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When Suguru started working for the Gojo household he honestly thought he'd gotten over way too easily, but at thirty-eight, he'd had enough of juggling part-time gigs and working grueling hours just to barely scrape by every month. In comparison, folding and putting away linens in the Gojo estate felt like a walk in the park for the suspiciously generous paycheck he received every week, but he wasn't complaining.
When his coworkers warned him that the pay was so high because the Gojo heir was such a terror, Suguru didn't pay it any mind. Satoru-bochan was spoiled, but he was only seventeen. A supposed genius that spent all of his time holed up in his room studying, and Suguru was plenty used to teenage tantrums by now, having raised two daughters himself. Still, he kept his head on a swivel and minded his own while he cleaned bathrooms and changed unused guest room sheets.
Easy, honest work. Until he was sent to deliver the young household heir his new school uniforms one afternoon.
Summer was coming to a close and Suguru was preoccupied enough making sure Mimiko and Nanako's school transfers were squared away, their paid tuition an employee benefit Suguru was happy to take advantage of, but the approach of the new school year seemed to have all of the house staff on edge, for a reason entirely unknown to Suguru.
He was tempted to ask, but he was less tempted to test his luck. If he had to guess, it was that very disposition that landed him in his situation in the first place, knocking on Satoru-bochan's door and poking his head inside to ask if it was alright for him to come inside.
There was nothing to it. The white-haired teen had only side eyed him with a scowl and turned back around to the game he was playing on the computer that cost twice Suguru's rent. At least. But then a few days later he was asked to do it again. And then he was sent to turn down Satoru's bedding and call him down for meals.
It wasn't that Suguru minded, but it made it harder for him to get the rest of his tasks done. Once, he was in the middle of scrubbing floors when the head of house staff asked him to take Satoru's drycleaning up to him. Suguru gave the old woman a deadpan look and asked if she could have someone else do it instead since was—clearly—occupied.
"Satoru-bochan has forbidden everyone from attending to any chores regarding his room or belongings."
"So then why—"
"Everyone except for you."
Suguru only looked at her, hoping to be told it was just a joke, but when all he received in return was an expectant, arched brow, he heaved a sigh and abandoned the task at hand.
When he stopped outside the young master's bedroom, drycleaning still zipped up in garment bags and draped over his arm, Suguru knocked the same as he always did on the teen's door, and let himself inside when he heard the muffled invitation from the other side.
At first, he paid no mind to the boy at his desk, in the same spot he always was though the activity in front of him often changed. Some days he had his nose in a hefty book and other days he was laser focused on some video game or another, yelling into a headset.
Today he was watching something on his computer's large monitor, sitting up uncharacteristically straight in his expensive, high-backed chair. Suguru crossed the room to the closet and put the drycleaning away as quickly as possible. He thought about how annoying it was that he had been relegated to all Satoru related chores. Because what did this kid care, which staff member hung his clothes or fluffed his pillows or made sure his bath towels were in the warmer while he was downstairs scarfing down his dinner?
It wasn't as if he ever acknowledged or thanked any of them for making sure the toilet seat was sparkling every time he sat on it to take a shit. Suguru had half a mind to ask about it directly, which was the only reason he even noticed the porn playing on Satoru's monitor.
He didn't react at first. He couldn't react, brain still trying to process what his eyes were seeing, but right there on the 27-inch screen, muted by satoru's headphones, a dark haired woman was being folded up into a nearly impossible position and pounded into in full 4k.
Just as suguru's brain finally stopped short circuiting and the sense returned to him to hightail it the fuck out of there, Satoru turned to look at him with impassive, unreadable eyes.
Suguru only caught the very start of his smirk before briskly fleeing from the room.
There was no such incident the following day, or the day after that. In fact, an entire week passed with nothing out of ordinary. Suguru began to think it was truly just an accident, but then he was called to Satoru’s room to clean a spill in the carpet.
