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It’s a quarter past midnight when Suguru closes the door to his home after stepping inside with a tired sigh.
The modern apartment is dimly illuminated by the endless Tokyo nightlife outside and it’s eerily silent despite the sempiternal traffic and teenagers running around in hopes of finding some nice pub to spend the Friday night
It looks like something out of a sci-fi movie, the neon lights peeking through the blinds and dancing around the dark room. For a second there Suguru almost expects being greeted by a caucasian-looking android asking if he had a good day.
He did, indeed – but quite tiresome, too.
He should’ve gotten home a few hours ago, as per his normal working hours go. But someone cancelled on Sukuna last minute and he was about to jump on Choso’s bones, so he offered himself as a sacrificial lamb and took the spot to prevent his wrath.
So now he’s got a fresh new tattoo and a headache to last him a lifetime.
It’s not like Sukuna is a bad guy - he’s quite intelligent and even gives good advice when he calms down a bit and sets his anger aside. However he also happens to have an ego as big as his tattooing skills go, so getting inked by him means getting your ear chewed off during a couple hours as he praises himself during the whole process.
But it’s more than worth it, though. Sukuna is by far the best at micro-realism, and his way with color has no rival on this side of the Pacific at least.
Besides, it’s been free because he owed him from the last one Suguru did on him, so now they’re even.
He toes off his converse at the genkan, placing them aside as he finally steps fully inside, stretching his long arms over his head and looking around, searching for... hints, he guesses.
It’s a bit delusional of him but there’s still the chance Satoru is around.
He gave him a key months ago to come back to him whenever he needed a break from his too-stressful yet glamorous life – with so much travelling around it’s quite difficult finding a place that truly feels like home and Suguru felt the need to offer him a place that isn’t as empty and soulless as his multiple penthouses and mansions must feel.
Not like Suguru knows, of course - he has never been in any of them, and he only owns an apartment nice enough to get called a home but nothing close to what Satoru must be used to.
They’ve been an on and off thing for a few months now, after meeting at that random after-party in which Suguru was hired to tattoo and pierce drunk celebrities for much more than he usually cashes.
Satoru didn’t get anything that night, arguing that his body is a temple, and that he couldn’t go around mutilating it and dirtying it with cheap art (not like Suguru would call his prices cheap, but to someone who once misplaced his phone and bought one brand new right before finding he had actually left it back at Suguru’s place after their weekly hook-up, it’s no surprise that throwing thirty thousand yens on a tattoo isn’t too much).
However, his temple wasn’t apparently sacred enough not to get breached by his “mutilated” dick over a bathroom sink that same night.
Not that Suguru minded such hypocrisy, of course.
But the flat seems as tidy and clean as he left it this morning after coming back from a run, so he guesses Satoru hasn’t dropped by tonight.
It’s fine, though, he’s usually quite busy anyway. It was an odd occurrence last week when he got there in the middle of the night almost begging to be hold, to be filled - to be loved.
Because that’s the thing about Satoru, even if he looks and carries himself like a god walking on earth, (too good to be looked directly into the eye, too pretty to be real) - he always confesses himself human between Suguru’s arms, (mortal and vulnerable, scared to be alone for too long).
And that’s alright. Addictive, too.
Suguru fondly pats the head of his black cat who’s sleeping soundly on the fluffy bed Satoru got him for his birthday (Suguru’s birthday) before heading straight to the bathroom.
He feels too disgusting, -sweaty, and sticky from the soothing cream on the back of his neck-, to slip into his bed like this. And he’s sure he would pass out immediately atop of it if he dared to set a foot in the bedroom, so he decides it’s a safer option to shower first.
Besides, that will only make the feeling of soft linen sheets against naked skin all the more pleasing afterwards.
Suguru turns on the mirror lights, not risking making his headache worse with the burning white light of the ceiling lamp, and begins to peel off the plastic wrapping his new body art.
It’s crumpled, the gel-like cream making some of the loose strands falling from his bun stick uncomfortably to the still-sensitive skin. He hisses low when the plastic finally comes off and he tosses it unceremoniously into the bin, almost moaning when he unties his hair and scratches at the scalp.
