fantasy is reality

It all gets to be disorienting after a while. The glitz and glam of stardom is a double-edged sword–with all of the lights trained on you, you shine, but you can only stand to be in the glare for so long before you begin to wear out.

Tours, concerts, award shows, interviews, recording in the studio, filming music videos, photoshoots, brand deals and promotions–you are always busy. There’s no time for a personal life, no time for friends, family, or love. Which, in hindsight, is well and good since your label has you under a no-dating contract until it renews in a year. No time, no temptation, right?

Wrong. 

Hiromi came into your life soon after your group finally saw major success with the song you’d dropped last year. With more demand, there came more fans, and the greater need for protection for you and your groupmates. Enter Hiromi.

He was hired on as part of the new protection detail, assigned specifically to you. Your first impression of him was that he was hot, but a bit dull. He was quiet most of the time, doing his job dutifully, taking care of you and catering to your needs. He went above and beyond for you, and he made your life a lot easier. When asked why he put so much effort in, he’d told you two things: that he’s simply a hard worker, and that he’d feel bad watching you go about life so overwhelmed when he could help. You slowly warmed up to him that way.

Five months after he was hired, you two wound up alone in your hotel room in Milan, sipping wine on the balcony of the suite and talking. The rest of the girls were out clubbing, but you hung back. Clubbing was never really your thing. Since you didn’t go, Hiromi stayed as well, and wanting you to still enjoy the night, he ordered wine on his personal card and poured two glasses.

Tipsy and loose-lipped, confessions and deep, dark secrets were shared. It wasn’t long after that the two of you wound up hooking up. The morning after, an arrangement was made. You’d be each other’s dirty little secret, and seek each other out whenever you needed. No strings, no labels. Seven months pass, the two of you operating normally to the world, undoing each other only behind closed doors.

Tonight, as you leave the premier of a movie you’d sung a song for the first time as a solo act, Hiromi ushers you through the tight line of paparazzi and eager fans, his strong hand on your waist, other arm out to clear the way. 

The fabric of your dress is thin tonight and you can feel the warmth of his palm through it. You can’t help but look at him as he protects you, a rush of arousal taking over you as he pulls you a little closer when someone gets too close.

He hurriedly gets you to the limousine, making quick work of closing the door behind himself once he gets in behind you. The door locks, and you glance up at the driver’s seat, only to see that the privacy window is shut. Effectively, the two of you are alone. You barely even register that the vehicle begins to drive off–your mind only has one thought.

Hiromi has just shucked off his blazer when you grab him by the jaw, pulling him in for a needy kiss. He tenses for a split second before reading the room and placing his hands on your hips, tugging your body gently but firmly so that you have no choice but to straddle his lap. 

Once that’s done, he grabs your face in his big hands, cupping it gingerly in the careful way he always does, pushing his tongue into your mouth. A moan escapes your throat, and chasing it, one of his thumbs runs over the column of your neck, causing you to part your lips for air. He shamelessly licks his way into your mouth again, tongue swiping over yours dirtily. It makes you shudder, and he kisses your open cavern insistently, caressing his way down your neck to your shoulders.

The straps of your dress slink down your arms, breasts sliding into view, and he leaves a trail of wet kisses down your chin, softly devouring the skin of your neck on the way to his destination. The second his lips close around an erect nipple, his hands find your thighs, hiking up the skirt of your dress. He grabs your ass and pulls you closer, lining the tent in his slacks up with what should be the front of your panties–but is the bare, sensitive flesh of your mound instead.

He looks up at you, nose flushed from the assault on your breast, lips swollen and slick too. “You weren’t wearing panties the whole night?”

You look him in the eyes hotly and nod. “Since we were coming alone together…”

“Fuck,” He breathes, snaking his right hand up further to brush his thumb over your clit. You bite your lip, grinding against that and his clothed dick, eliciting a forceful exhale from him. He buries is face back in your chest, tongue lavishing attention on the peak of your soft flesh while his fingers slide over the increasing pool of wetness between your legs.

Your eyes look over him for a moment, regarding how unfocused his lidded eyes are, how tight his suit fits him, how good he looks beneath you…

In the next moment, you’re shifting to undo the buckle of his belt. There’s something there that you want in your mouth immediately despite all of the stimulation he had been showering you with. 

It slides open and you quickly unhook the front of his pants and pull the zipper down, getting off of him to instead drape yourself belly-down over the backseat, pulling his cock out of its confines of his boxers and slacks to stand in its full thick, stiff glory. 

As soon as it’s out, he draws in a deep breath, watching as you get to work and run your tongue along the length from base to tip.

Your lips kiss the head, looking up at him through your lashes, and he sighs shakily, reaching down to hold your hair out of the way for you. With that, you part your lips and take him in, unable to get the whole length but trying your hardest to stretch around his girth to fit as much as you can.

He groans, head falling back, and you begin to suck, tongue running along the veins you can feel as you pull off, then slide back down. It doesn’t take long for you to start drooling on it—but you pay it no mind. Over the course of your arrangement you’ve learned Hiromi likes it sloppy and wet. 

You haven’t even noticed he’s let his other hand wander behind you until you feel his palm on your ass, pushing your dress up once again so it bunches around your waist, bare ass exposed.

Two of his long fingers make their way between your legs soon after, entering your wet heat as soon as they find it. 

“Mmh,” a moan escapes you, and you press your hips back onto him, focus split between his cock in your mouth and fingers inside you. Because of that, the blow job you’ve been giving him turns even more messy, your lipstick smearing over your face as his shaft slips out and slides across your cheek instead. You tighten around him as your tongue chases it, eyes meeting his again.

“So beautiful,” he praises, looking at you with utmost desire. You give another peck to his dick, sticking your tongue out and jerking it with your hand as you let it circle the tip. “Oh, fuck…”

He drives his fingers in and out faster, reaching deep inside you, and you mewl, concentration knocked aside. “Hiromi…”

He sees you starting to lose your grip and pulls his fingers out, soothing your hair back with the hand that was holding it away. 

“Up on my lap.”

As if tugged by invisible strings, you do as he instructs, straddling his lap again and watching as he licks your essence from his digits with his long tongue. He smiles softly at you. 

“Tastes amazing, as always.”

An involuntary blush breaks out over your face, and he chuckles, grabbing you by the thighs and pushing your dress up again so he can see what he’s doing.

He grabs his spit-soaked shaft and rubs it against your center a few times before it catches, pushing it inside of you. Your head falls back as you sit down on it, the depths of you finally filled with his delicious size. 

“Hiromi,” is what you breathe out, and he takes your hips in his hands, beginning to guide your movements on him. As soon as he starts a pace, rhythmically gliding in and out of you, the moans start tumbling out like cheap, wanton porn.

You don’t care that the driver can probably hear you over the traffic outside; Hiromi feels entirely too good for you to give a single fuck. You start grinding in time with him, body moving sinfully on top of his, and he groans low in his throat, leaning forward and kissing your neck as you continue. 

“So pretty,” He murmurs, thrusting his hips up to meet you on the way down, reaching deeper inside.

“Oh god,” You moan, digging your nails into his shoulders. “Mmh, Hiromi…”

The two of you barely notice the steady slows, accelerations, and turns of the car. You’re lost in a heady world of pleasure, taking and giving in a sinful dance of up and down, up and down. 

It’s always like this, every time you fuck Hiromi. He takes control and makes you take whatever he wants to give you, but never in a demanding way. He touches you like you’re something delicate, something to preserve, and it feels so good, you wonder if when you find someone to date in the future, it could get any better than this.

Right now, in Hiromi’s lap, bouncing on his thick cock, you think to yourself that there is nowhere you’d rather be. Your eyes scan over him, taking in the flush on his face, the concentrated furrow of his brow and twist of his lips, the way his muscles strain through his tight dress shirt…fuck, Hiromi is hot.

Your company really accidentally served him to you on a platter.

His thumb finds your clit and he speeds the pace of his hips up, slamming into you at a heightened intensity. 

“Oh,” You mewl, feeling the coil within you wind up tightly “Oh, god…”

“That’s it,” He breathes, eyes running over your face, down your body to where he’s entering you over and over, then back up. “Focus on it…”

“Ah,” You gasp, “M’close, Hiromi…”

“I’m right behind you,” His voice is deep and guttural, strained with impending release, “Where do you want it?”

Your body trembles with the question. “Inside, inside…”

You feel a kiss on your neck as a reply, and he pushes you down so hard, stuffing you full with the entirety of his length, that it punches your orgasm right out of you.

“Ohmygod!” It comes out strung together as your head falls back. “Hiromi!”

He sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth as he cums, groaning low in his throat and pressing his forehead to the underside of your jaw as he paints your walls a translucent white. The deep, shuddering breaths of his alone are hot enough to prolong your pleasure.

You’re pressed down on him, locked tightly, both of your sexes throbbing with aftershocks. 

Soft kisses litter your collarbone as he regains composure, his rigid breaths starting to even out. 

“Did that movie turn you on that much?” He asks, softly joking, and you grin.

“Mmm mmm,” You shake your head, running your hand down his chest. “That was all you. I had trouble keeping my hands off of you during the movie.”

“That would have been a scene,” He murmurs, running his thumb over your cheek. “But if you had wanted me to touch you…I would have had trouble saying ‘no’.”

“Evidently,” You giggle, looking around at the interior of the limo. “Pretty sure the driver got an earful.”

You two share a short laugh before sobering up. There’s a beat of silence, an intense eye contact, and softly, you add, “It’s really late…you should just stay at my place for the night.”

It’s something you’ve never asked him to do before. There’s a line and that’s definitely crossing it, he’s just the man you go to for release, but still…you want him to agree.

His eyes consider you for a moment, a storm within his eyes as he weighs the undoubted small list of pros against the heaps of cons. 

“I…I shouldn’t,” He says, and your face must immediately deflate, because he adds, “But…alright.”

It makes you happier than you were expecting, and he mirrors the smile on your face, leaning in and kissing you softly.

Sharing a bed with him wasn’t the plan, but somehow…it just feels right. The promise of his warmth beside you, of his arms around you, holding you through the night…

When your heart stutters at the thought, you realize that maybe you’re in too deep. But one look into your bodyguard’s eyes is all it takes for you to understand that you may not be alone in that line of thinking. 

Consequences can wait. For now…you'll take everything he can give. The future implications are a problem for another day.

___

The next morning had gone completely normally. You had woken up with Choso, shared your usual morning kiss, then got ready for the day beside him. You’d had breakfast, your normal conversations, and when he had to go to meet with the band, you had kissed him goodbye and exchanged your ‘I love you’s with him.

It’s when you’re going about your normal day just after you’ve had lunch that you receive a phone call.

Suguru. 

He’s never called you before. Choso should be with him–did something happen?

Hurriedly, you accept the call. “Hello?”

“Hey,” Suguru’s buttery voice comes through the speaker casually, and it disarms you from any immediate threats.

“Hey,” You reply, sitting back. “Is everything okay?”

“What, I can’t just call you?” Suguru chuckles on the other end, the sound rattling around inside of you like a marble in a glass jar. You hear a sigh. “Well, I did call you for a reason.”

“Yeah? What is it?”

“He told me about everything,” Suguru says, and your suspicions are confirmed. “He told me about that dream you had of me–which we’ll come back to–then the conversation you had afterwards. You told him all about us, it seems.”

You draw in a breath. “Yes, I-I did…”

“And he told me he wasn’t as upset as he thought he’d be. He felt a little uncomfortable, but then because it’s me, he said it didn’t bother him. Apparently the two of us showing restraint is what let him come to the conclusion to trust us…and let us explore things together.”

You’re worrying your lip so hard between your teeth as you listen that a layer of skin is peeling off. “Yeah…he…he did say that.”

“So…he’s given us his permission,” Suguru states slowly. “On his conditions, of course.”

You know what Suguru is getting at, but there’s just something inside of you reluctant to lean into it. Maybe it’s Choso’s reaction, his patience and unconditional love, or the way the two of you made love the night before. But guilt is killing you. 

“I…” You begin, “Suguru…I don’t think I can do it.”

A beat. Then, a sigh. “...it’s because you feel like you’re taking advantage of him, right?”

“Well, yes…it just doesn’t feel right. He said we could, but what kind of loving girlfriend sleeps with her boyfriend’s bandmate?”

“I understand,” replies Suguru, “I feel the same. It’s like exploiting his kindness, isn’t it?”

“Y-yeah, exactly…”

“So, we won’t, then.”

It sounds like a question, even though it’s a statement. “We shouldn’t.”

An unanswer. The two of you are pushing and pulling again.

“Hey, my smoke break is almost over, so I have to go back in. I’ll text you later.”

A part of you is disappointed when he says it. You don’t want to say goodbye yet. You like having him there on the phone.

“Okay,” You respond softly.

“Okay.” 

The call ends, and you put your head in your hands.

What on Earth is your life?

_

Nothing happens for the next four weeks. You don’t see him at all, but he does make it a point to call and text you consistently. Despite not acting on your desires, you grow closer with Suguru over text and phone calls, and if nothing else, he becomes a good friend of yours. 

You and Choso have no issues, and life continues on. You don’t sleep with Suguru, you force yourself not to think of him in any sort of sexual way, and you make peace with it.

Everything is fine up until the release party for the album they had been working on, and recently just completed.

You got done up in makeup, styled your hair, put on a dress suited for the occasion, and went with Choso to Suguru’s place where he’s holding it.

On the way there, you tell yourself nothing will happen. You haven’t reached out to him, asking to see him, you haven’t had another dream, and your thoughts of him have remained innocent. You have your mind in order.

All of that goes to hell immediately when you lay your gaze on Suguru, the moment after you set foot in the house.

He’s there in black jeans and an equally black tank-top, sinfully tight and leaving nothing to the imagination. It’s like he wore that just to remind you of everything that you’ve been lusting after; his bulging muscles, the piercings adorning the centers of his two pecs, the tattoos undulating over his pale skin…and that’s just his body. His face…god, his face.

His inky midnight hair falls in thick tresses down his shoulders, framing a face painters would vy for. Piercings and thick liner rimming his eyes, he’s the closest thing to a rock god you have ever seen.

“Hey,” He greets you, and you think maybe he’s already said ‘hello’ to Choso but you aren’t sure. You muster up a smile, trying your best to salvage your resolve.

“Hi.”

His gaze lingers on you for a moment as Choso moves in to set his guitar up with the rest of the band’s cozy set-up in Suguru’s spacious living room.

“You look breathtaking,” He tells you, a softness in his eyes that only serves to complicate you. 

“So do you,” You say, gesturing to him. He just shrugs, and it seems like his golden gaze pierces through you. You both know what you decided on, but right now the air between you is electric.

All it takes is a glance at the opposite corner of the living room to see Choso’s eyes on you, and you suddenly feel as if you’ve been caught doing something wrong. You flit your gaze back to Suguru for a second, apologetic, before making your way into the house.

After that, it’s sweet, sweet torture. 

You feel like you’re on high alert the entire soundcheck. You participate as well as you can in assisting with providing the audience perspective, but you’re so focused on acting normal that you can barely remember anything. 

