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Of all the yakuza bosses in the country, Suguru Geto has a reputation for being reasonable.
This being said, there are still rules. And the rules are absolute.
Do not betray the family.
Protect your comrades.
Demonstrate absolute loyalty and unquestioning obedience at all times.
Show no mercy to your enemies.
Uphold honour and tradition.
And absolutely not do not track dirt into his home. Or his offices, for that matter.
But, he has a reputation for being reasonable. Most of the time, if you have a good explanation, if you repent adequately, if you swear fealty, make a blood oath, sacrifice something of equal value to your transgression to demonstrate your remorse, you can be forgiven.
Because Suguru Geto is known to be a reasonable man.
Most of the time.
But there is one rule that is beyond absolute. One law that can never be broken, one transgression that can never be forgiven.
Never disrespect the princess.
Satoru Gojo is always by Suguru’s side. He follows him everywhere, like a lovesick puppy. A comparison that everybody thinks, but nobody dares say out loud. Not since the first person spoke those words into life and broke the cardinal rule. Not since they found that same person’s head floating in Tokyo Bay. Not since they never found the rest of his body.
There are many rumours about Satoru’s origins. Some say that he is the son of a noble family who broke free from the privileged birdcage of his life to run away from home and become a yakuza bride. Some say that he was a mere sewer rat, a street urchin who began life as an underling of the group before catching the boss’s eye with his own startling blue gaze. Some say he was actually a member of a rival gang, gifted to Suguru as a means of peace-making between the two factions after a deal went south. Some even say, very quietly lest anyone hear, that he used to use those pretty eyes, startling white hair, and long lean limbs to turn tricks on the street until the night he propositioned Suguru, and one night together swiftly turned into every night.
There are many stories about where Satoru came from and how he made his way to Suguru’s side. But it doesn’t matter. Because whatever he was before, now he is one thing and one thing only.
Since the moment they met, he has been Suguru’s one and only. He belongs to the terrifying man, body and soul. And everyone who sees the two of them together knows, Suguru belongs to Satoru in equal measure. The only man who can twist the boss around his little finger, who can tell him what to do.
And that makes Satoru just as terrifying as Suguru.
Though you wouldn’t think it to look at him right now. Even during important meetings, Satoru never leaves Suguru’s side. Or, for the most part, his lap.
Even when the head of the syndicate has gathered all his lieutenants, assistants, and assorted advisers to his side on a rare occasion when he allows his underlings to play the role of guests in his private country estate, Satoru is there. Wearing a kimono which falls to mid-thigh, silky cobalt patterned with delicate blue and white flowers the colour of his eyes and the colour of his hair. It falls away to expose the muscled white expanse of his chest, barely covering the crease of his pectorals where it ties at his waist, the short skirt revealing the angles of his bare legs draped sideways over the dark suit trousers of his more appropriately dressed partner.
Nobody says anything, because everybody knows the absolute rule. Besides, the estate is Satoru’s home as well after all, so it stands to reason that he too commands the room, even if he doesn't typically contribute to the gatherings.
He looks bored. He always looks bored during these meetings, but still he attends. Whether it’s to reinforce to everyone present that he is and forever will be the untouchable presence in Suguru’s life, or because he’s simply so whipped that he can’t bear to be without his other half for more than a few hours, nobody is quite sure. But the way his eyes rarely stray from his partner's face whilst the yakuza boss listens dispassionately to his advisors speak suggests the latter. And this meeting has been going on for a particularly long time.
And the white-haired man is beginning to get restless.
Suguru’s tattooed right arm rests on the arm of his chair, fingers drumming ever so slightly against the wooden armrest as he views the proceedings. His left arm is looped around Satoru’s thin waist, supporting him as he perches on his lap. His large hand rests on Satoru’s thigh, just below the hem of his robe, and he squeezes the exposed flesh of the other man’s leg ever so slightly in reprimand as he feels Satoru shifting on top of him.
An action which just makes him squirm more.
Satoru’s left hand rests on the thick curve of Suguru’s forearm, feeling the muscles contract ever so slightly as he squeezes him. His right arm is looped over the other man’s shoulders as Satoru rests his head on his own, the top of his hair tickling the sharp line of Suguru’s face. His piercing eyes alight on each member of the gathered group in turn as he scans the room, a gaze which they do not return.
Even looking directly at the princess in Suguru’s presence can be dangerous. Satoru is extremely aware of the fact that they all know this, and he loves to mess with the subordinates, trying to bait one into looking at him, to trick them into reacting. Because he just loves to see his partner get possessive.
