack, successfully making the man whimper pitifully. Idly, Suguru thinks about what he wants to do to him when they finally get home - undress him unhurriedly, perhaps; seize the moment to suck him off for a bit, taste him there for the first time.
He could ask Satoru to prepare himself for him - he’s sure he’d make a good show of it. Suguru can almost picture him on his knees and spread open in front of him, long fingers curling inside himself as he begs Suguru to give him his cock instead - desperate, beautiful and only his. Then, Suguru would just need to open the drawer under his coffee table, extend his hand as he caresses Satoru’s perfect ass with the other, reach for the… oh.
Oh, fuck - there’s something he needs to solve first for his fantasies to come true later.
“Stop there.” Suguru commands when the traffic light switches again and they’re free to go. Satoru gives him a side glance but obeys, parking next to a couple of motorbikes and in front of the pharmacy Suguru just pointed at. “I need to get some lube. Do we need anything else?”
He tries not to overthink about that unfortunate use of we there - he was only referring to the hypothetical we they become when they fuck, nothing else. Nothing deeper than that.
The man doesn’t seem to even notice as he only groans, mumbling unintelligibly when Suguru pulls his hand out of his underwear to wipe it on his jeans. Satoru’s hips rise from the seat slightly, chasing his touch before plopping back down heavily, frustrated - he almost jumps in place, breath hitching as his knuckles go white around the wheel at the motion. Suguru looks at him curiously, wondering what has gotten into him all of a sudden, but unbuckles his seatbelt and reaches for the door’s handle despite the lack of an actual answer.
It’s only when he’s half outside and about to close the door again when Satoru seems to come back to his senses, head turning to the side and gaze heavy when it settles on Suguru as he practically implores:
“Don’t take long, please.”
Warm, molten desire settles deep inside Suguru’s core, and he can only nod curtly, pushing the door closed and making quick way to the pharmacy. Getting the lube takes him a bit longer than expected, mostly because there’s a stupid amount of different types the pharmacist seems intent on introducing him to, so he walks out with a bottle of strawberry-flavored lube just because he thinks Satoru might actually like it - especially if he tastes it off his cock.
Bag in hand, Suguru walks back to the car and opens the door wide open - only to find Satoru rocking back and forth on his seat, a pained expression twisting his gorgeous features and nails digging into the sides of the seat with such force Suguru is almost sure they would’ve pierced through the cushion already if this were a humbler ride.
Something heavy lodges in Suguru’s throat upon seeing Satoru like that, unable to pinpoint what’s going on with the man as he slips back into the car and tugs the door closed.
“Are you okay?” He asks after clearing his throat to make his presence be noted. Satoru stops suddenly to look at him with his blue eyes wide open now and his pink mouth agape, slightly panting - and god, Suguru wants to fuck him so hard he won’t be able to walk in weeks. Still, he forces himself to choke out: “If you’ve changed your mind…”
Something about those words seem to bother Satoru a lot, as he scowls hard, muttering a soft huh? that only serves to confuse Suguru further. Because the truth is Satoru has been quite distracted all night, but he assumed it was just the novelty and excitement of visiting Omoide Yokocho for the first time after he confessed so. But he’s been fidgety ever since they got into the car, and there’s no way he has gotten so pent up just from a dry, lazy handjob under the wheel.
“I’m great. It’s just…” Satoru starts then stops, licks his lips and ogles Suguru up and down like he wants to eat him whole - he still looks slightly out of himself, but nothing Suguru hasn’t seen when the man gets so horny he can’t even think. It’s only when he’s done apparently committing Suguru’s exposed chest to memory that he starts peeling off his jacket as he demands: “Fuck me.”
The words don’t sink in immediately in Suguru’s mind - if fact, he gets so distracted by Satoru’s pale, muscled arms as they extend and come to rest to both sides of his head, he doesn’t even realize he has talked at all until the man has moved off his seat to place himself on Suguru’s lap instead.
It’s a bit uncomfortable, Satoru’s legs being definitely too long to crowd Suguru’s space like this in a car - but he still places his hands around Satoru’s waist, tattooed fingers gently caressing the exposed skin between his jeans and crop top. It’s so tiny Suguru’s fingers almost touch as they circle the width of it, and it makes him go feral with the need of marking him as his it’s almost scary - he actually needs to bite the inside of his cheek to be able to calm down and think back to what Satoru pleaded.
“Here?” It’s a half-amused huff, as he stares up at Satoru to see the man reach back with one hand to pull the seat away and slightly down to give his own legs room enough to fully straddle Suguru. They groan in unison when Satoru’s hard-on presses against his crotch, making his dick twitch in interest despite himself. “We’re parked in the middle of the street, Satoru.”