As disgusting as he feels after a long day at work, he can’t deny the pleasure of finally letting his hair loose and taking off his clothes. It’s almost as good as that lazy morning sex at the break of dawn he enjoys the most.
He’s only wearing his boxer briefs when he turns the knobs on until the water is lukewarm, not as hot as he likes it but better for the itchy skin on the back of his neck. He straights up again, hooking his thumbs on the hem of his underwear and pulling them down and off his body when a voice purrs from behind, right when his ass is on full display:
“Hm, would you look at that… such a shame I can’t hang that dragon on my wall and stare at it all day...”
Suguru smirks, not letting his body language confess just how much his heart seizes at the sound of Satoru’s voice behind him.
Satoru slaps his ass playfully, grabbing a good handful of sunkissed skin right before dragging his thumb up the crack until he’s tracing the black lines embedded on his skin, going up and up his strong back until he’s playing with the soft black hair hanging between Suguru’s shoulder blades.
He spares a glance over his shoulder, not surprised to find Satoru already naked – he’s always shameless like that (something not too-shocking considering he’s the most beautiful human to walk on earth).
But Suguru doesn’t revel on his flawlessly fit body - one fashion brands fight over and photographers pay to portray dressed only in glitter or copious amounts of shimmery body oil. No, Suguru looks for his eyes, those pools of unpolluted crystalline water, staring back with enough intensity to make the most obstinate man kneel and pray to their godliness.
He may do just that tonight, he’s feeling generous after all.
“Though you didn’t like these... how did you call them again?” Suguru teases with enough cockiness to make Satoru pout - his long fingers tangle on Suguru’s hair, pulling softly until he’s turning around to drop a peck to his pink soft lips. He always tastes so so sweet.
“Technically I called them ‘cursed marks’, but that was before I had the pleasure to meet Kenjaku here.” He says that as he pats what Suguru knows is the head of the rainbow dragon that covers the whole expanse of his back - delicate fingers moving right over his left shoulder, giving him goosebumps. Satoru then drops a kiss to it for good measure before searching for Suguru’s lips again.
They kiss leisurely, for just a little while – barely a brush of lips over lips, that’s still enough to make Suguru’s insides burn. He has a power over him he’s afraid to even analyze.
When Suguru speaks again, he does so against lips as soft and sugary as cotton candy:
“Did you really name my tattoo without consulting me first?” Satoru hums as a response, way too proud of himself - and Suguru snorts, pulling him into his chest with strong arms going around his ridiculously tiny waist. Fuck, Suguru is already getting hard, just by the sight of it. “When did you get here?”
“Couple hours ago” Satoru mutters against the soft curve of Suguru’s neck, nuzzling it affectionately before biting a trail up to his jaw until he’s levelling him with that dizzying azure gaze.
Suguru wants to drown in the pure sea trapped inside his irises - has wanted to ever since he looked over the rim of his black glasses to peek at him through the smoke and sweat of rich people snorting cocaine and getting their clits pierced.
Satoru bites his cheek teasingly and that sends him back to earth after floating through the clear sky of his eyes.
Suguru hauls him up, holding him by his soft creamy thighs and prompting him to lock his long long legs around his hips with a pat to his ass. Satoru doesn’t need to get told twice and soon enough he’s holding onto Suguru like a baby koala, all pale limbs and cold flesh clashing with the warmth and slightly golden skin of Suguru’s stronger body.
He’s shorter than Satoru only by a few centimeters, but his shoulders are wider, his frame less graceful and delicate but equally elegant in a rougher, more sturdy way.
If Satoru is pretty like the moon, with his soft snowy hair and translucent skin, with his eyes like supernovas gleaming in the infinite expanse of the universe - Suguru is beautiful like the ocean in the night, a force to be reckoned with in the taut muscle of his back and thighs, the endless void of a starless sky cascading down his shoulders in the form of silky hair and marbles hidden behind half-lidded eyes.
Together they’re the whole universe – a dazing big bang.
Suguru walks inside the shower with Satoru still in his arms, checking the temperature with his own head thrown back before taking one more step back so they both get to stand under the water spraying.
Satoru jolts in surprise, holding onto Suguru tighter as the younger man runs a hand up his back, holding him by the nape so he can force their lips to collide again and again.