As the current advisor drones on, Suguru pushes the silk of Satoru’s kimono a little higher up his leg, fingers skimming the sensitive skin beneath, and smirks ever so slightly in the corners of his mouth at the way the motion of the action causes Satoru’s breath to catch in his throat. And the princess realises, the boss is growing just as restless as he is.
So he decides to see how far he can push him.
"I'm bored Suguru." He says loudly, rolling his eyes as he turns his head to face him, so close that his lips almost brush the curve of the other man’s cheek, ignoring the rest of the room.
"Behave now pet," Suguru responds with a quiet murmur, barely glancing at the white-haired man out of the corner of his eye. Barely noticing the scowl that crosses Satoru’s face at this gentle telling-off. And to the advisor whose words stalled when they were rudely cut across by Satoru's interruption, Suguru simply says, "Please, continue."
But even without a change in his expression, everyone can tell that Suguru's attention is entirely on Satoru now.
Everyone apart from Satoru, apparently.
"Make me." He huffs out his annoyance at being ignored in a soft little breath, voice still loud enough so that everyone present can hear, can see how he’s deliberately pushing his partner for a reaction. Trying to throw him off balance.
But Suguru is well known for being sure-footed.
"You don't want to embarrass me in front of all these people, do you?" Suguru’s voice is as steady as before, though now so quiet that Satoru is the only one who can hear his words clearly, as he hums softly and slides his hand further up Satoru’s leg. Still not looking at him, face held forwards and away. "You don't want me to embarrass you."
"Maybe I do." Satoru bites back the hitch in his breath, moving his lips to press softly against Suguru’s neck to hide the tiny whimper that threatens to arise as that rough hand moves up the sensitive skin of his inner thigh, wrist twisting so his fingertips brush threateningly close to an even more sensitive area.
Exactly where Satoru wants him to be.
The advisor doesn't stop talking even as Satoru presses his mouth more insistently to his partner’s neck, even as Suguru’s hand disappears beneath the fabric of the kimono. He doesn't change his expression at all, even though he knows he's not being listened to anymore. Because, everyone knows, to acknowledge that fact could be deadly.
"I told you I'd stop bringing you along with me if you can't sit still and be quiet." Suguru hums quietly out of the side of his mouth, but his lips quirk in the tiniest way that betrays his amusement at his impetuous paramour. Even as he still doesn’t look at him, his gaze remaining trained on the man speaking unheard words in the vacuum of the room.
Suguru doesn’t want to appear rude, after all. Even as his amusement multiples when the white-haired man pulls back from nuzzling his neck to scowl at him.
"You wouldn't." He pouts, sticking his bottom lip out in a way that makes him as a grown man look entirely ridiculous even with his sharp, almost-feminine features. But it’s a way he knows will make Suguru melt regardless. If only he would fucking look at him properly.
So he’s surprised when the other man responds short and sharp, as the quirking corners of his mouth fall back to a thin humourless line.
"Try me."
As he issues a challenge, one that Satoru will always rise to.
Alright then. Satoru seethes internally as he shifts his position on Suguru’s lap. If you won’t look at me, I’ll make you.
He swivels his legs to the side so he can hitch his hips closer to the focal point of Suguru’s crotch, using his grip on the dark-haired man’s left arm to push himself so he’s sitting square on his lap rather than draped across it. And Suguru’s hand clenches harder on his thigh as Satoru angles his hips so his ass is fully over his groin now, as he grinds down into him.
When he looks over his shoulder and sees Suguru clench his jaw, he knows he’s got him. Even before he feels him hardening beneath him. A sensation that makes an ocean of fire rear in the pit of his stomach.
"You're really asking for it you know?" Suguru’s hand moves all of a sudden and, before Satoru can react, the other man has his chin in a vice-like grip.
Suguru brings their lips to within touching distance, but the grasp he has on Satoru's chin stops the other man from closing the gap as he twists his face in protest against the hold. And Suguru murmurs against his mouth, quietly enough that the rest of the room can't hear, though they're all acutely aware of the threat regardless.
"You really just want me to bend you over the table and take you right here in front of everyone, don't you?"
Satoru whines low and needy as he grinds himself down into the hard outline of Suguru’s dick through the fabric of his suit trousers, confirming that is exactly what he wants.
As Suguru's hand moves between his legs.
"You're soaking just thinking about it," he purrs as he presses firmly against the thin fabric of Satoru's underwear, and he's a little surprised by the fact that he actually bothered to wear any today. "You needy little thing."
"Only for you." Satoru bites back the noises that swell in his throat as Suguru starts to run his fingers along his slit, pressing him apart through the saturated fabric separating their skin.