“I don’t care.” The man retorts as he starts pushing off Suguru’s leather jacket, sliding it down his strong arms with some help before throwing it haphazardly onto the back seats. Suguru can’t help but seize the proximity to kiss up his neck, pressing a peck to the beauty mark right on the dip between his clavicles before driving his mouth up the side, less restrained and hungrier by the minute. As if feeling his hesitation dilute, Satoru brushes his lips against the shell of his pierced ear and pushes him over the edge entirely, voice sultry when he says: “I want you now.”
With a defeated sigh, Suguru moves his hands down Satoru’s body with reverence, lips still searing over the delicate skin on his neck, reaching for that tender spot behind his ear that makes him tremble deliciously between his arms. Holding the underside of Satoru’s thighs with his wide hands to force Satoru down flush against him, Suguru then moves his hands back to his ass, smacking one cheek hard over his jeans to coerce him to start moving - and Satoru does, always so obedient, grinding down and forward deliberately, his own now-freed erection catching between their bodies.
Grinning against his neck, Suguru allows him to take control for now, pressing one last kiss to the juncture of his jaw before pulling back to look him in the eye – he looks absolutely breathtaking from this angle, snowy hair falling over his blue eyes, pupils so dilated his irises look almost like a midnight sky right now. Suguru could stare at him forever and still find those eyes as magnetic and magnificent as the first time.
“I’m starting to believe you’ve got some sort of exhibition kink.” He teases, pushing his mushy thoughts aside and nipping at Satoru’s chin and jawline, kissing his cheek sweetly right afterwards - Satoru sighs, too busy holding himself upright as he rolls his hips faster, looking for that friction Suguru isn’t denying him right now, instead pulling him closer to his chest, groaning when the silk of his shirt grazes his nipples just right under Satoru’s weight. “I could fuck you out there… Show everyone on the street how your pretty ass takes me…”
The moan that rips through Satoru’s chest makes Suguru’s cock start to fill nicely, straining inside his jeans as the man keeps fucking himself over it, even if clothed. Hips faltering slightly, Satoru searches for Suguru’s lips blindly, one of his hands grabbing a handful of the loose hair at his nape as he forces him into a bruising kiss.
It’s more teeth and tongue that anything else as Suguru grips Satoru’s asscheeks hard enough to hurt. They lick into each other’s mouth filthily, Satoru gasping, Suguru growling low - both so lost already, sanity abandoned in favor of sating that deep, primal need of becoming one after so long.
As the kiss grows sloppier, Suguru starts to grind up too, little rocking motions of the big bulge inside his pants over the clothed crack of Satoru’s ass that serve to draw whimpers out of him - and Suguru drinks them straight out of his lips, tasting Satoru’s sweet desperation.
Their tongues meet again in an open-mouthed kiss so lewd it leaves Satoru trembling - his orgasm approaching way too soon for Suguru’s taste. He tries spanking his ass again to bring him back down, but it only serves to push him closer to the edge - Satoru moaning like a whore when his cock catches just right between their abs.
When the wetness dripping off Satoru’s cockhead dirties Suguru’s exposed chest after a particularly enthusiastic thrust, Suguru has to actually take a hand off Satoru’s perfectly round and plush ass to grip him hard by the base, forcing his orgasm to retract. Satoru hisses in pain, dropping his forehead to Suguru’s shoulder with a soft cry - and Suguru smirks, kissing his temple with something akin to love.
“Suguru~” The older man bemoans musically to Suguru’s ear, between wet kisses over the ink on his neck - Suguru shivers, shushing him.
“Are you really as pent up as the other day? Or did you fuck someone else in Paris?” Suguru mocks him, languidly jerking Satoru again, keeping his grip rough to make sure it’s not enough to drive him towards his climax again - he needs him to start lasting longer than usual, and if he has to train it for that, then he’ll be more than glad to do it.
Over him, Satoru huffs a laugh, sounding slightly unhinged from where he’s still hiding on the crook of Suguru’s neck, breath burning over his skin - Suguru’s short hairs on his nape come to stand, as his veins fill with a different kind of fire unexpectedly, one born from rage rather than lust.
Does Satoru think this is a joke? Or did he really fuck someone else and is now laughing at Suguru’s naivety?
Inhaling deeply, Satoru licks a trail up Suguru’s neck with the tip of his tongue, until he’s biting delicately at the stretched skin of his lobe - he uses his finger to push the gauge off and stick his tongue in instead, making Suguru’s breath get caught on his lungs.
With a mastery Suguru didn’t expect at all, Satoru moves his tongue in and out the hole as if fucking it, managing to rile Suguru up even further, successfully forcing him to speed up the hand on his dick as Satoru surely needs. When he finally answers to Suguru’s question, he’s a panting mess again, hips pistoning forward so he can fuck onto Suguru’s hand, matching his pace:
“What if I did? Would it make you jealous?” He bites back, holding himself upright with his arms around Suguru’s neck, gripping the seat underneath them for better leverage. “Would you choke me again? Would you spank me?”