If the sight of Satoru is enough to stop the world on its tracks - enough to make its pace falter and run laps around the sun against the clock if that’s what Satoru wants - kissing Satoru is something close to a religious experience.
An epiphany of sorts.
Suguru has never done drugs - never had any interest at all in trying anything other than his black cigarettes and maybe some beer or a couple of shots at a random bar when he goes out with the guys from the studio.
But he thinks this is what getting high must feel like, only intensified tenfold.
He moves his lips sluggishly over Satoru’s, tasting him with all the patience and devotion one would put on eating their favorite dessert - his hot tongue running over Satoru’s, trying to guess what’s the last thing that had the honor of being inside this sinful mouth of his.
Suguru revels with a cocky smile in the way Satoru lets out soft whimpers against his lips, no doubt trying to beckon him to kiss him harder, to devour his lips the way Suguru knows drives him absolutely crazy.
But he’s in no rush tonight, not after his tiredness has faded to give way to a simmering desire - one he won’t sate with just one round.
He runs the silver ball of his tongue piercing over the roof of Satoru's mouth, biting his lower lip and pulling a bit before letting go and pecking his nose sweetly - a gesture so odd it makes Satoru crinkle it cutely.
When Suguru doesn’t kiss him again he opens his eyes, a frown clouding the limpid sky of his gaze.
“Lazy today, aren’t we?” He tries to tease, but Suguru only laughs as he sets him down on the floor, only making the crease between his white eyebrows grow acutely. “What are you-”
“Shut up for a bit, would you? I have a terrible headache today.” Suguru replies with no heat, pressing a finger to Satoru's lips - he’s quick to part them open and take the digit into that wet mouth of his, sucking on it like he was born for it. Fucking hell. “See, why do you even bother to talk at all when your mouth is way more useful doing this?”
As if to make his point go across Satoru’s pretty little head, he presses down against his tongue hard enough to almost make him gag - but of course Satoru holds it like a champ and hollows his cheeks, looking at Suguru through tear-filled eyes that are way too smug.
But Suguru likes him when he gets cocky – it makes it even sweeter, tearing him apart.
Suguru’s hand moves south then, looking not for his but Satoru’s length, holding it firmly before giving it a slow and almost painfully hard pump. And Satoru moans around his finger, saliva drooling down his chin and coating Suguru’s digit even more.
He leans into him, pulling his finger out and licking both Satoru’s chin and his own spit-covered digit clean before kneeling in front of the taller man, ready to say his prayers for tonight's sins.
Satoru's eyes flicker with starlight as his hands find purchase on Suguru’s long locks, bucking his hips slightly to rush him – always so impatient, always used to get what he wants when he wants.
For a fleeting moment Suguru considers the option of blue-balling him - it’s been a really long day and his new tattoo is starting to irritate because of the brushing of his hair over it.
But then again, he’s the one who has spoiled Satoru so much he has not a single ounce of shame in his lanky body when it comes to getting his dick sucked, so he takes full responsibility for this.
Besides, he can make Satoru drop that self-satisfied grin in no time.
“C'mon, I’m a busy man Suguru, can’t be here all night waiting till you get your whole act together.” Satoru nudges him, trying to get his head closer to his dick to no avail.
Suguru squeezes the base of his cock, coaxing something like a half-cry-half-laugh out of him. Oh, the sweet sound of retaliation.
Before giving Satoru the chance to bug him further he runs his tongue all over the underside of his shaft, from base to tip, massaging it with his piercing before pressing the metal ball into his slit hard.
Satoru keens, a sound so high pitched and chocked Suguru almost worries about him. Almost.
He pumps his cock one last time before taking it into his mouth, resting his hands on Satoru’s hips and going down and down until the heavy head is hitting the back of his throat and his nose is buried in soft white pubes.
Suguru breathes slowly through his nose as Satoru pants already, his hands painfully tight on his hair.
Suguru loves it.
When his jaw grows accustomed to the stretch, he bobs his head up and down in a regular rhythm, not too fast but neither slow as he lets Satoru catch the pace until he’s starting to buck his hips in sync.
It’s then when Suguru lets his hips go and moves his hands to his ass, unashamedly parting his cheeks as his middle finger easily finds the path to his entrance.