"That's right." Suguru purrs as he pushes Satoru's panties to the side. "Only for me."
"Please–" This time Satoru barely tries to suppress the strangled noise which rises from his chest when he feels Suguru’s thick fingers delve inside, running a wet line up his cunt as it opens greedily to welcome him.
"Shh pretty,” Suguru murmurs softly as he releases his chin. “Ren-san is speaking, so if you can't be quiet I'll make you go wait for me until we're done here."
"You wouldn't." Satoru pouts again, but his legs tremble and he's having trouble controlling his expression as Suguru works him. Trailing his fingers up and down his slick without pressing inside, skimming against his clit without really touching it.
"Be good and I'll make it up to you. But if you can't be quiet…” Suguru pushes gently against his entrance, smirking at the way he whines at the denial of promised pressure. “I'll punish you afterwards."
"You wouldn't," Satoru repeats, but this time they both know, Suguru absolutely would.
As he issues the challenge again,
"Try me."
This time Satoru doesn’t respond, he can’t respond, because those thick fingers are suddenly pushing inside him, scissoring him open. As he lets out a loud shuddering moan, and realises he's already lost.
But they both know, that's really what he wanted all along.
There's a sudden lull in the room, a silence which shoots through the space like a gunshot in the wake of the mewling cry as it left Satoru's lips.
For a moment nobody moves, nobody speaks. Until a brave man, the advisor who was interrupted yet again, hesitantly asks,
“Is everything alright, Geto-sama?”
He doesn't address Satoru directly. They all know they’re not allowed to address Satoru directly, not unless he addresses them first. Suguru is, after all, very protective of his partner. And Satoru, spoilt and haughty as he is even as he plays the part of Suguru's pet, does not often deign to speak with those he perceives as beneath him.
“Perfectly.” Suguru's expression is set and emotionless even as the slick sounds of his fingers as they begin to plunge in and out of Satoru's cunt fill the sudden silence in the room. “Do continue.”
And nobody says anything. For a moment, nobody even breathes.
And so the gathering continues.
By the time the meeting is over Satoru is nothing but a quivering trembling mess in Suguru's lap, arms thrown over the other man's shoulders and face buried in his neck as he begs him in an endless stream of whimpering whispers,
"Please please please I'll be good I won’t do it again I promise I'll do whatever you want I’ll behave I’ll be quiet I’ll be so good for you just please Suguru please just let me–"
As the congregation begin to file out, each stopping on their way to pay their respects to Suguru with a deep short bow, he turns to the man shaking in his lap.
"You're making a mess on my trousers," Suguru speaks so matter-of-factly, as though Satoru has just spilt some coffee on him rather than creamed all over his lap. "And my fingers.”
Satoru lets out a keening whine as Suguru suddenly removes his hand, just skimming against his neglected clit as he withdraws, the short insufficient touch sending lightning bolts through Satoru’s body after the edging he’s been forced to endure for what feels like hours at this point.
And Suguru presses his fingers to Satoru’s panting lips as he issues a dark command.
“Clean them for me.”
Satoru groans low and desperate in his throat as Suguru pushes his fingers inside, pressing against his tongue and into the back of his mouth as he deep throats those thick fingers and tastes himself on them.
"Good boy." Suguru chuckles, the control in his voice hiding how deeply deeply turned on he is as he watches his partner suckle on him desperately, swirling his tongue around and between his fingers as he licks his own juices from them. The way his pouty lips open and close, blue eyes wide and glassy and begging for respite.
He pulls his hand back suddenly, replacing his fingers with his mouth as he crashes into Satoru with a biting kiss now that they are finally alone together. Lips part eagerly as he delves inside, tasting Satoru’s slick and saliva as their tongues meet, as they wrestle desperately for control.
He throws his arms around Satoru’s waist and the other man’s hands instinctively grasp tight around his shoulders as he stands, pale legs snaking around his waist to pull their bodies together. As Suguru grabs him firmly by the ass, digging his fingers into the soft flesh and making Satoru moan into his mouth.
Their lips barely separate as he lifts Satoru from the room, kissing and licking and biting desperately at each other as he carries him down the hall to their bedroom.
“You waited so long, you did good.” Suguru murmurs as he sets him down on the bed, as Satoru scoots back and pulls his underwear down his legs beneath the kimono as Suguru climbs on top. He straddles the white-haired man, sitting back on his knees, legs over his waist, crotch over his.
"You're a fucking tease." Satoru pouts again, trying to appeal to Suguru’s better, softer nature. The side he shows only to him. But despite the fact that he’s looking at him now, he still doesn't relent. "You didn't even let me come."