Suguru groans, mind racing over all of those scenarios - he would love to choke Satoru right now, make him swallow down his words, spank his ass so hard he’d repent ever having asked for it. He’d love to tie him, slap him, bruise that beautiful skin of his only to massage and soothe it right after - finger his ass gently with the excuse of healing the carnage left behind by his own cock after fucking orgasm after orgasm out of him.
What he wouldn’t love is having to do so as a real punishment, motivated by the need of erasing someone else’s trace off Satoru’s perfect skin.
Just the thought of it it’s enough to make his blood boil with fury, the thought of Satoru allowing someone else to see him like this, to have him like this - streaming so afar from his perfect self, so out of his usual trained behavior, so beautiful, so human. Suguru can’t stand the thought of someone else being witness of such a marvel - the rendition of a god under mortal flesh.
He wants to be the only one to give Satoru this - all of it. And he needs him to know no one else is going to give it to him as good and as deep as he does.
So Suguru laughs breathlessly too, almost sardonically as he twists his wrist in that sharp angle that never fails to make Satoru wail - abruptly grabbing him by the neck to force their gaze to meet. His index and thumb press hard enough into the tender skin to cut the flow of oxygen, and Satoru’s eyes water as he smiles, proud of himself - proud of getting what he wants one more time.
He always knows what buttons to push - and Suguru sees right through him at last, rage receding like a gentle tide as he also smiles, saccharine sweet, before spanking his ass hard enough to bruise. Satoru half-moans, half-cries, a sob catching on his throat as Suguru runs his thumb over the underside of his shaft, easing the pain with pleasure and pretending he never heard Satoru’s questions to begin with - that’s a game they aren’t playing tonight.
“It’s too early to come yet, doll. Go undo my pants first.” He coos as if nothing just happened, hand leaving Satoru’s dick to gently card through his disheveled hair when he stops hiding on his neck and instead sits back just enough to run his hands down his chest.
If Suguru thought Satoru liked his pecs back when he was touching them in the alleyway, he was wrong - or rather, he came way too short to actually capture Satoru’s true feelings for his chest.
The man looks absolutely mesmerized as he slides his hands beneath the silk and pushes it aside and off the way, forcing the rest of the buttons open to fully expose Suguru’s torso. His mouth waters so bad Suguru has to thumb at the drool running down the corner of his lips as he seems not to know where to touch first, like a kid visiting a toy store.
He finally settles for his abs and moves up, mindlessly tracing one of Suguru’s scars like a feint path to his tits, where his final destination seems to lie. Suguru melts onto the seat behind, both hands on Satoru’s ass again as the man gently tweaks a nipple between his index finger and thumb, sending goosebumps running up and down his body.
“Oh!” Satoru grins like he just discovered his new favorite toy - his eyes light up with mischief as he plays with the hardened bud between his fingers, planting a wet kiss to Suguru’s lips before asking against them: “Can I play with your tits for a bit first?”
It’s not a fair question, considering how he brushes his thumb over Suguru’s pierced nipple again before circling the delicate skin teasingly, pretending he’s actually waiting for his permission - as if Satoru Gojō wasn’t used to simply take whatever he wants.
As if he didn’t do exactly that with Suguru whole the night they met.
Still, Suguru plays along and nods, bangs messily falling over his half-lidded eyes when he moves just enough to allow his shirt to fall off his shoulders, silk catching on his elbows to give Satoru the sight and feast of his life.
Satoru actually takes his hands off Suguru’s chest for a moment to bring his palms together in a silent prayer, pressing them to his forehead as he mutters a quick thank you to the gods above, making Suguru chuckle. Then, he dives forward, burying his face between Suguru’s round, toned pecs to lick a strip up his cleavage - his hands knead the plushy meat intently, fingers digging into the flesh as if a handful wasn’t enough.
Using the hold he has on them, Satoru presses Suguru’s tits together to create the impression of a deeper crease between them, where his face still rests, and he shakes his head madly to nuzzle them both, giggling like a kid. For some twisted reason, all the boob play makes Suguru’s blood rush south, his already painfully hard cock leaking unrestrained as Satoru finally takes a nipple into his mouth and sucks hard, successfully ripping a guttural moan out of him.
“Fuck, doll.” He can’t help but groan when Satoru pinches one nipple at the same time he toys with the bud on the other using only his tongue - little quick movements making the piercing practically vibrate in place, sending a rush of pleasure coursing through Suguru’s veins. He needs to stop him before he ends up coming in his pants just from getting boobs played with - that would be embarrassing. “Stop, I want to fuck you.”
Mouth still around a swollen nipple, Satoru looks up and whines - cheeks slightly puffed out and eyes shining with joy. He looks just as content as when he’s eating sweets, absurdly cute even if his tongue is still abusing the sensitive pierced bud, as if trying to suck something out of it. Fuck, Suguru would actually let him try to suck his tits dry, but they don’t have the time for that now.
Groaning, Suguru pushes Satoru’s bangs off his forehead to place a kiss there, then pushes him off his pecs, hissing when the man bites around the nipple so hard it leaves little indents like a bloody halo around it. He’ll have to make sure to remind him their no-mark policy later, perhaps write it on his porcelain skin too.