Satoru shivers and fucks harder into Suguru’s mouth when he traces the rim of muscle with his fingertip, slowly pushing inside. He’s tight - the slide isn’t as smooth as Suguru expected it to be despite the water, so he swirls his tongue around the tip of his cock and runs his piercing over the ridges in a way that never fails to make Satoru’s knees falter.
When a loud moan breaks through him and he hunches over Suguru’s kneeled form he seizes the chance to push his whole finger inside him, making Satoru gasp in shock.
“Fuck- fuck Suguru!”
Suguru hums in acknowledgement around his cock, the vibrations making it twitch inside his mouth in such a delicious way Suguru can’t help but moan low too, in the back of his throat, before quickening his pace.
Satoru’s blunt nails scratch his scalp again, his hips moving slowly as he lets Suguru do him as he pleases. He’s resting his weight against the tiled wall and Suguru has half the mind to keep the hand that isn’t busy prodding at his ass holding him by the hip, so he doesn’t collapse.
That happened once and even if Satoru said the orgasm was worth the consequent black eye he got, he felt quite bad looking at the tabloids the next day - though he looked really good in that one bad-boy themed photoshoot he got out of it.
Suguru may have one or five pics from that one safely tucked into his phone gallery.
His jaw starts to ache a bit when he swallows around Satoru with trained mastery, the finger pumping in and out of him stilling and rubbing over the bundle of nerves inside him at the same time.
But right when he’s about to press down hard and drag his pad over it to finish Satoru off, the man squeals and pushes him off his dick with a wet pop.
Suguru looks up at him in confusion and a bit of offense - precum and spit staining his lower lip and chin as he stares in disbelief when Satoru takes himself into his hand and starts to jerk himself off.
“What the f-” Suguru rasps out, getting interrupted by Satoru’s pleading eyes and shattered voice mid-curse.
“Lemme come on your face, please- please Sugu-ah”
Suguru can’t find the words for a long beat of his too loud heart.
Satoru looks wrecked - wet hair sticking to his forehead and water dripping like virgin tears down his angelic face. He’s heaving, his cock angry and red as he waits for permission, for his permission to find release.
And fuck, Suguru has never taken a load to the face - found it kind of degrading, even - but right now there’s absolutely nothing he’d rather take.
He smirks confidently, grabbing Satoru’s knees and pulling him closer as he comes face to face with his crotch again. He looks up from there and opens his mouth pliantly, silver piercing glistening and serving as aim.
And Satoru curses under his breath, pumping himself furiously one, two times in shallow movements before spilling all over Suguru’s mouth, cheeks and chin with a choked cry.
Suguru finds out then and there that he actually enjoys taking a load to his face.
Satoru languidly touches himself through the aftershocks as Suguru licks his lips and the tip of Satoru’s dick clean before swallowing, getting impossibly harder at the taste of Satoru on his tongue. He’s worse than the nicotine he gets into his bloodstream and lungs every single day.
“Fucking addictive.” Suguru growls, standing up again just in time to hold Satoru, who’s already making grabby hands at him, like a little kid. He chuckles softly and kisses his forehead, hugging him tightly against his chest. “Let me clean you up so we can move this to the bed.”
Suguru doesn’t miss the way Satoru flinches, his cock twitching again against Suguru’s hip at the veiled promise of a good fuck. God, Suguru thinks, he’s insatiable.
Ignoring his own aching cock he washes and rinses Satoru’s hair tenderly, massaging his scalp and temples before moving onto his lean and perfect body, dropping kisses here and there as he makes work of his whole length from head to toes.
Satoru lets himself be cherished, be adored, and worshipped as he deserves.
Because as much as Suguru loves Satoru’s human side, he’s a mere mortal too - weak to Satoru’s beauty as much as the rest of mankind is.
Except for some reason he has been chosen by this god to pleasure him - to see all of him, to touch both his body and soul in ways no one else has before and no one else will after him.
He’s a lucky man, he knows - but Satoru’s head would get even bigger if he ever said it aloud. At least while he’s awake.
Suguru can’t, for the life of him, risk it, not even in the zombie-like state Satoru always finds himself in his afterglow.