"I know baby, I know,” Suguru speaks so soft and sympathetic that it almost sounds as though he is, but something deeper and darker and more dangerous laces his tone as he looks down at him, running the backs of his fingers gently across Satoru’s cheek. “But it makes you so wet and desperate for me, doesn't it?"
He runs his hand down to play across Satoru’s chest, the other joining as he pushes the fabric of the kimono away. Without warning Suguru’s fingers move to pinch hard at Satoru's nipples, squeezing them in tandem as he rolls the erect buds between rough fingertips. Satoru lets out a sharp cry at the new sensation, so rough and so beautiful after the denial of pressure, his tongue parting his lips alongside little whimpering moans as his back arches off the bed to press his chest more insistently into Suguru’s willing hands.
"See,” Suguru purrs as he leans in close again, running his tongue along the shell of Satoru’s ear, tasting his need as he whispers, “So sensitive. So ready to break."
"Just get on with it before I lose my mind," Satoru groans deep in the back of his throat, eyes heavy-lidded and fluttering. He gropes at Suguru with a trembling hand, uncoordinated fingers scrabbling against the buckle of his belt where the other man leans over him.
"Not yet." Suguru grabs his wrist and squeezes tightly, pulling his hand away and smirking at the whine the pale-haired man lets out in protest. "You still need to be punished.” He raises Satoru’s hand to his mouth instead, pressing a gentle kiss against the sensitive skin of his wrist as he murmurs, “For distracting me during my very important meeting.”
"Fuck the meeting,” Satoru pants as his tongue parts his lips, blue eyes focused on the place Suguru’s mouth meets his skin. "Aren't I more important to you?"
"Satoru." Suguru stills, suddenly serious. He releases his partner's wrist and in one quick movement both hands fly to his face, palms cupping the pale man's sharp jawline, thumbs stroking his cheekbones as he curls his fingers into the hollow of his neck and tilts his head towards him. As he presses their foreheads together and looks deep into Satoru’s startling eyes, black meeting blue. “You are the most important thing in the world to me. But our lives come at a cost, and you have to respect that."
"I don't care about money or status or any of that shit,” Satoru bites out his words aggressively despite the softness that sinks into his eyes as he brings his hands up to gently stroke along the curve of Suguru’s face, returning the soft embrace. “I just want you. I'd be as happy being with you without all of this."
"I know love." The softness leaves Suguru’s touch as he moves his left hand to grab Satoru by the throat, pinning him down to the bed beneath him. "But still, it does thrill you doesn't it?" His other hand snakes swiftly between his legs again, easily finding his pulsing entrance as he begins to fuck him roughly, two fingers plunging deep inside whilst he finally strokes the pad of his thumb against his clit. "You love the power, and you love everybody watching. Knowing that you're all mine. That you belong to me."
And I to you.
"Please Suguru," Satoru’s head presses back into the bed, chin jutting, eyes closed, fangs protruding over his trembling bottom lip as he lifts his hips into the motions of Suguru’s hand, begging for release with body and voice. "I'm so close–"
“I know.” Suguru repeats as he ups his motion, the swirl of his thumb against Satoru’s swollen clit sending lightning bolts through his overstimulated body, his insides wound so tight he’s just about ready to snap. He recognises the familiar motions in his hips, the way his cunt clenches around his fingers and how his pathetic little whimpers turn to cries in his mouth. But, instead of delivering the last few strokes, the final few thrusts of his fingers to take him over the edge and into the oblivion he’s so desperately seeking, he pulls back all of a sudden. Satoru doesn’t even have time to protest at the loss of pressure as he teeters on the precipice before Suguru brings his hand back down sharply, slapping his pussy with open-palmed fingers instead, pain and pleasure entwined.
"Fuck!!" Satoru cries out, curling forward into his abdomen but Suguru doesn’t let him rise, still holding him down by his throat so his windpipe compresses against the palm cutting off his air supply. “You fucking bastard–” He chokes pathetically as Suguru draws back, panting up at him with heavy-lidded furious eyes, grabbing the arm holding him by the neck and digging his nails in as Suguru’s tongue protrudes to lick his juices from his fingers.
“I know.” Suguru coos sympathetically as he reaches down to spread him open again, leaning back on his haunches to admire how pink and pretty Satoru’s insides are, as he twitches and gushes around his fingers. He exposes his clit and watches in amazement how the other man trembles around him, but doesn't press his fingers to him again.
Because he knows it would only take a simple touch, a few more languid strokes to make Satoru come. So he doesn't, not yet. Because he wants to see him gush some more.