Once he’s off Suguru’s chest, Satoru sighs and resumes carrying through Suguru’s almost-forgotten command from earlier, reaching for his jeans to make quick work of the belt and buttons there - Suguru lifts his hips just enough for both his pants and underwear to be pushed down mid-thigh and off the way.
His cock sits between them then, heavy and thick, flushed red and still leaking - definitely calling for some attention. The piercings glisten, catching on the blue hue of the led accents of the car, and Satoru looks at the shaft before him like he wants to both sit on it and have it stuck down his throat - Suguru can definitely relate to that, as he also both wants to fuck his ass and mouth until he’s crying and whimpering like the slut he is.
For now, he settles for bringing Satoru onto his lap again, using the hand on his ass to push him forward as he holds him by the chin and kisses him deeply. It starts as an almost-chaste brush of lips, warm breath ghosting over the other’s mouth before their lips slot together like missing pieces of a puzzle. Suguru takes control of the kiss fully, forcing Satoru’s lips open to suck at his tongue, pressing down so far into his mouth he’s almost certain he won’t be able to taste anything other than him for weeks to come – and Satoru follows his lead pliantly, grinding down again, their cocks brushing with every thrust forward of his hips.
Hands over Satoru’s ass again, Suguru slides both of them inside the garment and underwear beneath to cup Satoru’s heated flesh, roughly grabbing a handful of each cheek with a need he can’t name but burns him from the inside out - it always feels so fucking right, but it’s never enough.
Parting Satoru’s cheeks unashamedly, he makes sure to massage the tender flesh thoroughly as his fingers curl inwards to reach for his hole, aching to see if it’s already twitching for him, longing for his cock - but just then something cold and hard hits his first knuckle and Suguru stills in place, breath catching on his lungs.
“No fucking way.” His groan reverberates though the car, as he barely has half the mind to stick his tongue out to lick over Satoru’s when he reaches for him.
Satoru is still too lost in the moment, kissing Suguru’s lips with want, hands cupping his face as Suguru blindly presses his finger to the cold, hard object again, pushing it lightly to see if it gives in, to check if it’s truly what his currently overjoyed mind is telling him it is. Because his mind is telling him -screaming at this point- that Satoru is wearing a plug up his ass, and he cannot… he can’t even begin to process that idea.
Because if Satoru is indeed wearing a butt plug, he’ll have no choice but to ruin that perfect ass of him - fuck him so deep and hard no toy will ever fit again, won’t feel like it’s enough after having him rearrange his guts.
And indeed, at Suguru’s motion, Satoru arches his back and moans aloud - and Suguru breaks, short-circuits completely, mind going blank, body absolutely numb. He breaks the kiss to throw his head back against the seat’s headrest, and closes his eyes as he exhales through his nose very slowly - mind still screaming, body completely burning with want.
Cold hands drop to his chest then and Suguru doesn’t need to see to know Satoru is pouting in feigned innocence when he asks:
“What’s wrong?”
For a moment, Suguru keeps his eyes shut as his hands still grip Satoru’s already-full ass with a ferocity he can’t, nor does he want to control. Because this man -this walking wet dream of a man, made of pure starlight and fine porcelain, this ethereal creature who somehow ended between his arms in a rainy, late august midnight- this man has been wearing a butt plug all night.
Just for him.
He has driven all the way to Omoide Yokocho, walked through the crowded streets, let Suguru kiss him, touch him, grope him in a dark alleyway - all of that while keeping this little surprise for him. This gift in the form of a perfectly tight asshole already loosened enough for him to simply slip in.
If Suguru thought Satoru was a fucking freak for fingering himself open and asking for him to fill his ass up right after they met, this is a whole new level - this is something out of Suguru’s wildest dreams. Those in which Satoru is only his, and there’s no limits, no policies or time running out - and Suguru can worship him as much as his soul craves to.
“You’re going to kill me one day, doll.” Suguru growls, index finger grazing the base of the sex toy to see Satoru’s whole body quiver again over him - and what a magnificent sight, that is. He needs to bite down his lip as he grips Satoru’s hips instead to steady himself, yet he can’t help but end up requesting, voice laden with desire: “Please let me fuck you with it, please, please.”
Satoru’s first reaction is to laugh, drunk in the power that little thing inserted inside his ass is granting him over Suguru right now. He’s still hard, dick pressing against Suguru’s lower stomach, painting his abs with warm precum - but he seems less malleable than earlier. He’s ready to take some revenge on Suguru and act like a spoiled brat again.
Waiting for Satoru’s next act, Suguru starts kissing up his neck again, pierced tongue licking a wet trail until he’s biting at the underside of his jaw. He wants to mark him badly, but he settles for tenderly sucking on the pale skin under his ear, waiting for a permission that still doesn’t come. Over him, Satoru starts to push his pants down as much as he can considering he’s still sitting on Suguru’s lap and that they’re literally inside a car - but in a surprising display of flexibility, he manages to leave both his jeans and boxer briefs hanging from his right ankle, having toed off his shoes at some moment too, apparently.