When he arrived, the red puddle on the floor almost looked like blood, and Satoru was standing next to it waiting for him.
"My mother can’t know,” the teen said, “so you need to clean it quickly.”
Suguru resisted the urge to sigh. The urge to throw his things down to the ground and quit right then and there. He couldn’t. He needed this job too badly. So he smiled at the stupid brat.
“Of course, Satoru-bochan. She’ll never know, I’ll just go grab the carpet cleaner.”
“No,” Satoru said. He pointed to a bucket full of soapy water on the floor. “Use that.”
Suguru stared at him. Satoru stared back. They did that for long enough that Suguru’s ears began to ring with agitation. He knew what Satoru was trying to do. He had no choice but to obey.
Suguru walked to the spill, knowing now that the mess had been made on purpose, and he dropped to his knees. It should have been humiliating, shameful, but Suguru had spent enough time cleaning this house that he was beyond that at this point. Still there was something demeaning about the way Satoru stood over him as he dunked the hard bristle brush into the bucket and began to scrub. And scrub and scrub and scrub. Until the space between his shoulder blades started to burn with exertion, along with his arms. Until his knees started to ache despite the luxurious plush of the carpet. He stopped to observe his progress, only to find that the red spill—juice, he’d realized somewhere along the line—had faded to a pink now, and still had a ways to go.
“Satoru-bocchan, it will clean quicker with carpet shampooer,” he said, turning to see Satoru already watching him, chair turned toward Suguru, elbow resting on the armrest and cheek propped up on his fist.
“You should scrub faster if you want to finish before your shift is over.”
The spark of indignation that flared in Suguru was intense but fleeting. He could see the challenge in the boy's eyes from across the room, daring Suguru to disobey. Which was ridiculous, because Suguru was a grown man and he had no business letting himself be bossed around by a boy young enough to be his son. But he needed this job. He would put up with it for now. Satoru would be returning to school soon, and he wouldn’t need to deal with this then.
It wasn’t until he turned back to the job at hand and started scrubbing, his entire body rocking with the motion, that the shame finally dawned on him, heat warming his face. Satoru was watching him. On his knees, bent over, shoulder blades bunched together and straining.
His ass sticking out.
Suguru stopped his scrubbing, eyes slipping closed with a sigh. In part to calm his nerves and in part to calm his anger.
“Satoru, this is inappropriate.”
“What do you mean?”
Suguru’s gaze cut to the young master in a glare, but Satoru only raised his brows in defiance. Enough was enough. Suguru stood and dropped the scrub brush into the bucket with a splash.
“This is inappropriate. I’ll send someone else up with the carpet shampooer.”
When he left, Satoru didn’t try to stop him.
He almost expected to be let go the next time he arrived at the Gojo household, but instead another week passed with no shenanigans.
After that, Suguru did his very best to avoid having to go back to Satoru's room. He kept his head low and completed his tasks quickly, flitting from room to room as to not get caught in one place for too long. It didn't work, of course.
The head of staff seemed to have eyes in the back of her head, or his coworkers were all tattling traitors. More than likely it was an unfortunate case of both. Either way, Suguru found himself in the young master's room again eventually.
Satoru seemed to be waiting for him. As soon as Suguru knocked and stepped inside, the boy pushed his books and notes aside and turned to face him.
"You're late," he said.
Suguru stared at him. He wasn't late. There was no set time he was supposed to come here and change the sheets or drop off the platter of afternoon snacks for a young man perfectly capable of walking to the kitchen on his own two legs.
Suguru said, "Apologies, Satoru-bochan—"
"I want to have sex."
The words nearly made Suguru choke on his own breath.
"Excuse me?" he demanded indignantly. Satoru looked away from him, chewing contemplatively on his bottom lip. There was a pinkness to his cheeks.
"My… friends at school all talk about it. I'm the only one who hasn't done it yet."
Suguru did not get paid enough for this.
"Satoru-bochan," he said, "there's no need to for you worry about that yet. When you're ready, it will be when you've found someone you like enough to—"
"No," Satoru said. "I want to have sex. With you."