“Stay there,” he commands darkly as he releases his neck, moving his hand to finish the job Satoru tried to start earlier as he undoes his belt buckle and unbuttons his trousers. His hand on Satoru’s pussy keeps him pressed open as he unzips and pulls his trousers down just enough to let his cock spring free, and he smirks wickedly at the keening whine the white-haired man lets out at the sight of him, hard and wet with pre-cum. Just as ready and desperate as Satoru is.
Well, almost.
Keeping him pressed open, Suguru rests the base of his thick cock between Satoru's folds and starts to move his hips, rubbing himself back and forth through his slick. As Satoru's needy whimpers grow louder, as he twists his shoulders against the mattress and lifts his head, bucking his hips into the motions of Suguru’s.
“I thought I told you to stay there,” Suguru murmurs with barely contained threat as he grabs Satoru’s thin wrists and pins him to the bed, hands planted either side of his head as he continues to rub teasingly against him, coating himself in Satoru's juices and just teasing his clit with the ridge of his cockhead.
He laughs low in the back of his throat when Satoru tries to move his hips, to angle himself so Suguru enters as he rubs up against him. Suguru presses his tip against Satoru’s entrance – just a little, just enough to allow him to think he's won, just enough so his eyes slip shut in anticipation – before moving away again.
“Fuck you,” Satoru croaks weakly as his eyes flick open, allowing small little tears to escape and slide slowly down his cheeks. Tears of frustration and desperate desire. And Suguru just laughs again, and wipes them from his face.
“No babe.” The sight of Satoru crying with sheer need tells Suguru he’s pushed him just far enough. Just to the edge of where he wants him to be. “I’m going to fuck you.”
And then he finally does.
Satoru digs his nails into his palms and teeth into his bottom lip as Suguru presses inside in one hard motion, meeting almost no resistance as Satoru’s overstimulated hole opens to him. His sharp cry is smothered by Suguru’s mouth as he leans down to kiss the white-haired man needily, desperately. Teeth and tongues clashing as he begins to move, pulling out almost entirely so he can thrust back in, hard and rough, enjoying how Satoru clenches around him and moans in the back of his throat.
“You’re trembling Satoru, that's not like you,” Suguru smirks a little too proudly as he pulls back from the other man’s mouth. “Here,” he presses one hand against his chest, feeling Satoru’s heart fluttering beneath his fingertips, “and…” his other hand moves back to swirl against his swollen clit, “here.”
"Your fault," Satoru grunts as he angles his hips up into Suguru's again, directing him down into the deepest parts of himself as he pushes back in. "Fucking teasing basta– aaah!"
Suguru interrupts the insult as he hooks his hands behind Satoru’s knees, pulling him towards him and pushing his legs to the limits of his flexibility so his ankles are forced back on either side of his head, spreading him open and slamming in as deep as possible, bringing pleasure and pain in equal amounts as he presses himself against Satoru’s cervix. He laughs low in his throat at the sounds Satoru makes as he fucks him, and when he leans down as though to kiss him again he diverts his mouth, running the tip of his tongue across Satoru’s nipple before biting down hard, smirking against pale skin at the keening whine that slips past the other man’s lips as he does so.
“Ah don’t–” Satoru pants, his eyes wide and glassy as he looks down at Suguru, long dark hair spilling across his pale chest. “Don’t bite there–”
“How can I resist when you make such pretty sounds for me when I do?” Suguru murmurs but he acquiesces, returning his mouth to join with Satoru’s instead as he slips one hand between his legs.
This time Satoru comes almost instantly when Suguru begins to stroke his clit, the combination of sensation and the long drawn-out build-up too much to control, to contain any longer. Suguru doesn’t let up on his mouth as he recognises the familiar motions of his partner’s body, as Satoru clenches even tighter around him, as his whole body shakes, toes curling in his position folded in half whilst Suguru fucks him through it.
Even then Suguru doesn't stop, doesn’t move his hand away. In fact, he doubles down, pressing even harder, more insistently on Satoru’s clit as he continues to fuck him deep. Even when Satoru lets slip little cries for mercy into his mouth as their lips wrestle, even when his body shudders beneath him at the overstimulation and tears begin to form again in those big blue eyes, he doesn’t stop, enjoying the way Satoru writhes beneath him as he works his too-sensitive clit, as he slams against his cervix, as he–
As he comes too, far too quickly.
“Fuck,” he practically growls as he pumps deep inside Satoru, three long drawn-out thrusts as he empties himself into his partner. “You were squeezing me too tight babe.”
“I knew you wanted it just as bad as me.” Even in his miserable state, Satoru’s tongue still bites back.