Once he’s naked from the waist down, he pats Suguru’s leg twice in a silent order, and Suguru gulps, parting his toned thighs slightly, feeling his cock weep as Satoru repositions himself over him, wearing just that delicate silvery crop top over unmarred moonlight skin – his dick standing proudly between milky legs and gaze so ravenous it makes the coil in Suguru’s belly almost snap.
He hovers just above Suguru’s pierced cock for a moment, then sits heavily on his lap again, careful not to crush his erection with his weight, but still managing to catch it between his smooth cheeks - the mix of body heat exuding from Satoru’s ass and the cold, hard press of the base of the butt plug against his sensitive skin make Suguru moan low, close to ask for permission again when Satoru finally smirks and taunts:
“You gonna beg?”
Unfortunately for Satoru, Suguru’s patience snaps just then.
Yanking Satoru forward until he’s crashing over him, Suguru smacks his tender ass twice, so quick and rough Satoru can only gasp in surprise before Suguru is grabbing the plug with deft fingers, twirling it and pushing it deeper without any warning - making Satoru choke pathetically around a moan as his body spasms.
Suguru smirks up at him before planting an open-mouthed kiss to the curve of his neck, getting a better hold over the base of the toy to start fucking Satoru with it steadily, not missing the way Satoru’s walls suck the whole thing in greedily as if made to get filled - to get fucked stupid every day of his life. Oh, how Suguru would love to do just that, get Satoru’s pretty ass full of him night and day, teach him to take only his cock - get him so used to it he feels empty every time he’s not getting fucked.
“Don’t get cocky, doll, you know you want this even more than I do.” Suguru whispers to Satoru’s ear, biting his lobe playfully as he keeps pushing the toy in and out of him, trying to guess just how big it is and how deep it reaches by Satoru’s reactions alone - his eyes are still dry when he looks down at him, so he guesses not as much as he is and does. “Did you plug yourself to be ready for me? Or did you miss my cock so bad you kept this inside you to pretend it was me?”
Too stubborn to give up already, Satoru whimpers and thrusts back onto Suguru’s hand, fucking himself onto the toy - hugging Suguru closer so their chests press flush against the other and his neglected dick gets trapped between their abs again. Suguru knows he isn’t going to last much if they keep it like this, butt plug going in and out and erection rubbing against his abs - it’s objectively not that much, but he’s been wearing that thing inside himself all night, so he must be horny out of his mind.
And Suguru aches to bring him to completion, to grant him that awaited release he’s literally aching for - but they’re in a car, parked in the middle of a busy street, next to the bustling traffic and in front of some residential buildings, to top it all. They can’t go for a second round here if one of them comes - it’s simply too risky.
So, without waiting for an answer and despite his wish to see if Satoru can come just from getting fucked with a butt plug and some light friction over his cock, Suguru pulls the toy out of him entirely, holding Satoru steadily with an arm across his back as he hooks his chin over his shoulder to check the thing - to check how much of a freak Satoru really is.
The reason for his madness is considerably thick, but not too long, with a delicate base and a smooth, oval shaped body slightly pointed towards the tip - and what’s best: it’s entirely made of glass and perpetually cold. Because of course Satoru Gojō would spread himself open using something that looks like it was made of raindrops and stardust, and that could literally rip and torn his insides in the blink of an eye if not handled with the care a creature as ethereal as him deserves.
It’s a fucking miracle he chooses to have Suguru’s cock inside him after wearing things like this - and that’s what Suguru loves most, that it’s his choice and that he has plenty of options -probably all of the world’s- yet he still chooses to come back to him. How can Suguru not feel like the world’s luckiest man being granted an honor like being the one to break Satoru Gojō apart?
Swallowing hard and taking a deep breath right after, Suguru keeps staring at the transparent thing, dripping lube, mind racing at the image of Satoru getting it inside his ass, spread open over his bed, wishing it were Suguru’s cock instead - it’s driving him crazy, and Satoru has to actually be the one to bring him back to his senses.
“Suguru~” Satoru’s sweet voice whines - and finally, Suguru carefully drops the breakable toy on the driver’s seat, reaching for the lube instead. He forgoes his fingers and directly coats his swollen cock instead, hissing when the cold substance touches his sensitive skin. “Suguru… Let me…”
Still ignoring Satoru’s blabbering against his neck, Suguru starts pumping himself slowly, holding the older man close to his body as he carefully guides his shaft towards his entrance, pressing the head to his loosened rim - Satoru whines again as Suguru makes a strangled noise too, trying not to cum on the spot as the butt plug image still dances behind his eyelids.
He tries to push Satoru down, moving his hand to his hip for better leverage as he keeps grabbing his own cock with the other one - but Satoru places a hand on his chest, right over the intersection of his scars, and pushes himself upright, asshole still kissing the tip of Suguru’s dick without actually letting it in into its warmth.