"Excuse me?" Suguru asked again, and then shook his head, "Satoru, this is inappropriate. And not allowed."
"Then we better be sure no one finds out."
Suguru, at a loss for words, could only ask again, "Excuse me?"
"I need to practice. I want to know what it's like," Satoru said. And then, "If you don't, I'll make them fire you. And your daughters will have to go back to whatever shit hole of a school they were attending before my family started paying their tuition."
Suguru couldn't believe the audacity, the gall. He could only stare gobsmacked as his livelihood was threatened by a boy less than half his age. Only two years older than his own daughters. He thought of them now, how upset they would be if he forced them to change schools again. He thought about the grueling hours he'd have to work to make the same amount of money he made here. And then he thought about how ridiculous it was that he was even thinking about it.
Suguru opened his mouth to call the boy's bluff, but Satoru cut in again quickly, "And if you think you'll be able to find work anywhere within a thousand mile radius of here, think again."
Suguru stared evenly at him. "No one will believe you."
"Won't they?"
Suguru knew that they would. He could feel the last of his pride being snuffed out like fingertips pinching a burning candle wick. The weight of defeat made his shoulders sag.
Satoru smirked. "On the bed, then. Take your pants off."
Suguru's face burned. He weighed the options in his head once more, wondered if it would be worth it to test the wrath of rejection of a spoiled, wealthy teenager… and undid the button of his slacks. Pushed them down his hips and thighs and let them pool on the floor. He hesitated, then did the same with his underwear. Until his lower half was bare and on display as he slowly got on the bed.
On his hands and knees, his head hung low between his shoulders. He flinched when warm hands slid up the backs of his thighs, caressing the skin. They slid up until Satoru had two palmfuls of Suguru's ass. He squeezed the supple flesh, let it go to watch it bounce, and Suguru nearly bolted then. What would it make him, if he stayed here and let this happen? What choice did he have, when he knew the brat behind him would make good on his word?
It was as bad as he expected it to be. Satoru was too eager, impatient and rough as opened Suguru up but barely. Only two fingers and not enough lube. Suguru grit his teeth through the shoddy prep because he wanted it to be over quickly, bur regretted that when he felt the blunt, fleshy head of a cock against his hole. By then it was too late, and Satoru was pushing his way inside.
Suguru groaned into his arms, stomach flipping. The stretch was unexpected. It burned low in his back. His spine arched in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure, but it was insistent. The first thrust hurt, far too dry. It blurred Suguru's vision.
He winced when Satoru pulled out unexpectedly, asshole clenching down on the sudden emptiness.
"Teach me," Satoru said, eyes staring down at Suguru's naked lower half.
"What?"
"Teach me how to make it good for you, too," the boy said, "that's part of sex, right? It's supposed to feel good for everyone involved. But you aren't even hard yet, so teach me."
Suguru didn't know how he was supposed to explain that he probably wasn't going to get hard. For a multitude of reasons. Getting fucked by his kid boss might have been the unsexiest thing ever, for starters. Not to mention that Suguru already struggled with his sexual appetite on any other given day.
He sighed, glanced over his shoulder. Satoru was standing at the edge of the bed, fully dressed except he'd opened his pants enough to pull his cock out. Which looked as big as it felt, hanging heavy and flushed a deep pink.
He really, really did not get paid enough for this.
"First, slow down. You can't just shove that thing anywhere you want. I don't get wet like a woman would, so use more lube. And warm it up like this."
Suguru took the bottle of lube—brand new—and wet his own fingers, warming it in his palm first. Then he spread his knees a bit more, huffing away his own embarrassment at exposing himself so wantonly on the bed.