“You think so?” Suguru purrs as he pulls out, smirking at how Satoru whines at the loss of pressure. He strokes Satoru’s damp cheek lovingly as he leans in to kiss him again, but his eyes are wicked when he speaks against his lips, “So you want more?”
Satoru doesn’t have time to respond before Suguru’s fingers are between his legs again.
“Fuck, Suguru–” It’s unclear if this is supposed to be encouragement or protest, but either way, Suguru isn’t stopping. He settles back between Satoru’s legs, pressing his fingers into his pussy and stretching him open, enjoying the view of his cum leaking out and onto the bedsheets, marking the other man as his own, inside and out.
When he presses his mouth to Satoru’s cunt, the whimpering begins again.
“Don’t– ahh–” Satoru groans deep in the back of his throat as Suguru’s tongue swirls over and around his clit, teasing him out till he twitches. It’s too soon since his last orgasm, but that’s exactly the point. Suguru knows Satoru’s body all too well, better than anyone, better than even his own, and he knows that if he doesn’t let up he can make Satoru come again and again and again, pleasure ripping through the sensitivity, each orgasm becoming more intense until Satoru is begging for mercy, begging for more, crying and drooling and on the verge of passing out as he takes Suguru’s dick the way only he can.
He tastes like warm honey, hot and sticky sweet as Suguru eats him out, his folds swollen and practically pulsing as he slides two fingers inside, not letting him get used to the absence of Suguru's body inside of his own.
Satoru’s hands are in his hair, pulling hard on his long dark strands, pressing Suguru’s mouth harder into him, as the room fills with gasps and moans and breathy little sighs. Sighs that turn to cries as Suguru moves his fingers in and out of his hole, aided by the remnants of his earlier ejaculate and Satoru’s sweet slick, adding another digit to fuck him three fingers deep now as he sucks his clit into his mouth and bites down gently.
"Nngh!" That gets a reaction, Satoru bucking his hips up into him, begging for more with his body even as his mouth protests, “Suguru please it's too much!!"
Suguru responds by moving his free hand to dance across the expanse of Satoru’s chest, skimming across soft pale skin until he finds an erect nipple and sets to work on it, pinching and twisting the pink nub roughly between his fingertips.
“I’m– I’m gonna–”
Suguru doesn’t need Satoru to tell him, he already knows. Even before his fingers tighten in his hair and he presses his hips up into his mouth and mewls his name over and over and over again. Suguru can taste it in him, the way his pussy flushes even hotter and his hole clenches around his fingers as his next orgasm rips through him, body arching off the bed, legs shaking, toes curling.
“Good boy,” Suguru speaks softly as he blows gently on Satoru’s swollen clit, the motion of cool breath against his burning skin making him groan deep in the back of his throat again.
He pulls back for a moment, giving Satoru a rare moment to catch his breath as he swings his legs over the side of the bed and removes the rest of his clothing. Trousers pooling on the floor and shirt pulled over his head.
When he turns back he can barely suppress the laugh that rumbles up his throat from his chest when he sees Satoru, trembling and panting and so wonderfully vulnerable. He’s rolled over onto his front and is trying to force his star-shot body to cooperate so he can crawl away, but the heady aftershocks of his orgasm are still firing through him and he doesn’t get far before Suguru turns, climbing back onto the bed and grabbing him by the ankles.
"No no, not done already are we? Not after how bad you wanted it earlier.” He’s erect again, the sight and scent of Satoru too much to resist as he drags him back towards him and grabs his hips tight, fingernails digging into the hollow of his hipbones.
“I can’t,” Satoru’s eyes are so wide and so unfocused as he looks back over his shoulder at Suguru, even as he willingly lifts his hips again as Suguru kneels between his legs, pulling him close and lining himself up with Satoru’s hot wet hole. Suguru pulls the other man's hips back so he’s kneeling on the bed, Satoru's cunt opening up before him like a precious gift. “I need a min– aah! ”
And he enters him again. He doesn’t give Satoru a second to adjust before he is moving, fisting a hand in his hair to pull his head back towards him, teeth scraping the line of his neck and tasting sweat sweet in his mouth, pooling on the white-haired man’s sharp shoulder where the kimono falls away.
“I wanna see those pretty eyes roll back in your head." Suguru hums in his ear as he begins a brutal rhythm, hips snapping and balls slapping against Satoru’s ass, the slick sound of skin-on-skin filling the room, punctuated by cries of pain and pleasure entwined.