The same goes for the actual release performance. You’d greeted all of Choso’s brothers when they’d arrived, then found your seat at the front of the small folding-chair arrangement, and then fought your way through normal reactions to each song.

You’d heard them all before, as Choso had both played them for you on his phone and practiced them with his guitar, but watching them all put together live with mood lighting, the band all dressed-up…it’s electric.

Between Choso and Suguru, your eyes are feasting. Two gorgeous men, performing, letting their lined gazes gravitate towards you, twin spotlights.

When the set finishes, the after party starts, and you stand up, Choso welcoming you into his arms and giving you a deep kiss as Larue begins to spin the first round of music. 

“You did amazing,” You tell your boyfriend, smiling up at him. “This album is gonna be so successful.”

He smiles down at you, leaning in to press another kiss to your lips. “You’ve supported me this whole time. I’m so grateful to you.”

Your hand moves to cup his cheek, and you sigh appreciatively. His chocolate locks pulled up into his signature spiky buns, eyes smoked out with purple and lined with unique markings that touch his nose bridge tattoo, the gentle tenderness in his stare…you just adore him.

“You’re precious to me,” You tell him, speaking from the heart, and you can see the light inside of him brighten a bit.

“I love you.”

He gets your heart to pound even now. “I love you too.”

“Choso!”

The sound of his youngest brother’s voice calling out to him pulls you two out of your little bubble, and you turn to see Yuji walking towards you, his other brothers in tow. 

“That was awesome, man!” Yuji says, clapping him on the back. “You gotta introduce us to the band!”

Choso looks at you, unsure to leave you alone at a party full of strangers. You know how important his brothers are to him, so you simply shake your head with a smile. “Go ahead. I’ll be fine, baby.”

He gives you a thankful grin, kissing your cheek before leading the mob of his brothers off to Larue first since he’s the closest.

Bass heavy music fills the mood-lit space of his living room, music executives, other artists, models, whoever Suguru and the rest of the band know fill it with their intoxicated, sweaty bodies. You move to the bar of Suguru’s kitchen, overlooking the living room, deciding to fix yourself a drink to pass the time.

You’ve drunk exactly half of your solo cup when it happens.

Your eyes are dusting over the crowd uninterestedly until they catch on a familiar frame.

Suguru. He’s talking with a woman, a slender, tall figure that must be a model he knows somehow. His hand is on the wall beside her, leaning over her, a loose grin on her flawless face–and immediately an unbridled jealousy wells up inside of you without your permission.

As soon as the sharp negativity registers, Suguru chooses that exact moment to find your gaze with his own. The charming smile he had on his face fades, and you don’t know why, but you feel enraged.

It’s a muddy, red feeling, completely unfounded, shame tinging it dark. But it’s yours, and the longer you stare at him the heavier it feels.

Unable to look at him with another woman any longer, you turn on your heel and head straight for the only place you know you can be alone in this big house–the bathroom.

You’ve just pushed the door open to the empty room when you hear him call to you.

You whirl around, and that’s when he backs you in, shutting the door behind you. The only light in the small room is reflecting from the frosted window at the other end, streetlight outside and the Moon casting a dim glow.

“You’re upset,” Suguru says, hand on your cheek. You avert your eyes, pushing his hand off of you.

“You’re not mine, I have no right to be,” it comes out cold and uneven. “Go back, she’s probably wondering where you went.”

“Forget her, I don’t want her,” He forces your gaze back to him. “I want you.”

The dense air is ripe with stillness. You can’t even hear the loud music outside anymore. Your eyes are locked with Suguru’s, and you know you’re screwed.

He pulls you in and ducks down, beginning to leave feverish kisses over your neck.

“I want you so fucking much,” He breathes, heat fanning over your skin and making you shiver. He looks up at you and leans in real close, the tips of your noses touching. “It’s taking everything in my power not to kiss you right now.”

Involuntarily, your eyes flit down to his lips, and he exhales shakily, closing his eyes and brushing them faintly against yours. You turn your face away.

“We can’t.”

He makes a noise in the back of his throat and tightens his hold on you, dragging his teeth over the skin just under your ear. 

“I know we said we wouldn’t,” He replies, “But I can’t do it, I can’t resist you knowing that I can have you like this…”

“I don’t want to hurt him. I love him.” Your resolve is wavering.

“I know,” Suguru murmurs, “He knows, too. Just let yourself have this. Let me do this.”

You swallow hard, a sigh leaving your lips as he trails wet kisses down to your collarbone. 

“Let me,” He says, “You want this. You want me.”

You lean back against the counter, hands on the edge as he keeps going further down, this time undeterred by your dress and its neckline.

His lips find the top of your breast, and he looks up at you.

“Tell me to stop.”

Those words can’t even begin to take form on your tongue.

This time, he repeats it in a whisper. “Tell me to stop.”

Fuck it. You can’t stand this anymore.

“No.”

“Then I won’t.”

He pushes the top of your dress unimportantly out of the way, exposing the rest of the soft flesh of your chest. 

He eyes your breasts with desire before looking up at you, making sure you’re watching him before parting his lips and swiping his tongue out, letting the bead of his piercing catch on your stiff peak. 

You gasp, and his lips turn up at the corners. Then he does it again. His thumb rubs the one not getting worked by his mouth, and you watch as he flutters his tongue over the bud, closing his lips around it and sucking.

“Ah,” You moan, head falling back. “Suguru…”

“Yes,” He breathes, “I’ve waited so long to hear that, fuck, you are so beautiful.”

You bite your lip as he praises you, arching your back as he continues to devour you. It’s a sinful scene, something so hazy you feel like if you move a certain way you’ll wake from a dream. The little shocks of pleasure undulating down from your peaks start to build heat in your core, wetness pooling in the lace underneath the skirt of your dress.

The bumping of the music outside of the bathroom only adds to the heavy atmosphere, so loud it vibrates the counter behind you, and you have to actually take a moment to realize that Suguru’s lips have started traveling further down your body. Right over the fabric of your dress, he kisses a line as he gets to his knees, leveling himself with your thighs. He looks up at you with those pretty, golden eyes, a translucent midnight in the dim lighting of the moon, rimmed with eyeliner, and he presses a peck to your knee, palms caressing the skin at the hem of your dress.

You can only watch him do it, watch him start littering your skin with kisses, taking your left leg and hiking it over his shoulder to get further up your thighs.

Each brush of his metal-adorned lips has you moving closer to insanity. Little flowers of pleasure bloom every time he sucks a mark and pulls away, the skin tenderized and wet with saliva. The feeling of his hot mouth getting closer and closer to the spot that hungers the most for him intensifies, and soon enough, he pushes your dress up far enough to get it around your hips and out of his way. Panties on display, he locks eyes with you and rubs the skin of your inner thigh slowly, pressing his lips to the dip right beside your apex. You tense, and he grins, flicking his tongue out to run it over the skin there. 

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” He murmurs, eyes flitting down, then up again. “Right here is where I want to be…”

You swear your heart may give out. You’ve fantasized so much about this moment, and now that it’s happening, you don’t know what to do with yourself. You’re sure any second you’re going to combust. 

“I wish you could see your face,” He grins, looking at you with an amused smile. “You want it bad…”

Taking a breath, you try to get a grip to respond. The best you can manage is, “I’m not the only one.”

He chuckles low in his throat, syrupy and rich, and then parts his lips to drag his tongue over the front of your panties.

“Ah!” You gasp, the unexpected movement catching you by surprise. All Suguru does is do it again, this time drawing circles into the fabric with the stud in his tongue, your clothed clit throbbing in delight.

He closes his lips around it, sucking before tilting his head down, rubbing the tip of his nose against the bud.

You shiver, a hand threading into his hair. “Suguru…”

“Keep making those noises for me,” He breathes, kissing the front of your panties a few times, then swirling his tongue around your clothed pearl again. The added friction of the fabric heightens your pleasure, and you feel it getting soaked, a combination of your arousal and his spit. The thought alone furthers your desire.

He adds more pressure on his next lick, and it has you twitching, a soft whimper leaving your lips. He repeats the movement over and over and over again until your breath is hitched and uneven, little moans tumbling freely from your voice.

“Suguru,” You finally warn, “I’m gonna cum…”

“Cum,” He replies, “Cum on my tongue, baby.”

“Ah!” You cry out, the pet name hitting your senses right in their vital points, orgasm sweeping through you like a vengeful spirit claiming its latest victim. He helps you ride it out, keeping his tongue on you until your body begins to relax.

“You’re gorgeous when you cum,” He compliments breathlessly, and you huff in embarrassment. 

“Am I really?”

“Yeah,” He nods, gazing at you with blown pupils. “I want to see it again.”

Faster than you can comprehend, he’s hooking your sopping panties out of the way, taking your bare cunt into his mouth.

The sensitivity overwhelms you and you gasp, biting your lip. “Suguru…I-I already came…”

“You can do it again,” He replies, flicking his tongue over the swollen bud at the top of your folds. “Come on, just focus on the feeling…”

It’s a dull yet sharp sort of pain, a kind you discover you like, and you moan as he relentlessly pursues your pleasure, squirming in the vice grip he has on your hips, no doubt destined to bruise. The thought of the shape of his hands branded into your skin tomorrow, ingrained in a phantom ache…it makes your core pulse with need.

He groans, dragging his right hand down your leg, the cool, hard sensation of his rings making you suck your lip between your teeth. 

Then, you feel two thick, rough fingers entering you, jewelry and all.

“Oh god,” it comes out desperate and sort of broken, because Suguru is fingering you now, using the beautiful hand he strokes his bass guitar with, and for fuck’s sake he really knows how to use them.

He’s folded the three fingers he’s not using to aim better with the two inside, curling them upwards to prod at the magic spot within you as he sucks hard on your clit.

Your head falls back and you suppress what would have been a pornstar-worthy cry, yet your effort is wasted when on the next thrust of his digits, the sound of your ecstasy is forced out of you as he wriggles his fingers slightly on your g-spot.

“Suguru!”

“Beautiful,” He breathes against your folds, eyes still trained on you as if he was a spectator beholding an art exhibit. 

When he says it, it clatters around inside of you like a china plate shattering on a kitchen floor. He must know what it does to you, because he dives right back in, eating you out like his life depends on it, complete with noises generated at the back of his throat like a starved man finally allowed food.

All too soon, as he’d predicted, your second orgasm approaches. It fades in like the start of your favorite Curse Manipulator song, building, building, building—

Something that has never happened before happens.

You feel this release of pressure, an overwhelming rush of heat, the sound of your own wanton scream sounding far away as you soak Suguru’s fingers and chin. He made you squirt. For the first time in your life.

You can barely remember where you are by the time he stands up, licking your juices off of his rings and wrapping his arm back around your waist to get close to you.

Like this, you feel the press of his hard cock straining against his jeans on your thigh and you shiver, meeting his eyes. 

“Did you like that?” He asks in a sort of whisper, and you nod mindlessly, leaning forward to kiss him.

Then you remember yourself and the rules, and pull away. He makes a disappointed noise and cups your face with his left hand.

“I wish you could taste yourself on my tongue,” He whispers, touching his nose to yours. “I want to kiss you so badly right now.”

Your eyes meet his, and though you just came twice, you still feel a raging fire inside of you for him. 

You don’t answer verbally; you just tilt your head to the side and lay a kiss on his cheek. He sighs, eyes fluttering shut, and you get more bold, kissing a line all the way down his neck. Your hands travel from his shoulders down his chest, over the taut fabric of his black tank top, ghosting over the piercings on each of his pecs on their way down.

You make it to the edge of his shirt and you suddenly become all-too-aware of the fact that you get to touch him. You get to do whatever the fuck you want to him, after all of these months of dreaming about it, he’s finally putty in your hands.

Like a kid in a candy store, your lips latch onto his neck as you push his shirt up, only pulling back to help him take it off and toss it unimportantly to the floor. Your eyes feast on his bare, muscular torso, pale skin seeming to glow in the lavender moonlight. The tattoos on his skin decorate him beautifully, and your vision catches on the twin silver barbels in each of his nipples, mouth salivating. It only worsens when you see the bulge in his black jeans, fiending for release. 

How is he this gorgeous?

“Keep looking at me like that and I’m not gonna obey the rules,” He warns softly, hands on your waist, and you meet his eyes, dangerously close to wanting to break them yourself. 

“You’re just…” You trail off, laying a hand on his chest and running it down slowly, watching his breath hitch. “God you’re just…”

He smiles slightly, amused, and you just shake your head and lean forward, mouth landing on his collarbone.

Your lips busy sucking marks into his chest, your hands need something new to touch, so you find the buckle of his belt, starting to tug on it.

You can feel the uptick in his heart rate because it’s beating right beneath your kiss, and the knowledge that you’re affecting him so much goes straight to your head.

His hands have moved up to your breasts, kneading them gently as you work his pants open, satisfaction filling you the second you feel the button release.

In search of what you yearn for, you drag the zipper down and dip your hand underneath the waistband of his boxers, at last coming into contact with the smooth, hard heat of his cock. He gasps, breath fluttering, and the moment you wrap your hand around it and pull it free from the confines of his clothing, he groans. It’s music to your ears.

The touches he’s been giving to you intensify as you begin to stroke him, his shaft thick and lengthy in your grasp. 

Except for the small amount of precum you spread down his length, there’s nothing to help the glide, but he remedies that by canting his hips forward and raising your knee, cock bumping against your soaked mound. You jolt, thinking he means to slip inside, and he shakes his head.

“I don’t have condoms,” He murmurs, “But you can still get me wet.”

A slight tinge of disappointment fills you—there won’t be that final push tonight, but you’re here and you’re so turned on you can’t think straight, so you do as he says and rub his tip against your folds.

“Oh, fuck,” He breathes out, head falling back. He inhales sharply, starting to rock his hips to rut against you. “Fuck, you feel so soft…”

Your composure utterly gives out beneath you and you fall forward, letting your forehead rest against his chest as he continues fucking against your clit. It’s over-sensitive and puffy, but god damn is it determined to keep up?

Unable to help yourself, you drag your teeth over one of his tattoos, and he grunts, hand winding behind your waist to pull you closer. Spurred on and suddenly level with his pec, you part your lips and allow your tongue to swipe over the pierced nipple beneath it, and he shudders.

“Fuck, baby.”

If he keeps calling you that, you’re going to need to be admitted. 

Of course, it only impassions you, and your strokes quicken, hand tightening every time you get to the tip and loosening on the way down. 

“Yes,” He sighs out, taking your face in his hand and guiding it up. He looks at you in the eyes for a second, then moves in, planting a kiss left of your mouth. Your eyes close, and he keeps going, giving you desperate pecks as he keeps fucking your hand, getting himself sloppy with your essence, precum mixing in with it. 

His mouth finds your ear and he bites at the shell, low groans sending vibrations down your spine. 

“I wanna fuck you,” He sounds winded in a way you’ve never heard before, strained, and it’s so fucking sexy. “I wanna be inside of you so badly…I wanna feel every detail.”

“Oh god,” You shudder, eyes squeezing shut, feeling lightheaded.

“If I could, I’d grab you and turn you around,” He tells you, “I’d make you take it all until you’re stuffed with my cum.”