It’s kind of funny - he’s always like putty between Suguru’s hands, but he becomes warm and thick as if made of honey after he has climaxed. Sticky like it, too - and just as sweet.
“C'mon, go prep yourself for me while I finish washing my hair” Suguru commands after one last wet kiss and a loud slap to Satoru’s butt once he’s clean.
Satoru pouts a bit but complies, walking out of the shower and leaving Suguru to his things.
Once Suguru hears the bathroom door click shut again he smiles to himself, rinsing his black hair and turning off the shower.
He steps out carefully, hastily drying his body with a soft towel, hissing when the cotton rubs his swollen cock. He tugs at it a couple times, only to make sure it doesn’t come down as he finishes tidying the bathroom and brushing his hair off his face.
He also takes care of drying it a bit so he can tie it up in a high ponytail, sighing at the soothing feeling of cold air on his tattooed nape. Before he forgets about it, he cleans it neatly and rubs some new cream on it in case he’s too lazy to do so after fucking Satoru’s brains out in a bit.
Once everything is settled, Suguru walks out of the bathroom towards his room.
It’s a short walk there, but the coil inside his stomach warms up almost painfully as his ears catch the sweet, sweet moans slipping past Satoru’s lips and the obscene squelching sounds acting as a background to it.
Suguru enters his bedroom without much fuss, eyes immediately drawn to the sight on his bed.
Satoru is sprawled there, legs parted like the cheap whore he is deep inside, and three fingers going in and out of his sloppy hole.
There’s lube everywhere - coating his fingers and hand, making his inner thighs glisten and even smudging his forearm and right cheek.
Suguru snorts at the filthy scene, grabbing his own too-hard cock and pumping it indolently as he stares at Satoru’s gaping hole once he slaps his hand off of it. Satoru whines -always so needy-, tugging at his own white bangs when Suguru leans down to blow softly into it, watching it twitch with amusement.
It’s almost unfair how even his asshole is stupidly pretty - puckering, and tight with just the faintest tinge of pink around the rim. A magical sight among white flesh and white pubes.
It’s like he’s made of marble and pink quartz – tantalizingly soft as a raincloud behind all his sharp exterior.
When he’s with Suguru he isn’t Gojō the world-famous supermodel anymore. He’s just Satoru to him.
He’s all that beauty exterior, of course, but he’s also much much more.
He’s the loud, funny yet sometimes vulnerable and small creature for whom Suguru has fallen - hard. He’s the charming presence smiling confidently at the cameras as he strikes on a pose, and the lazy cat-like human who hogs all the blankets when they’re watching a movie on the couch.
And he’s also Suguru’s own personal slut in moments like this.
“Suguru~” Satoru whines again when Suguru wets the tip of his dick with the lube coating Satoru’s crack, sliding it over his hole, letting the head almost catch on the rim before rubbing it over his balls. “Suguru, fuck me, c’mon...”
“You’re so needy.” Suguru chastises him, slapping his thigh hard enough to make the skin bloom red in the shape of his hands. He forces Satoru to open his legs wider, wanting to see it all- wanting him to expose himself, to offer himself up for Suguru to devour him, to destroy him. “Tell me, what do you want, Satoru?”
Satoru looks up with hazed eyes, seemingly taken aback by Suguru’s question - or perhaps he’s just so high on his horniness he doesn’t even know what Suguru has asked.
So Suguru slaps his balls to bring him back to earth - Satoru yelps, gripping the sheets.
“I- I want- you! I want you!” He stutters, looking at Suguru with his big doe eyes. Suguru mutters a curse and crawls atop of him, inviting Satoru to wrap his legs around his hips. “I want all of you”
It’s barely a breath - a secret muttered to Suguru’s lips as they catch each other’s mouths in a deep bruising kiss.
It’s all tongue and pressing into each other as if to see who can get the most out of the other, and it leaves Suguru feeling lightheaded when they part. Though, Satoru usually has that effect on him.
Suguru looks into Satoru’s eyes as he finally, finally breaches through him, breath getting caught in his lungs as Satoru pinches his eyes shut and moans beautifully through red bitten lips. He looks like a Renaissance painting – face and chest flushed bright red, white hair sprawled around his head like a halo, and legs open to welcome Suguru home, to embrace his manhood as deep as he can.