“Aah–” Satoru pulls against the hand in his hair as he turns his face to Suguru’s, whimpering his name in time with the motions of him thrusting into him. “Su-gu-ru–”
"You asked for this doll, getting me all fired up whilst I was trying to work.” Suguru kisses him roughly, biting at his lips. “You think you can tease me and get away with it just like that? No, you knew exactly what would happen. So I'm gonna give it to you exactly like you wanted, my love. Going to make you come until you can’t speak, you can’t think, till you can't do anything but scream my name."
“Yes.” Satoru practically hisses, his eyelids fluttering open and closed around unfocused hazy blue eyes, mouth hanging open as Suguru holds him in place by his hair, his other hand on his hip pulling him back into his thrusts.
"Say it," Suguru commands as he snaps his hips into him, not letting up on his pace for a second.
"Suguru, fuck.” Satoru pants against his lips, tongue parting his own as he gasps hot breaths into his partner’s mouth. “I love you."
"I know baby." He purrs as he slides a hand around Satoru’s front, slipping between the mattress and his body until it finds its target. “Now let me feel you come for me again.”
Satoru’s hands scrabble uselessly in the sheets as Suguru strokes his clit, trailing the pads of his fingers around the throbbing nub until he feels that familiar clench, the cork coming out of the bottle faster, easier now, as his overstimulated body releases the pressure the only way it knows how.
“That’s it.” Suguru coos softly as Satoru wails against his mouth, eyes clenched shut. “How does it feel?”
“So–” Satoru chokes out his words as his body vibrates with the force buzzing inside of it, tearing him apart from his core as tears slide down his cheeks. “So good. You feel so good Suguru. You make me feel so good.”
“That’s it.” He grunts as he suddenly releases Satoru’s hair, and he falls forward with the loss of pressure. Then Suguru draws back onto his knees, pressing Satoru’s face down into the sheets for a moment as he almost tears the kimono from his body before sliding his arms around his waist and drawing him back, pulling him into his lap so they’re both upright now, Satoru’s legs clenching around his waist as his back presses into Suguru’s chest. Satoru’s hands come to rest on Suguru’s legs and he rakes his nails down the thick muscles of his thighs desperately, like he’s trying to tear him open and climb inside, just like Suguru is doing to him right now.
“Fuck,” Suguru hisses through his teeth as he bottoms out again at the change of position, “you’re really sucking me in. How are you still this tight?”
"I can't…" Satoru pants as he turns his face towards Suguru, tears running down his cheeks from wide eyes, blue turning black as his pupils blow out inside the iris. As his legs shake and his lips quiver. “... can't control it."
"You're trembling again,” Suguru murmurs as he licks the tears from Satoru’s cheeks, running his lips down the curve of his face to kiss at the soft skin of his neck. “Maybe I should’ve just fucked you like this on my lap back there, for everyone to see. See how you spread yourself open for me, how you take me so good, how fucking beautiful you look when I'm inside you. Do you want that? To show them how much you want me, how much you love me?”
“Yes!” Satoru pants as he moves his hips on top of Suguru, meeting his movements with the motion of his own, taking him as deep as he possibly can. “I want them to see, I want them all to know that you're mine, only mine. So everyone knows you belong to me.”
“That's right,” Suguru buries his face in his partner, biting down hard on the soft skin at the intersection of Satoru’s neck and shoulder and smirking against his skin at the yelp he lets out at the feeling of sharp teeth in plump flesh. “I'm yours.”
There’s a flicker of lucidity on Satoru’s face now as his eyes flash dangerously, as he curls his fingers in Suguru's hair to pull him from his neck and press their faces together again. As he growls against his mouth,
“Cause I'll kill anyone who touches you. So much as fucking looks at you the wrong way. Anyone who disrespects you. Or us.”
And Suguru chuckles,
“I know baby.”
And he kisses him, deep and dark. Satoru’s lips part so eagerly to meet him and he slides his tongue inside, tasting every inch of his mouth, his honey-sweet spit, as he drives his cock deep inside, as their eyes slip shut and the world melts away, leaving nothing but Satoru and Suguru and their familiar, frantic dance.
Because there's a secret not a lot of people know about the two of them. That the slender-waisted man who dresses in fine silk and drapes himself so delicately across Suguru's lap and follows him around like a little lost puppy, isn't the princess trapped in the tower after all. But rather a dragon guarding it.
Because there are rumours, that it wasn't actually Suguru who left that person's head floating in Tokyo Bay. But rather, the only man who can twist the boss around his little finger, who can tell him what to do.
And Suguru is the only man who can tame the dragon, as he makes him fall apart in his hands. The only one who can tell him what to do.
And that makes Suguru just as terrifying as Satoru.
The strongest, together.
And so the dance continues.