Jesus Christ, that’s the dirtiest thing anyone has ever said to you. Your body trembles involuntarily, clenching on nothing, and you pull him closer, wrapping your legs around his hips. All you can do now is hold his cock down while he ruts against you, friction mutually beneficial, completely losing your mind. 

“Would you like that?” He asks, voice sultry like brown sugar, sweet and bad for you. 

Still, you nod, long gone, clutching onto him for dear life. “Yes…”

“Yes? Yes, who?” He asks, a dangerous little tinge in his voice, “Who is it that you want to get fucked by right now?”

Fuck, “You…”

His thrusts are turning erratic and you can feel him getting close, muscles tensing up, urgency increasing.

“What’s my name?” He asks you, a soft demand.

Oh god, “Suguru.”

“That’s right,” He murmurs, hissing as he teeters over the edge. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum, baby…”

As if commanded by him, your body seizes up and your third orgasm of the night hits you, nails digging into his shoulder. That’s all it takes for him to follow—he seethes air through his teeth, voice catching in a guttural grunt, and you feel hot semen spilling onto the tender flesh of your mound, staining the fabric of your ruined panties. 

“God,” He breathes, trying to calm down, eyes unfocused. 

They land on your face, and all he does is look at you for a moment before leaning in, kissing your forehead. 

“I won’t see anyone else,” He murmurs to you, firm and breathless.

You shake your head automatically. “I didn’t ask you to do that.”

“I know.”

Such a violent tenderness erupts inside of you, endorphins and oxytocin swirling around like a hurricane, making a mess of your psyche. He really doesn’t want anyone but you, and that knowledge is sharp like a knife. Despite the danger of it, you don’t want to leave.

If Suguru’s desire for you is destined to swallow you whole, you are royally fucked.

__

a/n: the way my fingers flew writing this

Please don't copy or repost, but feel free to reblog and share!

His eyes are locked on yours. There’s no vindication—just confusion. You can’t lie to him. It hurts too much to even think about telling this precious man you love an untruth. 

“Choso,” You begin, slicing through the tension-thick air. There’s a lump already forming in your throat, and you brace yourself to lose the man you love. “I…I need to be honest with you.”

Worry instantly etches into his features. “…all right.”

“When I said I just thought he was good-looking, that…that wasn’t the entire truth. I…ever since we met him, I-I’ve been attracted to him but I-I…I love you so much, the guilt is eating me alive.”

It all comes out in a rush, the truth of your feelings, and it takes him a moment to catch up with you to process your words.

He digests the initial part first. “Ever…since we met him? You mean, at my audition?”

You nod shamefully. It’s begun–and you decide now is the best time to just get it all out. There’s no way he’s going to accept everything you’ve done, because you know you wouldn’t, but you just can’t keep hiding things from him. This is the man you love, and what is love without honesty?

After you start, it just pours out of you.

Everything that has happened. Initiating sex in the car after you left his house because he’d turned you on, listening to his voice on repeat through the band’s songs, the fantasizing, the stolen moments that happened in Suguru’s kitchen, then backstage at their concert, then three times again that same night, once at the bar, then in the car, then in your living room after Choso had been carried to bed, then two months later when you brought him back to talk after running into him at the grocery store. All of the forbidden touches, the heated words, the almost-kisses–you spill it all. He deserves to know. He’s too good of a person to be with someone as horrible as you.

By the time you finish, the two of you had sat up in bed, a bedside lamp on to illuminate the room. Sleep is lost on you both now. 

For a while, he just sits there in silence, eyes trained on the foot of the bed. It feels stuffy yet cold, and you wonder if you’ve stopped breathing at some point, waiting for his response. You’re not even sure what you expect. How can anyone possibly react to something like what you just told him?

Your heart drops through you at the first sight of a tear sliding down his cheek. He hasn’t said anything, but it’s clear that he’s hurting. 

What have you done? You were given the most precious boyfriend in the world and you’ve screwed it up by being selfish and undisciplined? 

He parts his lips, searching for the words. They only come after another beat of silence. 

“...all of that…” He begins in a gravelly voice, one you know he uses when he’s holding back his emotions, “and…all I can think about is…I’m in the way of you and him, aren’t I?”

You had no idea what you expected, but that reaction is ten-thousand times worse than anything you could’ve conjured up in your head. 

“No,” Your own voice shakes, you’re hurt because you hurt Choso, “You’re not…you’re not in the way, you’re my boyfriend. I love you.”

“But you want him,” He replies, voice strained. His eyes are still averted from you. “And he wants you. Not just a little, either.”

What argument can you make? You just have to speak from the heart. “Choso, I swear to god, I love you and Suguru hasn’t affected the way I feel about you in the slightest.”

“But I’m not your only option,” He says, monotony terribly forced as more tears stream down his cheeks. “And your other option is Suguru. The guy who is everything I am and more.”

You wonder if the crack you just felt in your heart was audible. “What?”

“He can give you the things I can…and the things I can’t.”

You need to fix this now.

“You’re the man I love,” You say, “Choso, what we have is so special, and–”

“I want what’s best for you,” Choso interrupts you, finally meeting your eyes. They’re glassy and weighted. “I just want you to be happy. He can make you happy.”

“No,” You instantly say, “No, loving you is what makes me happy. Being with you makes me happy. I don’t want to leave you, Choso. I don’t.”

“If you’re happy with me, then why…why do you want Suguru that badly?”

The full truth. What has exactly cemented itself within your soul–you need to bear it to him now. 

“Choso,” You begin, taking his hands and locked eyes with him. “I need you to believe me when I say that I have never ever second-guessed my feelings for you. I know that I am in love with you, and every single moment with you is a blessing that I will forever be grateful for. It’s just that…since I met Suguru, I’ve begun imagining what it would be like with him. Also, not instead. I want you in my life, I want you loving me, I want you to be my boyfriend now and forever, and more if that’s what comes with our future. But I…honestly, I want Suguru there too.”

Choso looks perplexed for a moment, eyes flitting between yours as he once again absorbs all of your words. “...you want him…too?”

Your next nod is earnest yet careful. “Yes. I know it’s ridiculous, selfish, and impossible, but I love and cherish you so much…and I want Suguru. I could never be without you, Chos’, and I sure as hell could never ever replace you with him. I don’t even know if Suguru and I are actually compatible and would go anywhere. Please, believe me.”

He draws in a slow breath, eyes never leaving yours. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry that you have to deal with this, and with me,” You add, “And I understand if you want me gone, I know even thinking that is horrible, and I am the worst person on Earth for hurting you.”

“I don’t want you gone,” He immediately says, surprising you thoroughly. 

“What? But I’m…I’m pretty sure all of this qualifies me as some sort of heartless…whore.”

He furrows his eyebrows, shaking his head vehemently. “You are not a whore. Do you go out every time I’m gone and sleep with random men you meet? Do you message more online? Do you send them pictures?”

“N-no, of course not.”

“You’re not a whore,” He says again, sighing heavily. “It’s…this is Suguru we’re talking about. Just Suguru. And this has gone on since we met him, for what…the better half of a year now? More than that? You haven’t even kissed him, let alone slept with him. You just…you just have a lot of affection to give.”

You look down at your lap. “It’s probably just physical, anyway…”

“You said you told him you wanted more, though, after he said that’s what he wants,” Choso points out. “Don’t sugarcoat it for me.”

“No, I-I mean, I’ve barely been around him. Who’s to say it isn’t just lust?” You feel like you’re backtracking, but also like maybe you’re telling the truth. You don’t know anymore. “Maybe I was just caught up in it all when he said it. We could end up not liking each other at all if we really got to know each other…”

After you trail off, no words fill the space between you two for another few moments. 

“So,” he exhales, “You want him…too. In what sense?”

“Well,” You begin unsurely. “I…don’t know.”

“Do you think if you slept with him, your curiosity would go away?”

There’s a seriousness that hangs in the air, one that you can’t help but feel is unwelcome.

“What?”

“I just…don’t see another solution to this. Because I love the band, and Suguru made it clear he wants me to stay. That means that at some point, you two are going to have to be around each other. If you…end up alone, it could mean you two just give in, and none of us want that. Suguru doesn’t want to go behind my back, you don’t want to cheat on me, and I don’t want either of you to betray me.”

“But I still don’t see how the correct solution is for me to sleep with him,” You reply rather bluntly, bewildered.

“Because then I’d know about it,” Choso explains. “I mean, listen…I don’t like the idea of the woman I love sleeping with another man, but this isn’t just some guy, it’s Suguru. I know he’s a good man. I know he respects me. So if I…allowed you to…see what he’s all about, then no one would be lying to anyone. There would be no problem.”

Your eyes narrow. Is your boyfriend seriously suggesting you sleep with Suguru?

“But…what about your feelings? I’d still be…getting intimate with another man. Wouldn’t that bother you?” You question him, running a hand through your hair. 

“It’s not bothering me as much as it should,” He admits, “Because…all this time, all those moments, and neither of you said ‘forget about him’ and did it behind my back. Yes, you two have gotten close, but you’ve stopped yourselves. So…I know you both care about me. It sounds so strange coming from me, but…I’d let you do it, love.”

All you can do is draw in a deep breath. What is he even saying? 

He’s seriously giving you the go-ahead? To sleep with Suguru?

“All I ask is…for you to agree to a few things,” Choso adds, “You’d use protection…and…don’t kiss him.”

Don’t kiss him.

A flash of Suguru’s lip rings comes to mind like the shutter of a camera, and you steel yourself. No kissing him. Something you’d fantasized about for the longest time…barred. 

But he’s letting you sleep with Suguru. 

So what if you can’t kiss him?

“Okay,” You nod, then you hear yourself, and you shake your head, “W-wait, no, Choso, I can’t do this to you. You can’t be okay with this!”

“But I am,” He insists, reaching up and touching your face. There is only a gentleness in his eyes, no hint of anger or animosity towards you in them. “I love you, and I want to give you the world. If I can give you this by simply allowing you, I will.”

“But it’s sex,” You argue, “For crying out loud, Choso, how can you be okay with this? I’d never be okay if you wanted to sleep with another woman!”

“That’s okay,” He assures you, “It is sex, and to the two of us it means something different. For me, it’s exclusive. For you, it's an expression. I don’t like sleeping with anyone I’m not in love with, but for you, it’s more about who you find attractive. I trust you. I know you’ll never leave me, you’ve made that clear. If, throughout this entire thing, you’ve fantasized about Suguru yet never resented me or started finding faults in me, wishing I was him…I know you love me.”

“I do,” is what you reply with immediately. “I love you so much, Chos’.”

“See? I trust you,” He repeats. “If you wanted to cheat you’d have done so by now.”

For a while, you just remain silent.

Is he really giving you a pass? To have sex with Suguru? Just like that?

“Will you look at me differently? And him?” You ask, searching his eyes with yours.

“You’re always going to be the woman I love,” Choso shakes his head. “And he’s always going to be Suguru.”

“What about when we’re all together? When you’re in the same room as me and him? Will you be able to take it?”

Choso consider your words for a moment before nodding. “Yes. I will. Things will probably be less tense now that it’s out in the open, don’t you think?”

“…well, possibly, yes.”

There is about a full minute of absolutely no sound in the room. You don’t know what to say. You weren’t expecting a full fight, because you know that’s not what Choso is about, but you sure as hell weren’t expecting this either. How are you supposed to react?

Choso has given you his permission to sleep with Suguru. You can actually do what you’ve been wanting to do–well, mostly–and more than anything, right now you’re just feeling…weird. 

“Chos’, I…I don’t know what to say…”

He shakes his head. “You don’t have to. We’ve talked it over and said everything we need to say.”

Well, he’s right. You’ve asked about his feelings, about his reaction, he knows the dirty details of your thoughts…and this is the end result. The boyfriend you have been in love with since before this entire mess has started still loves you even after everything you’ve considered doing, and everything you’ve done, and what’s more is that he is green-lighting even more that you never thought he’d be okay with.

Your eyes happen upon him, and you really take him in. The way his layered hair falls in messy strands around his face, the soft droop of his chocolate eyes, smeared with his trademark purple eyeliner. You follow the shape of his jaw, the curve of his Adam’s apple down to his neck, further to the collar of his shirt, where you remember he has that tattoo of your name on his heart. More than ever now, you understand that he’d gotten that done with utmost sincerity. So much emotion sweeps over you in a tidal wave–you love your boyfriend so much, and you’re sorry he’s even in this position, whether he’s okay with it or not. 

There isn’t much time between after you’ve had that thought and when you climb into his lap, kissing him in a way that you hope conveys everything you’re feeling for him at the moment. 

Choso responds eagerly, and soon layers come off, the black ink of your name etched into his breast on full display. It’s a lot of touching and grinding–you try to knead your affection into him with your hands and the way you move your hips on his, feeling him getting hard beneath you, your lips reaching any expanse of skin of his that they can reach. 

You kiss down his frame, paying special attention to the delicate part of his neck where it meets his shoulder and leaving a mark there. It’s easy to elicit noises from him, soft and breathy in nature, and you keep going, leaving a path of claims as you devour his body slowly.

Soon, you wind up between his legs, face beside his stiff length, but before you pay it any mind, you give attention to his thighs, a place you know is particularly sensitive. That’s when the sounds leaving his lips become more pronounced, abdomen rising and falling with each new mark you bite into the flesh there.

By the time you take him into your mouth, his cock is maroon-hard and weeping, the bitterness mixing with the flavor of his musk. The both of you moan at the same time, and his hands thread into your hair, gently holding it back as you suck, rising and sinking down on him over and over in the way you know drives him mad. His noises string together, strained groans and soft whimpers mixing to create a beautiful enough symphony that even that itself is music he creates. His thumbs caress your cheeks and you feel his eyes admiring you as you suck him off, a rosy blush spreading over your face.

When he’s good and soaked, and when he’s near his peak, twitching on your tongue with the threat of release, you pull off, looking up at him.

His eyebrows are drawn up, hair messily splayed across his pillow from his writhing, a crimson over the bridge of his nose. He’s panting, chest rising and falling rigidly, deep exhales painting the air.

“You’re so beautiful,” You tell him breathlessly, climbing back up his now mark-ridden body, straddling his hips with your legs. You take him into your hand and guide him towards your heat, allowing it inside as you seat yourself down.

“Oh, fuck,” He grunts, hands finding your waist instinctively. You can feel him throbbing inside of you, having been edged already, and you know it won’t take him long to reach his peak. 

He knows this, and so when you start rolling your hips, keeping him fully inside, he begins roaming his palms over your skin, doing his best to bring you to the edge as well. The two of you move in a way that can only be disguised as a sensual, intimate dance. His hands find your breasts, teasing your nipples with the pads of his thumbs, then running a palm down your front until he finds your clit. He starts rubbing it to the tempo of your movements, and little gasps leave your mouth, spurring on more impassioned grinds from you.

You look down at him, staring up at you with reverent, lidded eyes, and you know that no matter what you do with Suguru, it can never replace what you have with Choso. 

“I love you,” You murmur, leaning down and initiating a hungry kiss. 