Suguru bottoms out with a grunt, filling Satoru to the brim, tenderly brushing his bangs off his eyes and pressing a thumb under his cheekbone to make him open his eyes and meet his own alabaster ones again.
Satoru looks like he could cry any moment now, and Suguru wants to see him break – he’s set on making him bawl on his dick tonight.
“Slow or fast?” He forces out with a shallow thrust, rubbing Satoru’s insides with the tip of his cock so he feels the bar of his piercings against his velvety walls. Satoru blinks, the first tears getting caught on his long eyelashes as he bites his bottom lip to suppress a moan. Suguru traces circles over his cheek idly as he waits for an answer – a gentle smile gracing his lips.
“Deep.” Satoru mumbles after a beat and Suguru grins wickedly, pressing a quick hard kiss to his parted lips before holding himself more comfortably with an arm next to Satoru’s head.
“I can work with that.”
Suguru gives Satoru no warning, no time to brace himself at all for the absolute relentless pace he sets from the beginning. His hips slam against his plushy ass with force enough to bruise and shake the whole bedframe as his cock goes in and out him over and over again - each time faster and harder than the previous one.
Satoru tries to hold onto something, anything really - the sheets, Suguru’s forearm, his own hair before finally setting on Suguru’s shoulders so he can pull him closer to his body again. His lips part when his breath gets ragged and every thrust of Suguru’s hips feels like a punch to the gut.
They kiss with all the same force and desperation again as Suguru fucks into him – as if they were two lovers running out if time, going for a quick fuck goodbye before pretending nothing happened and going back to their respective partners with just bruises on their skin and the tingling on their lips as proof of their secret rendezvous.
But they’re in no rush today, as Suguru said, nor are they going back to anyone but each other as soon as this is over, so as soon as he feels Satoru’s over sensitive body get tighter around him again he comes to a sudden halt and pulls out of him almost completely.
Satoru’s cry is pitiful but Suguru kisses it better before going down his neck with a hunger he can never fully satiate.
They have a strict no marks policy - Satoru because of his job and Suguru because of his nosy friends. But he finds a nice spot right behind his ears that the longer strands of his haircut would cover enough not to be too evident tomorrow morning.
He latches onto the skin there as he resumes the movements of his hips, this time agonizingly slow, feeling Satoru’s insides - the ridges and bumps of tight warm flesh, the metal of his piercings rubbing over him, before reaching deep, deeper, until his balls are pressed against his skin and his chest is flush to his.
Satoru starts crying, then – big fat tears raining down from the clear sky of his eyes to his parted lips as his breath comes short.
Suguru’s cock grows bigger inside Satoru’s hole, stretching him painfully as he fucks him slow – full of lust and full of love.
“Sugu-”, he hiccups and moans, sniffling right as Suguru finishes brushing his skin with his tongue and teeth, sucking hard and looking for Satoru’s endlessly blue eyes again. They’re filled with star-like tears, spilling over his cheeks, and running down the sides of his face. He’s so utterly breathtaking like this. “Suguru, please-”
Suguru loves it when he begs – loves it when he cries, loves it when he’s so vulnerable under him.
It makes him feel so powerful – yet so weak for him.
“Shhh, I’ve got you, sweetheart, I’m gonna take care of you so good” Suguru coos and Satoru nods slowly, his breath hitched as a new sob breaks through him when Suguru snaps his hips hard suddenly and aims right at his prostate.
A full waterfall of tears like diamonds cascade down Satoru’s perfect porcelain face and Suguru licks them off viciously, like he’s dying of thirst as he slams into him with no reservations now, abusing his sweet spot relentlessly, getting more and more fired up as Satoru cries and moans and arches his back off the bed and scratches his back up and down like a cat, garbling gibberish that faintly sounds like Suguru’s name.
He takes one of Satoru’s hand in his, kisses his palm reverently and presses their entwined fingers to his forehead as he closes his eyes and braces himself to push deep, deeper inside until he’s sure Satoru can feel him in his stomach.
And right then Satoru comes untouched all over his own abs and chest, with Suguru’s name on his lips and his voice broken by a pleased cry.