The look on his face carries a lucidity Suguru hasn’t seen on him ever since they got into the car, but his pupils are still so blown Suguru almost fears he won’t ever be able to see the sky of his irises open wide again, as it’s nothing more than a feint ring around the black holes staring right into Suguru’s soul. He looks determined to do something Suguru doesn’t know about yet, but it’s surely dying to find out.
“Suguru.” It sounds almost ominous over their ragged breaths and in the little void they’ve created for themselves inside the car - Suguru grips both his own cock and Satoru’s hip harder, as the man over him holds onto his naked, tattooed shoulders like his life depends on it. “Lemme make you feel good… Lemme...”
He trails off when Suguru rubs his cock to his entrance, smearing both the lube and the precum over it, making Satoru dig his nails into his skin - it sends a jolt of pleasure down Suguru’s spine, coiling down as he carefully positions Satoru over his shaft.
“You want to ride me? Is that it?” Suguru coos, grinning against Satoru’s lips as he cuts off the distance between their faces again. When Satoru nods eagerly in a silent response, their lips brush tenderly and Suguru seizes the chance to plant a sweet peck over Satoru’s, moving his free arm to carefully wrap it around his tiny waist. Then, he moves his lips to his ear, voice soft like a lulling caress when he says: “Then take me, doll. I’m all yours tonight.”
Always such a good boy, Satoru doesn’t need to get told twice and in a quick, perfectly calculated motion, he slams his hips down onto Suguru’s lap, taking his length whole in one go with a loud cry - Suguru is glad he kept his hand around the base of his own cock otherwise he would’ve come in the spot without a doubt. Because Satoru feels glorious, his velvety smooth walls still so tight despite the toy lodged inside him until barely a minute ago - they’re sucking Suguru in, gripping like a vice, as they spasm from the force of the thrust.
They both need a moment to adapt, panting into each other’s mouth as Suguru hugs Satoru close with his strong, tattooed arms around his waist - and Satoru keeps digging his nails into his shoulders, using his hold on them as a leverage to slowly lift himself up until only the head of Suguru’s dick is inside him, breathing hard as he tentatively takes him in again, pace almost tortuous.
He still feels incredibly good and at this point Suguru isn’t even sure if it’s his own dick pulsing or Satoru’s hole fluttering around him, but he knows this isn’t going to be a long ride - so he’s decided to make the best out of it.
“Good?” Satoru wheezes, slowly building a rhythm. Suguru takes one of his hands off his own shoulder to move it to his own nape, inviting Satoru to pull at the long strands of hair there - he does, and his eyes light up in awe when Suguru moans. “You’re… So beautiful.”
Suguru lets go a breathless laugh, holding Satoru’s hips to help him bounce on his cock - up and down, absolutely stunning. The sheen layer of sweat covering his body makes him glow and Suguru almost wants to take a picture of him - of this deity selflessly gifting him a pleasure he has never known before, and that he’s scared of never meeting again after Satoru goes.
Because this thing can’t possibly last, can it? When has he been lucky enough not to lose it all, not to break every precious thing in his life?
Satoru’s eyes, still looking into his, bring him back to himself once again - and Suguru smiles up at him, pecking his lips and the tip of his nose before spanking his left cheek to spur him on.
“That’s my line, doll.” He smiles when Satoru keens, piercings massaging his walls before Suguru fixes his position just enough so he’s fucking himself on his cock better - his head meeting the man’s prostate with every slamming of his hips down. “You feel amazing, fuck… Keep going, you’re taking me so well…”
His praises rip the sweetest moan out of Satoru’s equally sweet lips, and Suguru drinks it off them - lifting his chin when Satoru pulls at his hair hard enough to make his scalp tickle and his hips thrust up in response. Satoru kisses him sloppily as he rolls his hips, thighs starting to quiver on either side of his, forcing Suguru to hold him closer to his chest to make sure he can keep going, faster and harder everytime as one of Suguru’s hands moves towards his crotch. He hasn’t even touched him yet when Satoru cries:
“Suguru!”
Fuck, Suguru could never get enough of how sweet his name sounds when moaned like that - he would do anything to keep hearing it, morning and night, every day of his life.
Licking into his mouth, Suguru plants his feet better on the ground and starts meeting Satoru’s moves, pounding up inside him when Satoru slams his hips down - making him whine and tremble between his arms. When the taste of their kiss turns salty, Suguru grins against his lips, breaking the contact to clean his tears with his tongue instead, careful not to hurt him with his piercing. Satoru looks blissed when their eyes finally meet, and Suguru’s chest feels as tight as his gut, about to burst with a feeling wildly different from the pleasure and lust.
It’s scary, again - but for the first time he doesn’t want it to stop.
“Tell me, doll.” He prods in a husky voice when Satoru starts to mutter his name like a prayer, over and over again, between sobs and broken moans - lips desperately searching for Suguru’s. Denying him the kiss, Suguru coos: “Do you need to cum?”