He returns it with fervor, speaking into your wet cavern with a reciprocal, “I love you,” before chasing it down with his tongue. He starts meeting your movements with his own, intensity increasing until soon he’s moaning down your throat and cumming deep inside, your own orgasm rippling through you at the same time.

He holds you close and you don’t stop showering him with your love, intent on making sure he knows how much he means to you.

What comes next can wait until tomorrow.

__

a/n: you get to have your cake and eat it too in this universe, mmm hmm, mm hmm. now...what will happen next?

Please don't copy or repost, but feel free to reblog and share!

Satoru Gojo

Suguru Geto

Hiromi Higuruma

Choso Kamo

Toji Fushiguro

Sukuna Ryomen

I refuse to believe Choso is anything but an absolute sweetheart

Sukuna Ryomen is the most fearsome syndicate head of the modern day. He looms like a storm cloud that threatens to unleash devastating hail at any moment over the city, ruling it with an iron fist. He’s the Two-Faced Demon incarnate, as you’ve heard those around you refer to him, the enigmatic man always addressed as if he was a mythical creature rather than a living, breathing person. He was the richest man in the city with his mountains of dirty money, each finger on his hands tied around the neck of all the local politicians and officials. As such, you never in a million years expected him to wind up at your stripclub in a dingy corner of town, so far away from the luxury of the inner city. 

He stands out like a beacon in the night, with his sunset-colored hair and white suit, which is really only slacks and a blazer, shirt forgone to display the large black markings of his tattoos instead. 

In your little corner on the outskirts of town, no one remotely interesting has ever come into the club. It’s usually slimy, older men, married and greedy for what they can’t have, salivating like dogs in heat for a glimpse at bodies that exist just out of their reach. 

Sukuna is a reprieve from that. Someone young and gorgeous, with an aura of danger…and you’re attracted to him like a moth to a flame. So, you decide to move in on him—he’ll probably never be here again, so why don’t you have some fun with it?

You saunter towards the section he’s sitting in, a booth against the wall, deciding to walk by and glance at him for a second, enticement in your eyes but no need on your lips. 

It works.

“Hey,” His deep, chalant voice calls to you. You pause, turning back around, leaning against the separator of his booth to the next. 

“Hey,” You echo smoothly. The edge of his mouth turns up, interest flickering in his appraising eyes as he takes in your form. 

“How much for a dance?”

“Twenty.”

A tilt of his head. “You know who I am, don’t you?”

You hum. “Sukuna Ryomen. Who doesn’t?”

“And you’re not gouging me?”

At that, you just snort. “Gouge you? I’m gonna enjoy dancing for you, I don’t need to gouge.”

He raises a brow, then his hand is up and he’s beckoning you towards him with a finger. “I gotta come to a shoddy little hole like this more often.”

You don’t reply to him, you just swing a leg up onto the booth in the seat beside him, waiting for him to tuck the cash into your garter. He reaches into his pocket, grabbing the small leather wallet from within and producing a twenty-dollar bill. As prompted, he slides it into your garter, brushing his calloused fingers over the skin of your thigh before you grab the pole beside you and hoist yourself up, beginning your dance.

You never get this much enjoyment out of performing for any man. They’re all the same, gross and worn-out, but Sukuna…there’s a fire in his eyes. Usually, you’re watched with impersonal hunger, but the way he’s looking at you now—it’s appreciative, calculated, controlled. He’s savoring every shape he finds in your body with his eyes, and it feels so good. By the end of it, you can feel yourself pulsing with arousal, the bottom of your skimpy lace set damp with the evidence. 

It’s not lost on him; once you finish, slinking down with your legs parted to cage his body between your heels, ass on the cold wood of the table, he grabs your hips and pulls you into him abruptly, causing you to gasp.

“I can see how wet you are,” He murmurs under his breath, pushing you down into the evident bulge in his pants. It’s rock hard, and you have half a mind to maul him there in the lounge.

Immediately the security guard nearest to you springs into action, ready to intervene, but you hold a hand up to him.

“It’s okay,” You reassure him, feeling Sukuna’s palm shamelessly gripping at the flesh of your ass. “It’s welcome.”

“Mmm, welcome?” Purrs Sukuna, drawing your attention immediately away from the guard and making you forget all about him. “Just how welcome am I?”

You suck in a breath, meeting his eyes, such a brilliant, unusual brown that they appear almost red. You can only think one thought–fuck it.

“We have private rooms,” You inform him breathlessly, “…if you want.”

That pulls a breathy chuckle out of him, and he huffs, amused. “I think I’ll take you up on that offer, sweetheart.”

It’s sort of hard for you to recall the time it takes for you to get off of him, take his hand, and lead him to the hallway where you enter an empty room, locking it behind the two of you.

You’ve never been back to one of these with a customer, and immediately it reminds you of a motel bedroom, old wallpaper on the walls, worn carpet, and nothing but a bed and side table placed in the center with sheets and no comforter. Dingy, seedy, and for one purpose only.

He hums, sitting down on the edge. “This place is no Vixens for sure.”

The name of an upscale club closer to the center of the city. You laugh softly, choosing to be bold and straddle his lap. His hands find your ass immediately, as if they’ve been there a million times. 

“It’s not,” You agree, “I’m no Vixen girl.”

“Mmm, I’m not missing out on much,” He grins wolfishly, admiring your figure again. “They all start to look the same once you realize they have the same surgeon. Don’t know how many girls’ bodies I’ve paid for over there by now.”

“A frequent visitor, then?” You ask, running a hand over his chest. He laughs haughtily.

“Like you have room to talk. I’m just another client.”

The smile you give him is full of chagrin. “I don’t actually take anyone back here. You’re the first.”

“Oh, I won’t believe that, but nice try,” He holds your chin between his index and thumb. “Now…it seems I’ve ensnared my prey for tonight.”

The predatory edge to his gaze should scare you, but if you do feel fear it quickly converts to arousal. If the way the world works is truly survival of the fittest, you’d be the first to go. You know that now for sure.

Sukuna Ryomen is not a gentleman, but then again, you dance naked for a living so you aren’t a saint either. Two souls, both sold, entwining within the heady musk of a room fortified with filth. You only serve to add to it.

He puts you on your knees first. It takes him no time at all to pull his cock out, hot, heavy, and thick beyond belief, with a length that sets your insides ablaze when you can wrap both hands around it and still see the tip. 

“Suck,” is all he commands, and like a concubine determined to service her master, you get to work. 

You may not usually offer sex for money like some of the other girls at your club, but you’re far from inexperienced. 

With him, you feel like you can be as bold as you want and he’ll enjoy it. So you just go for it.

You part your lips and take him in, sliding the large cock back to your throat where the gag reflex has long been evicted. 

He groans, grabbing you by the back of the head and forcing you to stay down. You moan, the vibrations adding fuel to his fire, and he pulls you back for a moment.

“Breathe now, because you’re not comin’ up again until I say.”

That and five more seconds is the only warning you get before he slams you back down, starting to properly fuck your face.

It’s a blur of push, pull, stretch, gasp for an immeasurable amount of time, the musky taste of his skin mixing with the salt of his precum running down your burning throat on its own volition, swallowing only triggered when he thrusts particularly hard. 

You can vaguely feel the tears running down your face, not from discomfort but from reaction alone; he’s conducting your body as if you’re a symphony and he alone holds the baton, cueing your every move.

“Fuck,” he hisses, looking down at you with sharp eyes. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

You make an incoherent, garbled noise, your own arousal dripping down your thighs at this point, effectively ruining your set for the night. You won’t be able to dance in it after this, although, if this keeps up you won’t be able to dance tonight at all. 

He throws his head back and gives you a guttural groan, hot, bitter seed pouring down your throat in thick rivulets. 

Sukuna straightens back out and looks down at you. “Clean it up. Every last drop.”

You moan, sucking on him just to be sure you collect it all, and only then does he pull off.

“Tongue. Show me you swallowed.”

Obediently, you do just that, lips puffy and abused but tongue clean of cum.

“Good.”

He sniffs. Sitting back down on the bed, laying sideways, and regarding you for a moment, still on your knees and almost shaking with how turned on and untouched you are. 

“You haven’t gotten any pleasure, huh?” He asks, leaning on his hand thoughtfully. You nod, clearing your throat.

“I’m,” it comes out raspy and hoarse. He guffaws, a salacious grin playing on his face. You try again. “I’m soaking.”

“Yeah?” He asks, casual and uncaring. “Hmm…I could toss you my cash and leave you here like I usually do…let you take care of it yourself…”

You wait to hear the other option, begging him to choose whatever it is as long as he gives you something. 

“Or…I could reward you…since I enjoyed you so thoroughly…though I have to warn you, it’s not for the weak.”

Interest flares inside you. “I’m not weak.”

“Oh, well, you did take what I just gave you like a champ, so I suppose,” He acknowledges with a shrug. 

The room is silent for a moment before he hums decidedly. “Get up here. Kneel in front of my face.”

And you do so. He hums, eyeing you without an ounce of shame.

“You are quite wet. Look at your thighs, all shiny and sloppy.”

You don’t have time to reply, because he suddenly reaches out, pushing two of his fingers inside of you deeply. A gasp leaves your lips, but he ignores it.

“Pussy’s tight and soaked,” He states as if giving an appraisal. He looks up into your eyes, beginning to pump his digits in and out slowly, making sure to press hard every time they slide in. “Think you can take my cock inside?”

Your heart begins pounding in your chest. There’s not another man like him, you can’t explain it. Nodding, you say, “I can.”

“Eager,” He laughs, amused. “You’d probably do it for free, wouldn’t you?”

A shameful red blooms across your face, and you suddenly feel self-conscious. He chuckles, low and breathy. He grips your chin firmly, forcing your eyes to meet his. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll compensate you prettily for your work,” He almost cooes, letting you go and laying down on his back. “You will work for it, though. I already got my fill.”

You become perplexed. “How?”

He glances down to his soft cock, laying against his abdomen, then back at you expectantly. 

“You want it, come and get it.”

It dawns on you that if you want any sort of satisfaction tonight, you’re going to have to do the work. Fine, then. One of the perks of doing this line of work is the ability to easily shake off any shame. You want what you want and you’re gonna take it. 

The first thing you do is lose the platforms adorning your feet, their weight dropping with a satisfying ‘thunk’ to the floor.

You then straddle his hips, taking his flaccid cock in hand and, after moving your soaked g-string aside, take him by surprise by slipping him inside of you just like that. He breathes in deeply, sensitive no doubt, and you start rolling your hips to get him hard, removing the straps of your skimpy top and exposing your breasts to him.

“Heh,” A crooked smile adorns his lips, “You were born to do this, weren’t you?”

You’re starting to think you were too, but not just for any man. The kind of guys that come in here are nowhere near Sukuna Ryomen. For him only, you can become whoever you are right now.

You nod, feeling him begin to harden inside of you, the sensation sending hot shivers cascading down your spine. As you begin to get more into it, he follows suit, hands exploring your body. First they fondle the malleable flesh of your breasts, then down your waist, your hips, gripping it tightly. You mewl, speeding up, his dick now stiff inside of you. He’s huge but it definitely helped to start out with him soft, because now he’s locked in, and all you have to do is move.

Wanting to feel more, you raise yourself up on him and drop back down harshly, the depths of you intruded by his length. It makes you release a cry, and before you can recover, his hands have found your ass, gripping it so hard it hurts. He starts to guide you faster on his cock, arm muscles straining beneath the fabric of his blazer.

“Sukuna,” The name leaves your lips before you can stop it, and for a moment you think you’ve messed up until he doubles down on his efforts, groaning deeply in his throat.

“Fuck,” He hisses, “Say it again.”

“Sukuna,” it comes out even more debauched than the first one, and slaps your ass hard, the sting causing you to flutter around him, his hips stuttering with the effort to move in such a confined space.

“You’re fucking tight…”

All you can do is whimper, not even participating in the movements anymore, just letting them happen to you, taking whatever he decides to give you.

He seems to notice this, because your back meets the sheets in the same breath, the syndicate head suddenly on top of you.

With the new leverage, he really begins drilling into you, and desperate, obscene drawls start pouring from your lips, so loud and abandoned that if the music wasn’t so loud in the lounge, someone would surely come looking for you in concern. 

His hands are on the backs of your knees, pushing them down, folding you in half without regard for whether you can bend that way or not, and he’s screwing you so absolutely hard that the coil inside you begins winding without any touch at all. 

“Sukuna,” You mewl, completely wrecked now, “Gonna cum…”

“Fuck,” He grunts, “You’re gonna make me cum again…”

Your response is a choked moan, and all it takes are the three subsequent, hard snaps of his hips for you to shout his name, cumming so hard your body shakes. 

“Shit,” Sukuna seethes through his teeth, pulling out and jerking himself off a few times before his second load paints your abdomen and thighs, staining the parts of your set it lands on, and you feel yourself clenching on nothing, gaping in the absence of his shape. 

The sharp-eyed man takes in the sight of you for a moment before climbing off of you and getting to his feet. He walks over to the lone nightstand in the room, grabbing the tissue box and tossing it onto the bed, grabbing a few for himself to clean up. 

You sit up, taking your own tissues and cleaning yourself off.

“Gotta say,” He breaches the silence after the tissues are disposed, your lingerie readjusted as good as you could get it. “I ain’t fucked like that in a long time.”

A loose smirk slides over your lips. “Me neither.”

He moves over to you, holding out a wad of cash. Your eyes widen–the girls that do take clients into private rooms usually make a hundred or two hundred at best per man, and what you see in front of you is easily at least a couple thousand.

“Don’t be shy now,” He says, “I’m loaded and you worked for it.”

He’s not wrong. You won’t deny him.

Once it’s in your hands, he flashes you another grin. “It was fun, uh…?”

You realize he’s prompting for your name, so you give it to him. He repeats it, the contours of his voice giving it a quality you’ve never heard before when other people say it.

“Hope to see you again,” He says, heading for the door. 

You watch him go, replying with, “you know where to find me.”

He hums, looking back at you for a moment with that confident simper before he exits.

Once you’re alone again, you take a look at the stack of cash, taking a look at how much he gave you. Three thousand.

“Holy shit,” You gasp, eyeing the money with bulging eyes. That’s an entire good week’s worth and then some.

You look back up at the door, thoughts echoing his last words to you.

Hope to see you again.

--

A/N: my first Sukuna piece!! I love how this turned out...and yes, this will be a series.

So excited for this new story. Something about a stripper and a syndicate man just works for me. I had to sugar-coat him a lil but he's still Sukuna... p.s. doing research, I learned "Ryomen" isn't Sukuna's name technically, but the name of a folktale/mythical demon? So it's kinda funny using that as his last name but for purposes, we'll just role with it lmao

Things return to a semblance of normalcy. 

Choso continues to work with Curse Manipulator.

Suguru doesn’t text or call you, despite having gotten your number, and you sort of let it be.

You greet Choso when he comes home, and you’re both happy to see each other.

The two of you even have a better sex life than you’ve ever had now that he’s become bolder with you.

But it feels like you’re walking on thin ice. Microcracks are undulating beneath the weight of your steps, the frigid void of water beneath beginning to seep through. There are no indications. You just feel like something is off.