Suguru moves one last time gently -in and out-, dropping their hands to the side so he can kiss Satorus lips, breaching the seam of his mouth with his warm tongue so he can taste the saltiness of his tears mixed with the bitterness of Satoru’s own cum from the earlier blowjob.
And when his cock buries itself deep into his hot, clenching insides one last time, Suguru cums too with a grunt.
Filling Satoru with his seed is also an addictive thing – one that wakes something primal in him, something animalistic that makes him want to lock Satoru up in the secrecy of his room and keep him here forever, naked so he can see his flawless body modelling just for him, for the pleasure of his eyes, for the privilege of his artistic hands.
Suguru moves their clasped hands to Satoru’s stomach, to the mess of cum there, and he presses Satoru’s palm over his own abs so he can feel Suguru inside, pumping him full of his warm release, breeding him, claiming him in and out. Satoru just whimpers, his red-rimmed eyes looking for Suguru’s focused ones as they share one last kiss while they’re still one.
Satoru is still sniffling and trying to regain his composure when Suguru pulls out carefully, shushing Satoru when he clenches down on him – his piercings catching on the rim before he finally slips out. He uses two fingers to avoid making a mess on the sheets as he reaches over Satoru to get the wet towels on his nightstand.
Too lost in his blessed out state and his own tiredness after going through two orgasms in a row, Satoru can’t do anything other than mewl softly while Suguru fishes his own cum out of his hole until he’s sure he’s clean enough not to stain his sheets while they sleep. Then he cleans Satoru’s stomach, kissing his up and down his body before cleaning his own cock and throwing the dirtied things to the floor.
He’ll take care of that tomorrow morning, when Satoru is gone and his bed is empty again.
Suguru covers both Satoru and himself with the covers after slipping into the bed at last, feeling the strain of his neck and his headache from earlier slowly coming back after the high of his climax dies out again.
He holds Satoru’s ethereal frame to his chest, running his fingertips over his ribs as he kisses the blooming hickey behind his ear. Satoru caresses his forearm in a trance, breath evening out slowly as sleep starts to get the best of him.
The first time he cried during sex Suguru almost had a heart attack, thinking he had hurt him somehow with the two piercings decorating the tip of his cock. Turns out Satoru just gets emotional when he’s getting dicked down by him.
That’s something that Suguru holds very dearly to his heart now.
When Satoru has calmed down and his arms prod Suguru to hold him closer to his chest -always content to be the little spoon despite being taller-, Suguru smiles, kissing his neck and shoulder before whispering into his ear:
“I got a new tat today”
He’s not sure if Satoru is already asleep, and Suguru is about to doze off too when his lover turns around with curious eyes full of wonder.
Suguru looks at him for a moment that feels like a lifetime, and then turns around so Satoru can see the new colored piece on his nape – it’s probably red, and a little bit swollen too, but it’s clear what it is.
“Do you like it?” he asks, after Satoru doesn’t say a word.
Nimble fingers trace the side of his neck then, like a butterfly kiss, running up the soft curve from his shoulder to his ear as if not to touch the sensitive skin.
Suguru feels the praise over it anyway, and shivers at the silent reverence seeping through it.
“And you said I was the whipped one...” Satoru mutters, at last, holding onto Suguru, who smiles to himself and reaches back to hold Satoru’s hand. Satoru laces their fingers together and kisses his knuckles one by one before adding, when Suguru looks at him over his shoulder: “It’s tacky, but it’s really well done so I’ll overlook it.”
Way too full of himself for someone who cries every single time they have sex, Suguru can’t help but think.
Fondly, to his dismay.
Suguru turns around and Satoru lets himself be cuddled again, this time face to face.
He snuggles into Suguru’s chest and hums contently when his arms grip him tighter, as the younger man presses a kiss to his forehead.
Once Suguru is sure Satoru is asleep so he can’t act all cocky in the morning and throw his words back at him, he tells him a secret of his:
“I wanted some proof of my luck”
And if Suguru said Satoru was crazy after letting him mark the skin of his ribs forever with the promise of infinity and beyond after just one night, Suguru must be a hopeless parishioner of this church devoted to him because now he has the sky of Satoru’s eyes painted on his skin for all eternity as well.
Way too much, for a secret affair under Tokyo’s endless sky.