As he moves in his lap Suguru fucks two more orgasms into Satoru in quick succession, following through on his earlier promise. They come quickly now as his body adjusts, each one looking and sounding more intense and more painful and more wonderful than the last until – true to his word – Satoru can’t speak or think or do anything but babble Suguru’s name, can’t even complain about the overstimulation anymore, his words washed away as he cries out pathetic little whining moans, as he gives up on trying to hold his body together, melting into Suguru’s lap, into Suguru’s hands as they tease his nipples and stroke his pussy and slide up the sensitive skin of his inner thighs. Until the feeling of Suguru inside of him washes everything else away, just as the other man took him in his arms and cleansed the sins of his past, made him whole again. The only one who can take him like this, take him to the edge and hold him over the precipice until he begs to be released to the oblivion below. Soothing every ache and pain as he marks him with his own, breaking him to pieces just to put him back together, filling in the gaps of his broken body like silver kintsugi, making him whole and better and stronger and more beloved and more alive than ever before.
It goes like this until Suguru feels his own coil beginning to unravel again, as he starts to lose his grip inside his partner as Satoru’s abused cunt keeps sucking him in, as clingy as the man himself, and knows he can’t hold off his own end for much longer.
But, there’s still one promise he hasn’t yet kept.
“I wanna see those pretty eyes roll back in your head."
“Ah shit,” Suguru growls as he bucks his hips against his impending orgasm. “Not yet, not until you fucking lose it for me.”
Satoru’s heavy-lidded eyes go wide when Suguru shoves his fingers inside his mouth, pressing to the back of his throat and coating the digits in his drool, lubricating them to banish the threat of friction as Satoru groans around them. Then he sets them to work again, stroking his clit slowly at first then faster, more frantic. Wet desperate circles as he drives his cock inside from head to base, his other hand holding Satoru by the throat now as he lifts him on his lap, helping his exhausted hips in their movements as he fucks him like his life depends on it. Like both their lives do.
Which, sometimes, it feels like they might.
He digs his fingers into the hollows behind Satoru’s ears, palm pressing ever so slightly on his windpipe as he restricts the flow of blood, the movement of breath, and Satoru’s head begins to float off the ground, eyes half-closed and tongue hanging out as he pants, as sensation overwhelms him once more.
When it looks like he’s on the verge of passing out, Suguru releases the grip on Satoru’s neck just as he slams him back down onto his cock. Blue eyes go so wide as he snaps back to reality all of a sudden, as the spring inside his body snaps once more and this time – when he comes clenching and crying and screaming Suguru’s name – the blue turns white as his eyes roll back in his head and his entire body shudders, like someone on the verge of a seizure.
But Suguru knows this motion too.
“Suguru!” Satoru cries achingly as he feels it all come loose, as Suguru fills him and keeps rubbing his clit through it all, as he comes hard and warm and–
“That’s it, my love,” Suguru pants in his ear as he continues to rub Satoru’s clit even as he loses himself inside him too, the sensation of his hot cum flooding Satoru’s pussy tipping them both over the edge. “Let it all out for me.”
He kisses Satoru deeply as he drives his cock back in one final time, Satoru’s walls tighter than ever as if to protest the end of the dance, Satoru squirting over him as he rides out the waves of his orgasm on Suguru’s dick. Hot fluid gushing from him and over the other man, turning the sweat-damp bedsheets beneath them even more saturated than before.
“Good boy,” Suguru sighs softly against Satoru’s lips as he pulls out, his steady voice not betraying how hard his own heart is hammering in his chest, how he silently sympathises with Satoru’s whines as he withdraws from his ruined pussy, stretched and sore and stuffed so wonderfully full.
Suguru wraps his arms around Satoru as he falls back to lie on the bed, pulling the other man with him as their bodies curl together on top of damp sheets. His arms around Satoru’s heaving chest, he pulls him close, burying his face in his hair and breathing him in, tasting honey and sweat and sin and love and a thousand other things in the back of his throat.
“I hate you.” Satoru huffs, bottom lip protruding in a pout as he turns his face towards Suguru. And Suguru just snorts softly as he rubs their noses together, holding him tight.
“I love you too.” He murmurs as he presses soft, almost apologetic kisses to Satoru’s hair, his temple, his cheeks, his nose, his mouth. “Well, behave next time and I'll go easy on you.”
But they both know there's no chance of that. Even before Satoru purrs against his mouth, tongue flicking out to run across the swell of Suguru’s bottom lip.
"Make me."
"Whatever you want," Suguru's wicked grin practically splits his face, even as he presses another soft sweet kiss to Satoru's forehead. "Princess."