Satoru sat back down in his desk chair and rolled it over for a front row view as Suguru circled his rim with a finger and slowly pushed it in. He pumped the digit slowly, in and out, and quickly added a second. Satoru being so… well endowed had certainly sped the process along, but for the sake of being a good teacher, Suguru didn't skip any steps. He scissored his two fingers, slowly stretching the taut muscle of his ass, and found himself watching Satoru watch him. His blue eyes were intent on the place where Suguru was working himself open, his teeth worrying at his lower lip and his hands clenching and unclenching the fabric of his pants, fly open and his cock flushed pink and twitching every time Suguru spread his hole enough to see his pink insides.
"Another one?" Satoru asked when Suguru pressed the pad of his ring finger against his rim and began to push it in alongside the other two digits.
"Yes," Suguru answered, ignoring the windy thinness of his own voice. "Sometimes four, if they need it. Or five, if they want."
Satoru moaned, unable to hold off anymore and wrapping a fist around himself. "Yeah, wanna fist you so bad, actually."
Suguru looked away then. Focused on stretching himself open. He was methodical but impatient with it; wanted this to be over as quickly as possibly.
But it'd also been a while since he'd had sex; he wanted to minimize any potential soreness.
"You have to take your time," he said. Licked his lips. "Between each finger. Spread them and— and curl them. Start making space inside."
He heard the wheels of Satoru's chair rolling across the floor, felt Satoru's warm, damp palms spreading his thighs even wider.
"Let me do it," the teen said. Suguru's breath hitched. He blinked his eyes open and was surprised by the intense seriousness of Satoru's gaze when he looked back. The high flush in his cheeks. The color made his eyes seem brighter, clearer. "You can tell me what I'm doing wrong that way."
Suguru was nearly tempted to tell him to just put it in and get it over with, but Satoru's hands were so large on the back of his thighs, his fingers longer and thicker than Suguru's own, and he found himself nodding instead.
He removed his fingers and lowered onto the sheets until he was laying on his stomach and could pillow his head with his arms.
"It's easier like this," Suguru said, though he mostly just didn't want Satoru to be able to see his face. He glanced over his shoulder briefly to add, "you can start with two, it's okay."
Two of Satoru's fingers felt no different than three of his own. It felt better, actually. Fuller, deeper. Suguru had to force himself to stay still on the bed, swallowing thickly as his body began to relax against the ridiculously comfortable mattress.
Satoru added a third finger before he started exploring. Between the lube that Suguru had fucked himself with and the lube that Satoru added to his own fingers, Suguru's ass was wet and loose by the time Satoru started crooking his fingers and massaging the soft pads of them against Suguru's walls. When his hips started involuntarily rutting against the bed, Satoru quickly removed his fingers and with rough, impatient hands he flipped Suguru over onto his back. They both looked down to Suguru's newly hard cock, flagging just slightly, but undeniably aroused.
"That means I can put it in now?"
Right. That part.
"Yes. But don't— don't just shove it in."
When an eagerness that Suguru would find charming in any other scenario, Satoru crowded over him on the bed, fitting himself between Suguru's legs and holding himself at the base before he started to push inside.
Suguru's body gave into it much more easily this time, but still Satoru went slowly. It was an agonizing, restless silence but just when Suguru was starting to think Satoru couldn't possibly have anymore cock to feed into him, the younger's boys hips pressed flush against Suguru's ass.
"Fuck," Satoru huffed. He was holding Suguru tightly at the waist, Suguru's legs wrapping around his middle because there was no where else for them to go. "I thought all the fingers were supposed to loosen you up."
He started to pull his hips back but Suguru reached out lightning quick to stop him. He gripped Satoru's arm hard enough to bruise.
"Wait! Wait, just…" he could feel his ass clenching and unclenching around the girth filling him up, his body trying to adjust to a feeling he'd nearly forgotten. It was so much more intense than he'd expected, than he thought it could be.
His thighs were already shaking, his breaths then and uneven.
"Okay," he whispered eventually. "Okay you can move now."
When he did it was a slow, shallow thrust. The push and pull of Suguru's insides, the drag of Satoru's cock against his walls. It was ridiculous. Satoru pulled out again, more, and punched back inside in a way that made Suguru arch, head falling back against the bed.