He isn’t acting like anything is wrong…but it’s almost as if things are too quiet.

This purgatory drags on for about a month until one night, when you’re home alone and you get a text from Suguru.

He noticed.

You pause as soon as you read it. He noticed? What does Suguru mean by that?

What?

I’ve been asking about you more, he asked me what was up.

Then I told him the truth.

Your heart full-on drops into the pit of your stomach.

What did you say?

I said I think you’re attractive.

Was that all?

Well, I also said I have no intention of usurping you. That I respect him and your relationship.

But I wanted to tell you because he’s probably going to bring it up.

So be prepared.

The way he’s talking, it sounds like the two of you have to cover something up. It’s like it’s a late-stage affair rather than just the metaphorical dance-around-the-fire the two of you have been engaging in.

Is it still bad? Yes. Is this text conversation proof of that? Yes, again.

Okay…

Thanks for the heads up.

Also,

I’ve been wanting to text you but I wasn’t sure what to say.

Anything is incriminating, right?

Not necessarily…you could ask me how my day was or…I don’t know, bring up a new movie or song or…

Maybe it just feels that way because of how I feel about you.

And how I know you feel about me.

It’s not innocent.

You have to set the phone down for a minute to gather your bearings. What game is he playing? You haven’t heard from him in a month and now he does this?

Your hand picks your phone back up and you type out a reply.

When you talk like that, of course it’s not.

How can I see what your face looks like right now without you being here?

What do you see?

Your eyes are heavy. There’s a weight in them. You’re probably holding my hand again.

I wish I was.

Good god, you can’t catch a break.

Should you really be flirting with me after you told my boyfriend you were attracted to me?

He just thinks it’s one-sided.

He doesn’t know you feel the same.

So now I have to pretend like it is?

You have a choice to make. Tell him you’re attracted to me or just act surprised.

You mean, lie to him either way?

What other option do you have that won’t end in disaster?

He has a point. You can’t say it’s more than attraction, then he’d catch Suguru in a lie also. He’d realize it goes deeper than how he made it seem. So what?

Be half-honest, or lie completely?

Anyways…how was your day?

The abruptness of the text has you laughing aloud in the silence of your living room. 

It was fine. How was yours?

Just worked. We’re getting close to finalizing the album, then the next steps will come.

What are the next steps?

A music video for the title track, press run, and a tour. It’s going to be our biggest album yet.

As you read it, the gravity of it all hits you. 

Choso is part of a successful band. And it’s on the trajectory to get bigger and bigger. All of the proper groundwork has been laid—they’re local stars, and with a music video and the team Suguru has secured to help with promotion, their music will find new fans all over the place. With that comes touring, traveling all over the country and even the world…it’s huge.

Wow.

I can’t believe this is all happening.

It sounds like a lot, doesn’t it?

Well, yeah. You’re going to be proper rock stars.

Haha

You’ll be along for the ride.

Choso’s going to want you there. And I will too.

You’ll see everything we do.

That sounds fun and intimidating.

It does, right?

But it’s exciting. Choso is exactly what we were missing. With him we’re going to make it.

I feel proud.

You should. 

A question pops into your mind.

Was it always your goal to have fame?

Haha, well, I admit I am a bit of a show-off.

I just think everything happened to put me in this position.

That makes sense. I feel special, getting to know you guys before you get big. I’m your first groupie.

Haha, come on, you’re more than that. So much more.

I know. But I really am a fan. Your music is all I play recently.

Yeah? What song is your favorite?

Strange. You wrote it about your life, right?

I did. It’s sort of an autobiography. I’m surprised that’s your favorite, it’s one of the only songs of ours that’s really personal.

Why are you surprised? I remember when you told me about that stuff. Hearing it in a song was beautiful.

You sound so open and honest when you’re singing.

Oh, I see…

Was I not when I told you?

No, I meant I could feel your emotions because of how you sang it.

It’s breathtaking.

When you compliment me like that, it goes straight to my head.

Coming from you, that means the world.

I’ll make more meaningful songs in the future.

You don’t have to just because it’s what I like.

No, I want to.

I have some things I want to say.

You know, you’ve inspired me a lot.

You groan out loud, laying back on the couch and rubbing at your face in frustration. What are you supposed to do with that? This doesn’t sound like ‘no intentions of usurping’. 

Luckily (or unluckily) the lock in your front door turns, indicating the return of your boyfriend. 

You close out of the messaging app and lock your phone, hoping to ignore that text the rest of the night. With that you pretend to have been watching whatever show is on television as he walks in.

Immediately, his smile is tight as he greets you. “Hey.”

Oh god, here we go.

“Hey, baby,” you reply, giving him a smile as he moves to sit beside you after removing his shoes. He gives you a kiss on the cheek, arms winding around your waist. “How was it today?”

“It was okay,” he begins, his eyes meeting yours for a moment before they flit away. “I had an interesting conversation with Suguru.”

You steel yourself. “Interesting how?”

“Well,” he hesitates, pulling away and resituating himself on the cushion beside you, fiddling with his hands for a moment. “Lately, he’s been asking a lot…about you. At first, I didn’t think much of it. But then Larue randomly said today ‘you should bring her by again, Suguru won’t shut up about her.’ I didn’t realize he spoke about you when I wasn’t around. It got me thinking…why would he be talking about you like that? Then he mentioned you again, how you haven’t been around, and then I decided to just ask him what it was about once the other two guys left.”

You take a breath. “Um, okay…and?”

“And he told me he was attracted to you. Like, straight-up. I mean, he reassured me he wasn’t going to do anything about it, but I…I don’t know. I mean, he’s Suguru. He could probably have whoever he wants. If he went after you…”

Moment of truth. Who will you be? 

“Um…” You begin, heart pounding as you find your words, “well, that’s…”

Choso’s eyes flit back to yours, waiting to hear what you have to say.

“Well, I…thought maybe he did…”

“You did?” Choso asks, “You thought he was interested in you? Since when?”

“I don’t know, I just had a feeling.” Okay, so now you are a liar. Guilt starts fortifying deep in your gut. “I-I mean, I didn’t know for sure.”

“Oh,” Choso frowns, “So…I mean…what do you think about it?”

The correct answer is to tell him there’s no chance in hell. But hell is where you currently are, and you’ve entertained Suguru enough already, so what does that do for anyone?

You sigh heavily. “To…to be honest…I mean, he is an attractive guy, but I would never leave you for him, not in a million years, Chos’.”

Choso’s face is unreadable for a second, and you immediately begin regretting what you just said.

“So…” He breathes out, brows furrowing slightly. “What I’m…hearing is that you two are attracted to each other?”

Back pedal, back pedal, back pedal.

“I meant that he’s just a good-looking guy. You know? And he’s nice, but that doesn’t compare to what you and I have. We have history and intimacy, baby, I would never let him disrupt that.”

Haven’t you already, though? Liar.

“But what if it was different? If you met him first, and then me? If you had the history and intimacy with him? Would you still want me the same?”

Can he see right through you? This has potential to blow up in your face. You need to put this fire out now. 

“It’s not that serious,” you shake your head, taking his hands, “I’m in love with you, Chos’, and there are tons of good-looking guys out there, that doesn’t mean that I like them or want to be with them!”

“So you don’t like Suguru like that? It’s just that you think he’s good-looking?”

“Right.” Wrong.

Choso sucks in a deep breath, reaching up and taking his hair out of their ties to rub at his head. “Well…I…I trust you, obviously, it’s just weird.”

“Y-yeah, that’s understandable.” 

You’re lying to the man you love. This who you are now, isn’t it? A bad person. 

“I don’t need to worry, do I?”

“No,” you say in a rush, “baby, I’m yours, okay? I love you so much. You are the best. And nothing will take me away from you.”

He looks at you for a moment before moving closer, wrapping his arms around your waist and hugging you. “I’m just so afraid you’ll fall out of love with me. You’re my world and it’s unhealthy how much I love you. I’d sooner let you walk all over my heart than leave me.”

Each word twists the dagger he’s lodged in your heart harder and harder. 

All you can say is, “I love you,” like an apology, squeezing him tightly in your arms. 

“I love you,” he replies, tightening his own hold on you, and despite all of the words you exchanged, it doesn’t feel like you’ve reached a resolution at all.

You’ve just dug yourself a deeper hole.

____

“I want to keep going,” Suguru stares up at you, his mouth at the line of your shirt, dangerously near the top of your breast. You’ve seen this before—you two are in your living room all alone. Choso’s at his brother’s house. This is the part where Suguru pulls away and says he won’t go further.

Except, he doesn’t do that. He pulls you onto the couch. You wind up beneath him quickly, and he doesn’t stop. His greedy hands tug your shirt down, exposing you to his eyes, and his pierced lips wrap around a nipple, large palms on your hips, gripping them like you’ll float away if he doesn’t hold you down.

You feel the bead of his tongue piercing on your stiff peak, and can’t stop the gasp of his name.

“Suguru!”

He smiles up at you, that infuriating crooked grin, his hands working expertly to get you naked. His mouth kisses, tastes, and marks any expanse of skin he can touch, and before you know it, you can’t even remember if either of you had been wearing clothes in the first place. All you feel is his hot skin on yours everywhere.

He hovers his face over yours, molten sunset eyes locked with yours.

“I’m gonna kiss you.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“Don’t care.”

His mouth devours yours as a parched traveler attacks an oasis, and you moan at the taste of his mouth, the warmth of his tongue on yours, and you just let go. Your hands thread into his beautiful black tresses, cupping his face, kissing him with all of the desire in the world. 

Then, he’s inside of you.

It knocks the wind out of you, dislodging the kiss so you can cry out another, “Suguru!”

He groans, and then he’s moving, thrusts coming quick and hard, like an animal mauling its prey, carnal and so so delicious, your hands find his chest, his neck, his abdomen, his arms, his hips—you want to grab onto any and every part of him but nowhere you touch is enough, you want to become one with him. 

He goes harder and you can’t stop saying his name. It’s an incantation, evoking a side of you that you’ve never known, that you’re afraid of, that you vy for.

“Suguru…” it tumbles freely, “Suguru, Suguru!”

He takes you to heights you’ve never been to before, and you feel light as air yet far away like you’re at the bottom of the ocean. He fills your lungs, it’s impossible to breathe when it’s this hot—

Your eyes snap open. A hand is on your shoulder. Eyes are on yours. 

But they don’t belong to Suguru.

You’re in bed with Choso, and your blood suddenly runs cold. 

You were dreaming. 

The resignation in his eyes says it all.

“You…were saying his name in your sleep.”

---

A/N: evil cliffhanger oopsies...hope you enjoyed!! Also, I changed the cover art for the story 'cause it looked a little too cringe. This one is still cringe but tastefully so. Okay, d out!

Please don't copy or repost, but feel free to reblog and share!

The night had gone great. You two had a fantastic dinner at a fine restaurant, and now you’re at his house, getting hot and heavy on the couch. You’re sat in his lap, straddling his waist, the hem of your dress riding up your thighs as the fabric gives to accommodate him between your legs. Your hands are running over the muscles of his chest, only the thin layer of his dress shirt between your touch and his skin. His palms are on your waist, pulling you closer, pressing you so firmly against him that you can feel the blunt heat of his hard cock beneath the confines of his slacks. 

You can feel adrenaline pumping through your veins–tonight is the night. Every time you two get close to having sex, he pulls away, saying he isn’t ready, but right now it feels so different, so electric–

He hums, punctuating the kiss and pulling back, giving you room to breathe. Your stomach sinks, no, this isn’t what you want, you want–

“We should stop here for the night,” He murmurs, and you look into his eyes, a frown tugging your lips down at their corners. 

“But you’re hard,” You protest, “Kento, please…we’ve waited long enough, and you clearly want this…”

His jaw tightens as he takes a breath. “I do…but we can’t.”

Now you’re just confused. “...can’t?”

He sighs heavily, giving you no explanation, but nodding. “Now, let’s m–”

“No, hold on,” You interrupt him, “Kento, tell me why? I-is it me? Do you…not want…?”

“It’s definitely not you,” He dispels quickly, “It’s me, okay?”

“What about you?” You press, searching his eyes. “Is it…are you…worried about your performance?”

That gets him to widen his eyes a fraction in surprise. “N-no, it’s not that. It’s…alright, look, it’s…it’s that I don’t want to hurt you.”

It isn’t enough of an answer for you. “And…what do you mean by that?”

“You…you know me to be this nice, gentlemanly man, don’t you?” He asks, a sort of resigned weight to his eyes. “Which, I am. But not when it comes to sex.”

The wheels turn in your head. “So…you’re…?”

“I’m rough,” He finally states, “And it’s…it’s not everyone’s cup of tea. I’m afraid to hurt you or scare you away. Of course I wouldn’t do anything you don’t want, but…you just seem so sweet and–”

“Woah,” You stop him in the middle of his sentence. “Do you think you’re the only one with duality? You don’t think I can be different in bed? Do you think I’m some porcelain doll you’ll break if you’re not careful?”

He considers this for a moment before sighing. “You don’t understand.”

“So then make me understand,” You challenge him, running your hands up his chest. “Please, Kento. I can take it.”

“No,” He denies, “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

Seeing his hesitance, you decide to switch tactics. You reach for his hands on your waist, taking his wrists and raising his palms up to the front of your dress. You guide them to rest over your breasts, allowing him to touch them through the thin cloth. You’d decided not to wear a bra for the night since the article had thin straps, and he immediately can feel that, a flash of desire flitting within his eyes.

Riding the wave of his interest, you tell him, “I want you bad, Kento.”

He inhales forcefully, allowing himself to knead the soft flesh beneath his hands. His thumbs graze over your hardening nipples, your teeth dragging over your bottom lip instinctively. To drive your point home, you grind down on him, the only thing on beneath your dress being the panties you’d hoped he’d see when you had put them on earlier in the day.

“You’re playing dangerous,” He warns, voice thin and strained. 

“Maybe I want dangerous.”

He finally lets out a groan, surging forward and capturing your lips in another kiss. It’s more forceful this time, and all you can do is give complete control to him. 

He flips your positions so smoothly, you hardly feel it; you just suddenly feel your back hit the cushion of his couch, a gasp pushed from your mouth. His hands make quick work sliding up your dress, fingers hooking underneath your waistband.

Kento speaks against your mouth lowly. “Lace?”

You swallow hard, nodding. “Yeah.”

“Expensive?”

The question catches you off guard. “Uh, no, not r–”

A swift, harsh tug and the sound of fabric ripping later, he holds the scrap lace in his hand, now mangled and unusable. He just tore them clean off.

“Holy shit,” You breathe, now suddenly aware of how bare you are beneath your dress. He must become aware of that fact too, because without a moment to spare, he’s pushing the article up to your waist, exposing you to his eyes. A rosy flush spreads over the bridge of your nose as he looks at your naked lower half unabashedly, a type of hunger you have never seen before nor known he was capable of in his eyes.

He tosses your ruined panties to the floor and fiddles with his belt, undoing the buckle. Your gaze follows his movements, watching his hands expertly tug the leather strap from its loops in his pants.