It’s truly amazing and unbearably hot how even when riding him so hard he’s sure he won’t feel his cock tomorrow, Satoru still melts between his arms when he talks at him like that - when he kisses him and caresses his skin like he deserves.
Suguru isn’t only lucky for having the chance of being the one to do all of this to him - with him. But also, because every single one of Satoru’s reactions make him feel like a god - make him want to give him more and more. And the best thing is that he knows Satoru would take it all, greedily and willingly - like Suguru is the actual gift, the actual blessing.
“Ple-ease~” Satoru begs into his ear, fat tears falling from his gorgeous face and rolling down Suguru’s naked chest. Suguru soothes him with soft kisses along his temple and hair as he works his aching cock at an unforgiving pace - the same one they’re keeping with their fucking. He trembles as his walls tighten around him, and Suguru knows he’s close when he asks in a breath: “Hi-Hit me.”
And this time, Suguru is the one who doesn’t need to get told twice.
As he thrust up and Satoru rolls his hips with practiced ease down, making Suguru’s cock sit deep within him, hitting that bundle of nerves dead on once again - Suguru takes his hand off his hip and drives it down onto his plush cheek, so hard the smack echoes inside the car, intermingling with Satoru’s moans.
The wiggling flesh of Satoru’s ass tingles around Suguru’s cock, and before he can even notice it, the coil deep in his gut snaps and he comes - hard and heavy, releasing deep inside Satoru’s core. The force of his orgasm makes him grip Satoru’s ass for some balance as he finishes him off too - his warm cum coating his insides along with the thumb rubbing over his slit is all Satoru needs to slow down again as his whole body seizes, then tremors beautifully over Suguru.
Suguru has half the mind to hold his dick towards his chest, milking him down with his softening dick still massaging his prostate and his hand lazily stroking him until he has spilled all of him over Suguru’s chest - not a single drop falling onto his own delicate crop top.
They stay like that for a while, riding down the high together until Satoru stills and rests his hands on Suguru’s knees behind him, chest heaving, face flush and swollen lips parted. Suguru wants to kiss him then, and so he does - a soft roll of lips, tired and giddy, full of a feeling Suguru is fully embracing now.
He’s happy like this, Satoru makes him happy - and he doesn’t want to put boundaries to something as rare as that is.
“That was…” Satoru pants after a few minutes, giggling as he wipes the sweat off his forehead, messing his bangs even more. “You’re a beast.”
Suguru laughs too, absolutely done over the seat, hands carefully caressing Satoru’s thighs now, not missing the way his touch sends goosebumps all over that beautiful, half naked body of his. He’s such a dream - Suguru never wants to wake up from.
“Says the one who wore a butt plug to our first date.” He jokes, and Satoru barks a laugh so wholehearted Suguru can’t simply take his eyes off him. He shifts slightly, making Satoru hiss when his cock drags along his over sensitive walls, making them twitch. “See? Just thinking about it makes me hard again, doll.”
“Leave my ass alone! I have a show tomorrow and I don’t even know if I’ll be able to walk, you monster.” Despite his words, he rolls his hips teasingly, making Suguru choke on a moan. This position looks good on him, braced on his arms, hands on Suguru’s knees - he’ll have to make him ride his cock like that some other day. “Should I clean my mess?”
The implicit offer comes with a hungry look as Suguru looks down to his chest - the cum there is still fresh and wet, dripping down slowly - too dense to roll quicker as Satoru’s tears did earlier. Humming a go ahead, Suguru rests his hands behind his head and proceeds to enjoy the show.
Satoru’s enthusiasm for his chest is still palpable as he licks his own spent off Suguru’s pecs, indulging on sucking on his nipples to make Suguru groan before nipping at his collarbones - when his solar plexus is clean, he uses his index finger to collect the cum on his abs, sticking it into his mouth and hollowing his cheeks around it as he sucks hard.
The sound of contentment he makes along with his sultry look is enough to make Suguru hold him by the nape and pull him closer to him - foreheads resting together, Satoru’s finger being the only distance between their lips.
“Come here.” And then Suguru is kissing him deep, mapping his whole mouth with his tongue, tasting Satoru off his own lips - when they part, there’s a trail of spit still joining them. “You’re addictive, I swear.”
“That’s my line.” Satoru cheekily counterattacks, making him smile as they finally pull apart.
The process of disentangling themselves from each other is rather difficult - Satoru needs to press two fingers into himself not to mess Suguru’s pants as he lifts himself up and moves onto the driver’s seat again. Suguru has half the mind to retrieve the butt plug from where it was sitting atop of it before pulling his pants and underwear up, tucking his sticky dick with a grimace.
He fixes his shirt and puts his jacket on too as Satoru somehow manages to get his own jeans and boxer briefs up to his thighs using only one hand before starting to frantically look around, eyebrows pulled together when he doesn’t find the plug. Suguru smirks, lifting the glass toy up as he clears his throat to drag Satoru’s attention over him, almost feeling bad when relief washes all over his face.