"Oh," he moaned and Satoru lit up, testing the angle with another roll of his hips and then doubling down on that spot inside of Suguru when it made his eyes roll and his fingers curl into the sheets.
Suguru closed his eyes because he couldn't hide his face, bit his lips raw trying to muffle the sounds that he couldn't keep control of. Every piston of Satoru's hips punched noise from Suguru's chest. Cut off moans and watery whines. Suguru tried to cover them by pressing his own palm over his mouth, but Satoru grabbed his wrists and held them against the bed. Suguru turned his head to the side, not wanting to give his pleasure away, but he couldn't stop his body's reaction. It felt good. Better than it should have.
Better than it had felt in a very, very long time. His eyes were wet as fiery hot shame flooded his cheeks.
"I want to hear you," Satoru grunted. "How else am I supposed to learn? You're supposed to be teaching me, remember? Fuck—"
Satoru's hips faltered. He was panting above Suguru, watching him intently. Sweat was beginning to dampen the hair at his temples. Suguru want him to come. He closed his eyes and rolled his hips and Satoru cursed. When he tried to slow down Suguru didn't let him. He dug his heel into the teen's tailbone and pulled him in, the fat of Suguru's ass bouncing with every smack of skin.
There was plenty of lube now, and the smooth slide against Suguru's rim felt so good he was going to come. But not before Satoru. He would be damned if he came before Satoru.
Satoru laughed, and before Suguru could wonder why he was empty again. Then he was on his stomach, the room spinning as his ass was hiked up and his face was being pushed down into the mattress and Satoru was propping his foot onto the bed to drive harder into Suguru. The new angle made him shout.
His hands flexed and scrabbled on the bed in search of something to hold onto. His vision blurred.
"Satoru— slow down—"
"Are you close? I want to feel you come while I'm inside you."
In the end, that's all it took. Suguru couldn't hold it anymore. His cock kicked, smacking against his stomach, and then he was coming—untouched—with a wrung out sound, writhing against the bed as his orgasm took him. His ass clenched down onto Satoru and it was hardly thirty more seconds before the young heir was coming as well, deep inside of Suguru.
Suguru should have scolded him for it, but he was lost in a delirious haze. In disbelief that someone so inexperienced could make him feel like that.
When Satoru pulled out, Suguru could feel the come leaking from his hole. He wanted to curl up and hide, he needed to get dressed quickly.
Had anyone heard? How loud had they actually been?
Satoru's hands gripped his hips and pushed him onto his side. Then his cock was back inside of Suguru before Suguru could question it. He gasped, oversensitive, and reached back to try and push the eager teen away.
"I want to try again," Satoru said, slapping Suguru's hands away and shoving himself inside as if he hadn't stopped at all. Fucking his load back inside of Suguru.
Suguru grit has teeth and shivered. Because it still felt good. No matter how much he willed it not to, it felt good. There was no checking out when it felt that good, so he felt everything. Drunk on the shame and humiliation, he counted each time and thought—each time, foolishly—that it would be the last.
He came the second time like that, with Satoru's hand curled into the bend of his knee to push it up towards his chest. And then Satoru pushed him over onto his back and made him come again in missionary, those wide blue eyes drinking in every twitch of Suguru's face. He arranged Suguru's body into positions that would hurt the next day, the ache in his muscles already present. But Suguru was loose limbed from pleasure, pliable as he came a fourth time with his knees on either side of his head.
When it was over, Suguru could hardly move. He had no clue how he was going to stand up and walk to the bathroom, let alone dress himself and commute home.
He did it slowly, his body aching. Satoru watched him the whole time, finally spent himself.
When Suguru was limping towards the door Satoru said, "Tomorrow, again. Don't be late this time. Sensei."
Suguru could hear the smirk in his voice, but all he could say on his way out was, "Of course, Satoru-bochan."