Then, he surprises you by holding the edge without the buckle and running it along your inner thigh. You shiver, observing him and wondering what his next move will be. He runs it all the way up, reaching the apex of your leg and placing it right over your mound. The cool leather feels unfamiliar there.

“Can I?”

Your attention is pulled to his voice, and for a moment you aren’t sure what he means. Then it dawns on you.

Oh.

No one’s ever done that to you. But…you aren’t opposed. You’re curious.

You nod.

“Words.”

Oh, damn.

“Yes, you can.”

“Good girl.”

You don’t have time to pay attention to the rush of hormones that praise gives you, because a harsh sting of pleasure suddenly hits your senses as he brings the end of the belt down, slapping your clit with it.

“Ah!” You jump slightly, shock, arousal, and fascination flooding you all at once.

“How was that?” He asks, watching you carefully. You take stock of yourself…and are intrigued to find that you liked it. As soon as you realize that, you understand that Kento is about to show you an entire new world previously unexplored to you.

Your eyes lock with his. “It was good.”

A mixture of relief and desire swarm his gaze. “You liked that?”

“Yeah.”

Without warning, he does it again, a little harder, and you cry out this time, unused to the strangely welcome sensation.

“Still good?”

“Yes.”

“Good girl.”

Your next breath is shaky. “More.”

He wastes no time in delivering exactly what you want. Over and over again, until your pearl is red and swollen and the folds beneath are glistening with need, belt shiny with a bit of it. He stops once you reach this state, making sure you see as he licks it off the belt. Your lips part, entranced, and he drops the accessory, instead moving to undo the front of his slacks. Your heart begins racing–but then he pauses, seeming to deflate slightly.

“I’m not gonna go all the way,” He states, “I don’t have condoms.”

“What?” Your voice is more than a little indignant. “But…how?”

“I wasn’t planning to do this tonight.”

He pulls his cock from its restriction in his briefs, pushing his waistbands down to the tops of his thighs, and the sight of the thick, red shaft as your mouth watering and your core pulsing around nothing. 

You think he’s changed his mind as he lines it up, but then he just glides it against your folds, coating it in your essence and using it to rub against you, the feeling intense due to the sensitivity of your previously abused clit, but not what you crave.

“Kento,” You whimper, watching him rub himself off as he plays with you using his cock. “Please…”

“We’re not risking a pregnancy,” He maintains, “It’s not wise.”

You are beyond frustrated at this point, entrance weeping for attention, and you swear the desire is so bad you can feel your entire core sore and empty, vying to be filled and stretched.

What can you say that will get him to do it, even just a little bit?

Wait. Just a little bit.

“What about just the tip?”

His eyes narrow. “What?”

“Just the tip,” it comes out needier than you had intended, but god damn it you’re horny and all out of shame twice over.

Kento takes a good look at you, at himself and the position you’re in, sucking in a controlled breath for the umpth time that night.

Then, he lines up again, cockhead pressing against your entrance. “You’re going to regret asking for it.”

Is he challenging you? Whatever. What. Ever. You’ve reached a point where if you don’t get his cock soon your heart may actually give out. 

“Let me decide that.”

His jaw sets tightly before finally, finally, he cants his hips forward, pushing the tip of his shaft inside of you. 

As soon as it’s in, your head falls back on the couch, hips starting to roll without your permission. Your body wants him all on its own, and you’re no longer in command of it. He groans, pulling out and then pushing it back in, only the tip again, and you whimper in half bliss and half frustration.

You want more. 

You understand the true meaning of temptation now. You’ve had the first bite of the proverbial apple, and it’s shocking how eager you are to devour the rest to its core.

Everytime he pushes in, never going past the smooth head of his cock, you moan, wordlessly begging for more. There’s a worry in his brow and a tenseness to his jaw that indicates just how much self-control he’s exercising, and as you look up at him, you realize he’s still pretty much fully clothed—his tie is pristine around his neck, shirt fully buttoned up, only his dick out and vulnerable to your eyes. 

It’s unfair, and you seek to change that.

Your hand loops into his tie and yanks him down by it, taking him by surprise. He has to catch himself on his hands to avoid falling on you, a grunt escaping his lips as it causes him to slide further into you.

In a lowered hiss, he asks you, “what do you think you’re doing?”

The tone is so vindictive it has any words dying on your tongue. All it takes is a moment before he’s forcefully breathing out and lifting himself off of you, cock withdrawing from between your legs.

You open your mouth to protest, and that’s when your world spins. 

You were face up, but now you’re on your hands and knees on the couch, having to brace yourself as he manhandles you silently. There’s not even a moment for you to acclimate to your new position before you feel his fingers loop through your hair as you’d done to his belt, and in one motion, he grabs your hip with his free hand and slams all the way into you, pulling your hair back hard to make you arch for him.

A loud cry splits through the air and it’s only when he starts repeatedly fucking hard and fast into you with the entirety of his monstrous size that you realize the sound was from you.

“See what happens when you push me?” His voice is hoarse and gritty, more like a growl than a whisper, a dull ache inside of you where he’s currently remolding the shape of your walls.

All you can do is make incoherent noises, and you aren’t sure whether they’re from pain, pleasure, or a mixture of both. His grip on your hair isn’t letting up and it hurts, but you’ve also never felt so completely out of control of yourself and somehow it just feels freeing to you. 

“Huh?” He asks, and it’s then you realize you never replies to him verbally. You muster up the strength to speak.

“Y-yeah…” it sounds breathy and whiney, completely foreign in the contours of your voice.

“You happy now? Happy you got me to fuck you like the greedy whore you are?”

The harsh word ripples through you hotly and you moan, nodding as good as you can. “Yes…”

“Yes?” He asks, breathless, and he lets go of your hair in favor of wrapping his hand around your neck from behind. “You like being screwed like a whore?”

Apparently, you do. This is new information to you as well. You nod, gasping as he grabs your hand and presses it over your abdomen, where you can feel the flesh rising and falling in tandem with his thrusts. 

“Feel that?” He asks, “that’s me inside of you.”

“Oh god,” You rasp, the knowledge of him so deep inside your body going right to your head. You can feel your mound weeping all over yours and his thighs, the wet slap tell-tale of just how much you’re enjoying this. Just the realization has you fluttering around him, a sensation that isn’t lost on him.

“Fuck,” he breathes, “You really do like this, huh?”

You nod. “Yes, yes, Kento…”

He groans, leaning forward and kissing the juncture of your neck and shoulder, brushing your hair out of the way. 

“Such a good girl for me…my good little slut.”

You shudder, eyes squeezing shut as he speeds his movements up, the hand that was pressing yours to your stomach moving down to the slippery mess that is your swollen clit.

The big palm of his on your neck slides the thin straps of your dress down your shoulders and dips into the neckline of it, grasping your breast as if to claim ownership of it. 

“Oh my god,” You breathe again, hips twitching at all of the stimulation, face hot, entrance thoroughly fucked open and sloppy, debauched by Kento like a destructive form of artwork.

His middle finger massages circles into your sensitive pearl as he continues the grueling pace of his hips, lips pressed to the back of your neck, and all at once it becomes too much.

It crashes into you like the unforgiving wave of the raging ocean, sweeping you into the depths of pleasure.

You cum so hard on his cock he physically has to stop moving, your hold on him so tight he’s locked inside of you. That’s the moment that he follows, spilling his pent up, heavy load into you with a hiss of pleasure. 

Your arms and knees feel like jelly. Your walls are sore and throbbing, completely exhausted from his ravaging. But all you feel is feather-light. Finally, finally you did it. And it was better than your wildest imagination.

Lips place a tender kiss on your shoulder, his labored breaths slowing back to regulation. You feel his cheek rest upon the skin of your upper back. Both of his hands massaging along the sides of your hips.

“I’m sorry we waited so long. I just figured it would be too intense for you.”

You shake your head, turning it to look back at him as he straightens up and carefully pulls out. 

“Don’t do that again.”

The corner of his lips turns up slightly. “Oh no, I won’t make that mistake twice. In fact…there’s something else I want to do now.”

“And what’s that?”

“I want to test your limits.”

__

The two of you take either side of the couch in the living room once you’re inside with the groceries all put away. 

Suguru had been watching television while you restocked the fridge and pantry, so once you join him, he faces you properly, beginning to speak.

“I want you in my life,” Suguru tells you right off the bat, seeming to want to avoid wasting time, “And before I…tell you how I really feel, I need you to know that I don’t want to take you away from Choso. I understand that you two are happy and I have no ill-feelings towards him.”

You nod, waiting for him to continue.

“That being said,” Suguru looks you deeply in the eyes. “I…what I feel for you isn’t like anything I’ve felt for anyone else. You’re constantly on my mind and I…I just want to be near you all the time. I want to hold you and…kiss you. Since I want to be completely blunt, I…I want more than that, too. I’m physically attracted to you, but also, I…I can picture us together.”

Hearing it out loud is a crazy experience, but Suguru is being open and honest with you. You want to meet him halfway. 

“I feel the same way, but I haven’t lost any feelings I have for Choso. It’s very confusing.”

“That’s another thing—I don’t want to hurt Choso. I really like him, and I’d never want to betray his trust.”

You sigh, looking down at your hands, which have begun fiddling with each other in your lap. Then, in one fluid motion, you feel Suguru move closer, his hand covering both of yours. 

“I…I don’t know how to move forward from here,” Suguru confesses as your eyes meet, your heart fluttering in your chest. “But I can’t say ‘goodbye’ to you.”

”Look…um, I just think it’s a good idea if we only see each other when he’s around,” you tell him, his palm warm over your skin. Your eyes are fixated on the sight. “We…can’t control ourselves when we’re alone together.’

Suguru sighs heavily beside you, giving your hands a small little pulse, his thumb gently running in small strokes. It makes you nervous, filling you with a pulsating warmth that ebbs and flows in rhythm with his touches. 

“See?” You say, “Even this…this is intimacy we shouldn’t be sharing. We wouldn’t do this with Choso around.”

He looks into your eyes, nodding minutely. “That’s true. I know what you’re saying is true. I just…have this urge to not keep my hands off of you. If you were my girlfriend…should you want it…I’d have trouble staying off of you.”

You suck in a slow, deep breath. “When you say things like that…”

“I know,” he shakes his head, “I know, I do. Just…why couldn’t I have found you first?”

“Suguru,” you look away, pulling your hand out of his. “I shouldn’t be entertaining you like this, but I just…there’s something about you that I just…”

“Why haven’t you told him about what we’ve done so far?” He asks suddenly, causing you to look at him again. Your lips part for a second in thought before the honest words come pouring out.

“I don’t want to hurt him,” you say, “He has a tough exterior but he’s incredibly soft and vulnerable on the inside. If I told him…it would…grow. Like a weed. Even if I assured him it was nothing to worry about, it’d be there in the back of his mind. It would make him see you differently too, and it might ruin the band. I can’t do that, Suguru.”

“So, your plan is to never tell him how you feel about me?”

“How can I?” You stand up, gesticulating as you speak, “Suguru, I can’t tell my boyfriend, ‘I think I have feelings for your bandmate even though I’m still every bit as in love with you as I was when we first got together.’ If he did that to me, I would be devastated.”

Suguru frowns. “But the longer this goes on…the worse the lie.”

“I can’t hurt him.”

“So tell him the truth. Tell him how you feel about me, but that you have no plans of ever leaving him.”

“Then what? Then he leaves the band and hates you?” You ask, the idea absurd to you.

“Then I talk to him, too,” Suguru says, “I tell him how I feel, and that I have no plans of taking you away.”

“You tried to kiss me the last time we were alone together.”

“I know,” He says, “but maybe if it’s out in the open…”

“He won’t want me ever near you again,” You protest, “it’s better if this stays a secret.”

“I don’t like secrets,” Suguru shakes his head. “What if I dropped hints? Let him figure out that I have feelings for you? And we’ll see what he does.”

“What good would that do?”

“Then he could control the situation. Would that make you feel better?”

If Choso was the one who picked up on it, he could approach you first, and then you could get a read for how he feels about it based off of the way he broaches the subject with you. 

You take a breath before nodding. “Yeah…it would.”

“Okay,” Suguru nods. “Then we’ll do that. It’s going to be okay.”

Your heart throbs painfully in your chest, and suddenly those words of comfort have a lump growing in your throat. Why? Do you like Suguru that much? Is it really having such a great effect on you?

His palm touches your cheek, and you look up at him to see his golden eyes staring into yours. His voice is soft as he says, “tell me how I make you feel.”

There’s a flutter in your chest and you breathe out shakily. “I…I feel a pull. You’re always on my mind, and your music is all I play. When I’m with you, I just…I want to do every bad thing in the book with you. I want to know how you kiss, how it feels, how you…”

Your words trail off as you realize how insane it sounds out loud. Still, he presses on. 

“How I taste?” He fills in for you, deep voice low and syrupy, just above a whisper. It robs your own voice from you. You nod your affirmation.

His hand soothes your hair back. “What else?”

You inhale slowly to try and gain miniscule composure. “How you’d hold me…what it would be like if we were together…the sort of things we’d say, how we’d act, if we could just be a couple…”

“You like me bad,” he teases you lightly, and it commands a hot flush to your face.

“Don’t…”

“I’m right there with you,” he murmurs, pressing his forehead against yours. “I want to wake up next to you, to see you wearing my clothes, to make meals for you, to go out with you and spoil you…I want to make you happy.”

Your eyes close, and he takes the opportunity to ghost his lips over yours, the metal of his lip rings prompting a hitch in your breath. You begin to pull away, but he chases you, tilting slightly to plant a kiss to your cheek instead. You meet his eyes, and his own hold such an intimate gaze within them that you feel it sear through a layer in your heart. He keeps going; his lips meet the skin of your jaw, hands holding you by your back, and soon he’s trailing a line down your neck, arising goosebumps over the flesh he touches, the soft clicks indicating the cadence of each kiss only heightening your insanity.

Having lost a part of your conscience in his embrace, you return it, holding him close to you and relishing in his affection. You thread your fingers through his hair, pulling it from the tie it had been in, and he breathes out in relief, the warm air brushing over your skin.

His mouth stops at the neckline of your shirt, eyes glancing up at yours. 

“I want to keep going,” He states, lowly and softly. You swallow thickly, afraid of the lack of control you might display if you told him what you really wanted to say. Luckily, he doesn’t put you in that position, and he takes a breath, straightening up and putting some distance between you. “I won’t, though.”

Your eyes hold his for a moment, and then you move to speak.

The lock in the front door turns. 

Choso.

You hurriedly sit on the couch, an appropriate distance from Suguru, and understanding the situation immediately he follows suit on the other end. The door opens just in time, and your boyfriend walks through the door.

“Chos’,” you greet with a smile, standing and moving to kiss him. 

“Hey,” He kisses you back before noticing Suguru on the couch. “Oh, hey. I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Oh, yeah,” Suguru puts on his signature disarming smile. “We happened to be out at the same grocery store. I had to get more tea for Larue, and the place I usually go was out so I came over here.”

“Yeah, I ran into him and invited him over,” You corroborate. Nothing we said was a lie. Just not the entire truth.

“Cool,” Choso smiles easily, not phased or suspicious in the slightest. He removes his shoes and drops his keys in the basket near the door.