“Were you looking for this?” He asks, innocently - and Satoru must be quite desperate or his fingers going numb because he nods, not realizing it’s bait.
“I need to plug the cum in.” Satoru explains nonchalantly, and Suguru almost gives in at the thought of Satoru driving home with his ass still stuffed with his cum. He barely registers keeping the plug out of Satoru’s reach when he attempts to grab it out of his hand. “Suguru, what are you…”
“That’s hot, doll.” The admission comes easy and it’s truly sincere as he reaches behind himself to unlock the door, not opening it fully just yet. He brings the toy closer to his face to lick a strip up its cold surface, base to tip, letting it rest over his bottom lip when he adds: “However, I’d rather have you leaking all the way back home, so I’m keeping this.”
The look on Satoru’s face is priceless when Suguru marks his words clinking the glass tip against the metallic ball sitting on his tongue twice, the sound almost too delicate for how obscene the look of him lapping at a butt plug that has been buried inside Satoru’s ass all night must be.
Satoru gapes, apparently unable to find the words to snap back at him as Suguru quickly rolls the window down and steps out of the car, pocketing the sex toy into his jeans. His fingers brush over a different kind of cold then, the one born from brass, and before he knows what he’s even doing, -or rather, about to do-, he pulls the keys out and stares at the matching pair among the whole array.
The older copy is his, the key to his apartment, the one his landlord gave to him barely a few days after turning twenty-five - it’s slightly dark from use, but the dips and indents are still sharp. The second one is Nanako’s key, a pink dot of nail polish marking it as such - he keeps it with him when she’s abroad because she’d surely lose it otherwise.
They both open the same door - the door to his house, to his safe space, to a place he only shares with his cat now the girls are studying away from home. But right now, one of them is about to open much more - perhaps the metaphorical door to his heart, if he wants to be cheesy about it. But mostly what he hopes becomes a safe space for Satoru too – if he wants it to.
A different place, less luxurious and probably emptier compared to his house - but a place that feels like home to him, nonetheless. For when he needs to take a break from being Satoru Gojō, the supermodel, -the god-, and wants to be just Satoru for him.
Pulling his copy out of the dragon keychain, Suguru props his elbows along the rail of the open car’s window and hands it over to Satoru, who’s buttoning up his jeans between muttered curses. His eyes take in the small object being offered to him with curiosity, and Suguru fights back the urge to scratch at his nape self-consciously.
“It’s the key to my apartment.” He explains, not daring to look at Satoru yet - the implications of his actions being too heavy, perhaps even too soon, even if Satoru literally has his initials inked on his skin despite today having been their first actual (fake) date. “You can drop by whenever you want.”
A few seconds pass by and they stretch infinitely inside Suguru’s head and heart. He’s usually a patient man, but time always seems to do weird things whenever he’s close to Satoru – they seem to like to pretend they’re holding eternity between their laced fingers, and that they can make the world spin to their tune if they try hard enough.
As if they were the strongest together – infinite.
Then, Satoru finally lifts his hand too, palm up, and Suguru drops the key there like it holds the secrets to the universe. His eyes light up when Satoru’s fingers close around the rusty object with the same tenderness, and his cold fingertips brush his own warm ones - time flowing once again ever so quietly. The world feels lighter when Satoru nods, holding the key still fisted inside his hand close to his chest - the ghost of a smile as warm and bright as the sun tugging at the corner of his lips.
“I will.” He promises at last, and Suguru hopes he keeps his word.
“I’ll be waiting, then.” It’s a stunned confession as he retracts his hands and takes a step back towards the street, bowing slightly to wave Satoru goodbye through the open window to the passenger’s side. “Good night, doll. Drive safely.”
Satoru seems to need one more minute to process what just happened, and Suguru can honestly relate - it’s not every day you give the key to your apartment to the prettiest man on earth after having him ride you in his fancy Ferrari. But once Satoru comes back to earth from the faraway galaxy he comes from and still inhabits from time to time, Suguru is already down the street, hair sex-tangled and shirt in a complete disarray, but as happy as one can get.
Satoru is forced to quickly turn on the ignition and drive along the sidewalk with his flashy car reeking of sex as he half shouts into the empty street:
“Wait, Suguru! Let me drive you! This isn’t a movie, what are you doing?”
But Suguru just laughs earnestly and lets Satoru’s voice echo away like a breeze as he uses the alleyways to shortcut his way back home - the heavy weight of the glass plug anchoring him to the earth as his chest feels lighter than it ever has been.
When he reaches his apartment, he uses Nanako’s key to open the door and heads straight to his bed, still smelling of candy and the scent of the whitest early winter, tasting sugar in the tip of his tongue and coming to a realization once his body falls atop the soft mattress and pillows: setting boundaries doesn’t feel as good as breaking them for good.