“How was hanging out with Kechizu?”

“Ah, same old,” Choso shrugs, “just played games and had pizza.”

“That’s good,” You say, moving to sit back down on the couch. “I got us restocked for the week with groceries since I got a little bored.”

“Oh, good. We can just use Sunday for a lazy day then,” Choso states, moving to sit where you were sitting on the couch. That leaves one spot; between him and Suguru.

Seeing the turmoil flash behind your eyes, Suguru stands.

“Well, it’s getting pretty late. I should get going home since it’s a little far from here.”

“Oh, you sure? You don’t want to stay for dinner?” Choso asks, “we can just order in and hang out, you’re not imposing.”

You take a breath, and Suguru shakes his head. “I appreciate it, but I gotta run some more errands before I go back. I’ll take you guys up on that on another day if you’ll have me.”

“Sure,” Choso shrugs, “you’re welcome any time.”

“Thanks,” Suguru smiles, then walks to the door. He passes you, and you get another whiff of his jasmine cologne, your last dose for the night. He starts putting his shoes on. “Thanks for having me over.”

Recognizing he’s talking to you, you smile in a way that you hope is convincing. “Sure, it’s no trouble. We’re friends now too, after all.”

Something gleams in his eyes at that. The denial you’d given him last time has been overwritten. “Yeah? Sweet. Hey, would you mind if I got her phone number, Choso? It’s not weird, right?”

What?

You look at your boyfriend, who shakes his head. “No, it’s not weird,” He chuckles lightly. “Go ahead. It’s probably a good idea in case of emergency anyway.”

“You’re right,” You agree, moving over to Suguru to take his phone and put your number in it. You text yourself so you have his. 

“Thanks,” He says, taking his phone back. “Well, I’ll see you Monday, Choso! You guys have a good night.”

“You too.”

Choso raises his hand in a wave, and you close the door behind him once he leaves, locking it.

Once you turn around, you see your boyfriend’s eyes traveling over your figure, and it makes you feel warm.

“Chos’?”

“You look really beautiful like that.”

You take a look at yourself. Your hair’s kind of messy, and all you’re wearing is one of his sweatshirts and shorts. 

“Thanks,” you laugh, moving to sit beside him. “I’m not wearing anything special.”

“So?”

That catches you by surprise. He’s usually not this bold. He reaches out and puts a hand on your leg, running it up your thigh. 

“I’ve been thinking about us…” Choso says, “and…that time when I got a little flustered after you wanted me to choke you.”

Your mouth dries up. “…oh?”

“Do you want me to be rougher?”

Your next breath is uneven. “W-well, I…”

“I need you to tell me what you want,” He says, voice dropping a bit in volume. “You know I’ll give you anything.”

“A-anything?” Your voice is thin. He nods seriously.

“Anything in the world.”

You find yourself nodding. “I want…I want to try it rough.”

His lips are on yours in the next instant, and everything after that is a blur of bruising touches, the hurried removal of clothes, and an insistence in your boyfriend you've never seen before.

He has you laid out on the couch, both of your clothes strung around the room unimportantly, his mouth trailing kisses down your neck. A reminder that Suguru had been there not even an hour ago has you feeling a whirlwind of emotions; the shame gives way to arousal.

Choso’s teeth near your nipple has you gasping right back to the present, and you look to see him sucking marks into the soft flesh of your chest. His hands are on your thighs, spreading them, and without warning you feel the glide of his length against your mound. 

He begins grinding against you as he marks your breast up in hickies, pulling noises from you that you don’t recognize. 

His tongue runs over your nipple and you cry out, arching your back as he doubles down and continues to run his tongue over the hardened peak, your sexes rubbing intimately together in a way that makes your heart feel close to bursting.

It’s like he’s a new man tonight…he’s never this into it.

His teeth graze the tip of your nipple and you shudder, wrapping your legs around his waist and beginning to move your hips with his. He groans at that, moving to the next breast and giving it the same attention the first one got. 

“Chos’,” you moan out, feeling one of his hands find the apex of your thigh. It’s only a second before two of his fingers find their way inside of you, slipping in with no resistance due to the way he’s masterfully turned you on. He starts pumping his fingers at a pace, the long digits reaching deep within you, making you shiver again. 

The combination of his mouth and hand are enough to make your head spin. 

He adds a third finger and begins moving down, sliding to his knees off the couch and readjusting you so that he supports your legs with his shoulders. 

His lips scatter kisses and marks over the insides of your thighs as he continues to finger you, and not wasting any time, his mouth finds exactly where you need him, lips wrapping around your pearl and sucking as he pushes his fingers in deeper.

“Fuck,” is what leaves your mouth in a hiss, your hand gripping the couch tightly as he starts eating you out with gusto. “C-Chos’…”

He hums, tongue working wonders on you, and you think for a moment that you might actually lose sanity. 

It’s not like he hasn’t done this before. It’s just that you didn’t think he could be so bold. Usually he goes slower, he never really leaves marks, and he sure as hell doesn’t curl his fingers inside you as he’s doing now—but you’re falling even deeper in love with him.

“Oh my god,” a moan leaves your mouth, and he licks a fat stripe up your swollen bud before attacking it again with a kiss. “Choso…”

His free hand finds your breast again, and it’s over soon after that—the way his fingers pinch and tease at your nipple combined with everything else he’s doing sweeps you over the edge swifter than you’re prepared for, and your orgasm slams into you with a cry of his name. 

Or, rather, your first orgasm of the night.

He doesn’t stop there. He straightens up and climbs back between your legs on the couch, kissing you deeply as he lines up. Instead of asking, he takes, driving himself inside of you and making you take him despite the sensitivity of your walls.

You gasp as he begins moving immediately, nails digging into his shoulders. When you clench around him he groans, right in your ear, and you look up at him to see his face flushed prettily, sweat dripping down his forehead.

Another wave of lust for him takes over and you kiss him hard, nails dragging over his back. He mewls into your mouth and picks his pace up, the lewd, wet slap of your skin tell-tale to anyone who may be walking by the front door of your apartment. 

That reminds you…the two of you have never done it on the couch before. He couldn’t wait long enough to get to bed. 

Another one of your flutters around him causes his hips to stutter, and he ducks down, dragging his teeth over your ear before leaning up on his hands above you.

Then, one of them finds the base of your neck. Your lips part as he squeezes gently, focusing more power on the slam of his hips into yours. You feel him deep inside of you, the dull, harsh stretch of him forcing you to accommodate, and your eyes roll to the back of your head, voice reaching octaves you didn’t think you were capable of. 

“I love you,” he breathes, kissing your open mouth, and you shiver from the contrast of his rough-fucking and the gentle declaration of devotion.

“I love you too,” it comes out of your throat like a wrecked sob, and amidst his panting, he reaches down and starts rubbing you in time with his thrusts, doing exactly what you need in order to finish for the second time. 

As soon as you do, you feel him twitch, pressing deep into you to give you his load. Your own body shakes at the feeling, a sense of euphoria washing over you akin to the rush of opium. 

When you open your eyes, his own mahogany ones are looking at you, a loose, dopey smile on his lips.

“Fuck,” you rasp intelligently, and he chuckles, burying his face in your neck.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nod, hugging him close. 

No one is on your mind but him. What else happened today? You can’t remember. You can’t think at all. 

Right now, Choso is your world. 

___

A/N: calm before the storm me thinks. Seriously though, if you're sticking with this and still waiting for the updates, thank you so much, I appreciate you. I still plan to post on AO3, I'm just not sure when I'll have the time. Keep your eyes out for the next update!

You don’t leave your bedroom until Choso has left with Suguru to take him back to his car the next morning. To avoid what would surely be an awkward ‘goodbye’ with the bassist, you simply got in the shower and told Choso not to wait for you. Now, you’re dressed for the day and the apartment is empty.

You look at the stereo that Suguru had played music from last night before you two had danced and almost kissed. It brings butterflies to your stomach and a grimace to your face.

Sighing, you walk into the kitchen and start making yourself breakfast. While you do, you think about how you’re going to talk to Choso.

The whole ‘having kids’ thing he drunkenly brought up last night is still weighing heavy on you. It’s not like you ever were opposed to kids, but right now? It seems too soon. Would that hurt Choso? Or would he even remember that he said all of that?

And then there’s the matter of having almost let Suguru kiss you last night. It seems like everytime he gets close to you, he can’t help but try to cross that line. The worst part is, everytime he pushes and prods, your own resolve weakens.

You run on autopilot through the morning until Choso returns to find you sitting in the living room, half-ass watching your way through one of your favorite comfort shows on the television before you.

“Hey,” He greets softly, locking the door and kicking off his shoes before joining you. His arm winds behind your shoulders intuitively, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “It was weird waking up at a different time than you today. I feel off-kilter.”

The words make your heart flutter. His days are so centered around you that one small disturbance does that much to him?

A pang hits your chest. That just makes what happened last night all the more incriminating. You sigh heavily, fixing him with a fond smile, a tinge of apologeticness in your eyes as you peck his lips.

“It was weird, huh?” You say, laying a hand on his before speaking again. You suppose now is the best time to bring up his words from the night before. “Chos’, do you remember anything you said last night?”

“I…I sort of remember, but details are kind of blurry,” Choso admits, “I think I cried and told you I loved you? I don’t recall much more than that. I hope I didn’t say anything hurtful or do anything to you.”

“No, no of course not,” You say immediately. “It’s just…you said…you said you wanted kids with me. Umm…now, specifically.”

His eyes widen a fraction, and in that small pause, you realize there may have been more truth to his suggestion than you’d previously thought.

“Um,” He says quietly, “What did…what did you say when I said that?”

“I told you we haven’t discussed it before. That we’d talk sober…” you gauge his reaction carefully. He nods stiffly, swallowing thickly.

“…do you…actually want that?” You question after a moment of silence. “I’m not upset either way, Choso, but…I want your honest answer. Do you want kids with me? Now?”

Your boyfriend flounders for a moment, his dark eyes darting from you to the television, to his hands, to you, and down to his hands again as he shifts beside you.

“I…well, I…to be honest, I’ve been thinking about it for a while now…”

You take a breath as it processes. “Yeah? What…what exactly have you been thinking about, in terms of kids?”

“Well, I like the idea of us having a baby together,” Choso says softly, a tender expression on his face. “I’m in love with you, and I never see myself with anyone else. Don’t you want to start putting down roots of our own?”

His hands grab yours, making your heart rate spike. He seems to be serious about this.

“Wait…Choso, you really want a baby?”

He nods. “We’re financially stable and we love each other, what more could we need? We could make a happy home together.”

You have to work hard to stay rational. It’s hard to when your boyfriend is saying such sweet things to you, but you can’t ignore the facts tugging at your psyche.

“Baby,” you begin gently, “I…I am so happy that you want that with me. But I want to be honest too. I haven’t really given kids much thought, and you’re about to get a lot busier with Curse Manipulator. If we had a baby now, I’d be home alone a lot taking care of them alone. You’d be busy with recordings, shows, tours…I don’t know if we’re at a point where we can have a family yet.”

He considers this for a moment before nodding. “You’re right…I don’t want to be an absent father. Neither you nor any of our future kids deserve that. And I also want you with me when we start traveling…I guess I got carried away last night.”

You smile, giving his hand a squeeze. “We can always decide to have kids when we both feel ready, later on. To be fair, you do avoid alcohol because it makes you really emotional. I don’t fault you.”

Your boyfriend laughs sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah, I guess I really shouldn’t drink. Sorry you had to deal with me—I felt so bad Suguru had to lug me up the stairs and sleep on our couch this morning, too.”

At the mention of Suguru, you can’t help the warm wave of nerves that tugs at your stomach. The memories of last night swarm your head, and guilt rises up once more.

But you can’t tell him. It would ruin more than it would help—yes, you know that part of this is just making excuses to save your own ass, but telling Choso how you and Suguru feel about each other will only ruin his career and the band as well. You decided last night that you won’t see Suguru anymore. So, it’s water under the bridge now. You’ve stopped it from rising, and no one will drown as a result.

For a neutral response, you shrug and say, “He wasn’t troubled by it. Didn’t seem annoyed or anything.”

“Good,” He sighs, leaning back on the couch. “He’s a really nice guy. Really kind to you, too. That makes me like him more.”

You don’t know if ‘kind’ is the right word to describe how Suguru acts with you. ‘Tempting’, ‘confounding’, or ‘frustrating’ are more like it. Choso has no idea how Suguru makes you feel, nor about just how much you’ve betrayed his trust for the bassist. Sure, physically you haven’t exactly slept with Suguru, but the moments you two have shared, the words between you, the glances exchanged, the touches given and received…it’s still intimacy.

Honestly, now that you’re thinking about it, your mind is still reeling from the kiss you almost had last night.

So many possibilities had stood on that precipice; how would his lips have felt? How would he have tasted? Would he have pulled you closer? Would you have stopped there, or kept going? How far would the two of you have taken it? All the way? And if you did, what would that have been like? Wild and passionate? Hard and fast? Or slow and taunting? What would he have done to further deteriorate your sanity? Would it have been a one-night stand or would you two have turned it into an affair?

Your mind is racing. Each question stirs up another. You will never know, because he is not yours.

Why does your heart sink at that thought?

You denied him friendship out of a burst of self-control—and denied yourself his affection as well. Self-deception is futile; you know you crave him. Like an addict admitted to rehab, you’ve cut off your supply abruptly, and now it seems like the withdrawals are setting in.

It feels like a breakup. The potential between you two will stay as potential, for the rest of your lives. That is entirely unfair. You see your life with Choso, and you want him by your side forever…

But why do you want Suguru there, not instead, but as well?

___

Two months have passed since that night after the concert. You and Choso are operating smoothly as normal, and he’s successful as ever with Curse Manipulator.

You haven’t spoken to Suguru at all, nor have you seen him.

Time should have made thinking about him easier, but even after all of these weeks, he’s still on your mind constantly. You miss hearing his voice, seeing his face, feeling his touch. It makes you feel crazy, because you’re still so in love with Choso, yet still infatuated with Suguru at the same time.

Was it the right decision to decline his friendship? You aren’t doing any better than if he was around. The fantasies about him haven’t stopped, and sometimes you dream of him.

On a day where Choso is at one of his brother’s houses hanging out, you’re left to your own devices in the apartment. To avoid going stir-crazy, you decide to just do the week’s grocery shopping. It’s five in the evening and maybe not the best time to go, but you keep spiraling over thoughts of Suguru, so you need the distraction.

The trip is going mundanely, your list amost completed when you’re pulled away from your focus.

“Excuse me. I wanted to tell you that you’re really pretty.”

Your eyes flit away from the shelf of canned goods to land on the stranger, a short man with an eager smile on his face.

“Uh…thanks,” is your reply, unsure what to do.

“You got anyone icing that cake of yours?”

The comment is so out of pocket that you just stare, stunned that someone would actually say that out loud.

“Uh—”

“Sorry I took so long, honey. I couldn’t find the tea you asked for.”

A strong arm wraps around your shoulder, the voice of a familiar man registering in your ear. It’s a straight shock to your heart, and you suck in a breath as you turn your head, eyes landing on Suguru’s tight smile, aimed at the strange man that had been hitting on you. Your heart about jumps into your throat. It’s him.

A flood of emotions swarm you, making your knees go weak.

Play along, your instinct tells you, so you obey.

“Oh, that’s okay…babe,” the word feels strange as a label for your boyfriend’s bandmate.

“Is this guy bothering you?” He asks. You glance at the guy, who now looks uncomfortable. Serves the bastard right.

“Yeah.”

“What do you want with my girlfriend?” Suguru questions the man, who raises his hands in defense.

“Look, man, I didn’t know she was—”

“That shouldn’t matter, right? Whether she was taken or not. She’s not interested,” his tone is firm, and the other man just nods, backing away.

“Yeah, yeah—okay. Sorry.”

He turns on his heel and leaves swiftly, finally allowing you to breathe.

Well…sort of.

“Are you okay?” Asks Suguru, his arm sliding off of your shoulder. You will yourself not to react to the touch as you steel yourself.

“Yeah, I’m good. Uh…thanks, Suguru,” you reply, trying to keep your voice even. You feel jumpy and full of unbridled adrenaline. Where did he come from? “How are you here?”

He chuckles at your bluntness. “Well, the grocery store I usually go to is out of Larue’s favorite tea, so I had to come over here instead.”

“Oh…”

His eyes don’t leave yours, and you can’t look away. He’s even more beautiful than you remember.

“Long time no see,” He smiles half-heartedly, trying for nonchalant, then sighs and cuts the act. “Look, I don’t like the way…we parted last time. I’m sorry for overstepping. I…I’ve really missed you, to be honest.”

So, he feels the same? It’s completely mutual. God, that notion has ‘disaster’ written all over it. But you can’t lie to him. You’ve been deprived for too long.

“I…I missed you too.”

Relief flashes through his eyes. “Listen, I don’t want to never see you again. We can be honest about our feelings without making any mistakes, we’re mature adults.”

You look at him for a moment, taking his words into consideration. You want to agree, and at this point, you know that being away from him won’t solve your problem. You like him, and as he said, the two of you should just accept it without acting on it. Maybe then, the flames of desire will calm to mere embers. You’re willing to try it, anyway.

“Yeah…you’re right. We should have a real conversation about this, shouldn’t we?”

He nods. “Why don’t we finish up shopping here first? I doubt the can aisle is where you want to have this discussion.”

You laugh softly at the quip, nodding. “Okay. I have to get my stuff home to the fridge—we can go there. Choso’s with his brothers right now anyway. Are you okay with that?”

“Yeah,” comes his reply, holding up the pack of tea in his hand. “This is all I have, so that’s no problem.”

“Okay,” you nod, grabbing the last item on your list. “Let’s checkout then.”

It’s strange; you never thought you’d be at a grocery store with Suguru. But there you are, paying for your items, probably presenting to all of the strangers around as a couple. It’s domestic, and it makes you feel weird—you don’t hate it. What does that mean?

Especially when he makes a point to carry the bags out to your car for you even though he’s parked somewhere else. It flusters you, but by some miracle, you manage to agree to lead him back to your place since he’s never driven to it from the grocery store.

He follows you in his own car, anticipation filling your veins the closer you get. You’ll be home alone with him, truly this time.

It will be the ultimate test of self-control.

___

A/N: pray for reader's sanity y'all. I'm still planning on cross-posting on AO3 but I was busy so now that I'm back I'll try to get that up. In the meantime, comment here or the masterlist to be added to the taglist!

Please don't copy or repost, but feel free to reblog and share!

Taglist:

The show ends and as soon as the members leave the stage for the roadies to start clearing away the equipment, you meet with Choso and you all make your way back to the dressing room.

Suguru holds the door open for everyone and they all bee-line for the water bottles on the table where the pizza was earlier, the bassist making his way there last as you move to sit on the sofa. You watch as he grabs a bottle and unscrews the cap, tilting his head back to drink.

Oh.

You aren’t prepared for the sight of his exposed neck, his Adam’s apple and the veins near where his shoulders meet the column, the tattoos peeking out from under his shirt, skin sweaty from exertion while performing…

His eyes find yours as he finishes, but your attention is taken from him when Choso sits beside you and hands you an extra water he grabbed. His arm comes around your shoulders, and you turn to look at him instead.

“Doing okay?” He asks you, eyes still shining with concern. You nod, clutching the bottle in both hands.

“I’m fine,” you reply, shaking your head after a moment, “Forget about me. You did amazing up there, Chos’. You’re a natural. Really—it was like I was seeing a celebrity.”

His face heats and he laughs in a huff, looking at his lap. “I don’t know about that, but…”

“Seriously,” you say, wanting him to know just how good he did. “If I wasn’t already dating you I’d have fallen in love in the crowd. I’m sure people did.”

He covers his face with his free hand and groans in embarrassment. “Okay, okay.”

You chuckle, pressing a kiss to his reddened cheek.

Then, you feel the other side of the couch dip, followed by that silky voice that haunts your fantasies.

“How was your first Curse Manipulator show?”

You look to your other side to see Suguru sitting next to you, his back to the armrest so that he can face you, leg on the couch bent so his foot rests on the knee of his other, taking up as much space as he can as per usual. His shin is touching your thigh and it’s playing with the soundness of your mind.

He asked you a question. Answer it before you give yourself away.

“It was amazing,” you say truthfully. “This band is special, seriously.”

The smile on his face remains the same. “How’d I do?”

What? He asked me that in front of Choso?

You swallow thickly, willing yourself not to look at your boyfriend. That would make you look guilty, and you’re not. You haven’t done anything.

Besides let him mark your wrist during a temporary lapse in control…stop. Focus.

“Of course you did great,” you do your best to laugh through it. He grins wider, nodding to himself. He leans against his fist, elbow digging into the cushion beside him. He sobers up and looks at you seriously after a moment.

“How are you doing? That creep didn’t get to you too bad, did he?” Asks Suguru. Choso shifts beside you.

“He didn’t,” Choso answers for you, “Thanks for calling him out.”

“Of course. I think we saw him at the same time,” Suguru replies. He shifts his attention from Choso back to you. “Men can be insufferable sometimes.”

With the way you’re looking at him, you’re the one who feels insufferable, wanting him in the most primal way possible. You also think that he’s talking about himself. He wants you the same way, if that damn mark that seems to be tingling subtly beneath your sleeve under his gaze is anything to go by.

“Yeah, they can,” you agree distractedly. The air seems electric, and the only thing that breaks the trance you’re in is Larue’s voice.

“Who’s ready to party?!” He shouts, causing you to jolt, flitting your eyes back to him. He’s clapping his hands together as Miguel is laughing.

“I got dibs on spinning the tracks first. Venue owner said I could,” Miguel replies, the two making their ways to the door. “You guys coming?”

“Oh, yeah, we’ll join you in a minute,” Suguru replies easily. “Don’t wait on our account.”

“All right,” shrugs Miguel, the two exiting the room.

Choso sighs beside you. “Should I drink tonight?”

You raise a brow. “Do you want to?”

“Yeah,” he admits. “I never do. It would be nice just this once.”

“Sure,” you shrug. You’ve heard from him that he’s sort of a lightweight, but you’ve never seen it yourself. “Just don’t get carried away.”

He smiles at you. “I won’t.”

“Are you bad with alcohol?” Asks Suguru, and Choso hums.

“Yeah. Can’t hold it well,” he answers.

“I see. I don’t really like it,” Suguru replies. He glances at you. “And you?”

“I think I’ll stay sober. Especially since Choso’s going to drink, I’ll be our driver tonight.”

“I see,” Suguru nods, getting off of the couch. “Well, should we go join everyone?”

You nod, standing up with Choso. Your hand interlocks with his, and the three of you head to the house of the venue.

—-

Miguel has good taste in music. The concert-venue-turned-club is lively with people dancing and having fun, dim lighting and the heavy smell of weed and alcohol permeating the air. It’s loud so you can’t really talk, but you and Choso are glued to the bar, your boyfriend nursing his third drink of the night. The two of you don’t really like outings such as this, but out of the two of you, Choso is more out of place. He doesn’t really like to dance like this—provocative grinding, groping in public—the one time you two did dance together in public it was at his cousin’s wedding a few months ago, wherein you waltzed together.

You don’t really favor the idea of clubbing, but you wouldn’t mind it if you trusted the person you were with. Choso wouldn’t want to do it, and since he doesn’t, you don’t dwell on joining in. Sticking to the bar is fine.

What isn’t fine is the sight of Suguru at the edge of the crowd a little ways away from you, dancing with some woman who approached him when the current song began. His hands are on her waist but his eyes are on you, and it’s doing very sinful things to you. Taunting you. Beckoning you. Provoking you.

He keeps her facing away from himself, their bodies pressed together, and the sight makes your blood boil. You want him off of her. You want him on you instead, to be dancing with him, to feel his body against yours, his arms around you, his breath on your ear—

It’s insane.

How are you getting jealous over a man who isn’t your boyfriend?

It’s not like you have any sort of claim on him. You have no right. And yet, when the woman makes a very obvious, lewd movement against him while she turns to whisper in his ear you grimace, turning away pointedly. You don’t look at him again.

Another few songs pass, Choso downs another drink, and that’s when your boyfriend leans over to speak to you.

“I have to run to the bathroom,” he says, “I’m gonna go get Suguru to be with you while I’m gone. I don’t want to leave you alone.”

Your heart starts racing. “Uh…”

“I’ll be back.”

Before you can stop him, he’s making his way over to his bandmate. You blink mindlessly, watching them talk, and then Suguru is politely parting with the girl he was with, moving towards you while Choso heads the other direction.

Suguru settles right next to you once he’s there, an easy smile across his features.

“Hey,” he greets, and you see it more than hear it due to the volume of the music.

“Hi.”

His eyes run over you for a second before he leans back. He sighs heavily, as if words that were on the tip of his tongue are fizzling out, and he takes another moment of consideration before moving closer so you can hear him.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

Your breath hitches nervously at his proximity, his face only a few breaths away, and against your better judgment, you steal a long glance, admiring the perfect structure of his features shamelessly.

“Is there something on my face?” He asks with a grin, and you blink a few times to get your head back on.

“No, no…”

“Then what is it?” He still has that content, easy expression on his face.

“You’re pretty.”

His eyebrows raise and you watch his eyes widen a fraction, lips parting in slight shock. Then, he laughs bashfully, eyes turning into crescents, and you feel your ribcage starting to melt.

“I’ve heard hot or sexy, but never ‘pretty’,” he says, eyeing you mirthfully. “I take that as the highest form of compliment.”

So, other people have voiced their thoughts on him, have flirted—who, you wonder. And how did he take it? Was he flattered? Did he flirt back?

“What’d that girl you were dancing with tell you that you were?” You ask boldly, shocked to hear those words bear the contours of your voice. His lips turn up in a smirk.

“Are you sure you want me to answer that question truthfully?” It’s said lowly, and coupled with his lidded eyes, you feel heat twist in your gut. Now you’re intrigued.

“I’m curious now.”

His lips tug up further at a corner before he leans forward even more, pressing his mouth to your ear. Your eyes flutter closed automatically, body subconsciously leaning into his. “She said I felt big.”

Despite the hot stuffy air of the room, suddenly your body is ravaged with goosebumps. Your breath escapes you, and as his eyes meet yours again, you feel certain he’s taken a few years off of your life span with his existence.

“You’re driving me insane,” you breathe, the words out before you can stop them, and it must be the type of response he’s looking for because he reaches up and touches your cheek with the tips of his fingers, holding your eyes with his stare.

“Trust me, the feeling is mutual.”

You inhale slowly, just sizing him up for a long moment. Around you, people are dancing, grinding, drinking, moving and yet everything feels so still. All you see is Suguru right now, and you don’t want him to stop touching you.

Your eyes flit down to his mouth, silver rings glinting against the dim lighting, and you watch his mouth pull into a smile.

“You never answered my question from earlier, love.”

That term of endearment punches through your diaphragm, knocking the wind out of you. Love. He called you love.

He asked you a question earlier. What was it? What is he talking about? Why is it so hot, all of a sudden? You need to cool off.

A drink. He asked if you wanted a drink.

“Oh, uh, no,” you shake your head, “I’m driving Choso home, remember?”

Choso. Fuck.

You back up, sense returning to you as you remember who you are and who you’re with.

Suguru’s smile falls slightly as you put distance between the two of you, and he makes a move to get closer again. Out of the corner of your eye you see a familiar frame, and turn out on instinct, abruptly making Suguru aware of Choso’s approaching figure.

He stills and stays put in his spot, looking over as Choso gets closer. As he comes into view, you notice tears in his eyes.

Your heart drops. You and Suguru had just been close enough to kiss. You’re certain that given one wrong move, you would have kissed. Did he see? Does he know about whatever you have going on with Suguru?

You turn to look back at Suguru, fear shining through your eyes, and he instantly turns towards your boyfriend, alert now. Whether he’s preparing to remedy the situation or lie completely, you don’t know, but Choso sees you and hurries over, hands outstretched for you.

“Baby,” he sniffles as soon as you’re within earshot, grabbing you and pulling you in. You let him, stunned and confused. You don’t think he’d react this way if he had seen, so what is it?

“What, honey?” You ask, cupping his face in concern. “Why are you crying, Chos’?”

“I just love you so much,” he blubbers, eyeliner running down his cheeks. “I do, I really do…”

It registers what’s going on. He’d told you before that he can’t hold his liquor well at all. He rarely drinks because of that. You’ve never seen him so smashed—he must be an emotional drunk. It must have really kicked in while he was separated from you.

“Oh,” you exhale in relief, realizing he doesn’t seem to know about the…thing between you and Suguru, “I love you too, baby.”

“Thank you,” he sniffles, peppering your face with kisses. His weight is being pushed on you and it makes you stumble with the effort to hold him up. “Thank you so much…”

“Is he okay?”

You turn to look at Suguru, who is watching worriedly. Choso hiccups and looks up at Suguru, nodding profusely.

“Yes. Yeah, everything is amazing,” he sobs, “I’m so happy…I’m so in love…”

He kisses your cheek again, putting more of his weight on you and you stumble to balance it. Suguru takes action and wraps one of Choso’s arms around his shoulders to hold him up, taking the pressure off of you.

Choso clings to your waist with the other hand, leaning on you with his head, getting tears on your neck. He can’t even stand—it’s time to leave. Any longer and he’ll probably pass out right here.

“He’s really drunk,” you tell Suguru. “Help me get him to the car. I have to take him home.”

Suguru nods, and the three of you trudge to the main door, weaving through the people to leave the pounding music behind.

As soon as you’re out you take a breath, sighing contentedly as fresh air hits your system. You hadn’t realized just how stuffy it was.

Choso makes a noise in the back of his throat and starts scattering more kisses over your face, making the three of you stagger for balance.

“Choso,” you say, trying to ground him, “Choso, let’s sit down, okay?”

He nods, allowing Suguru to help him to sit on the curb, feet in front of himself over the pavement. You look up at Suguru, who is watching you two silently. You can’t leave Choso like this, and you don’t really want to be alone in this area either.

“Did you drink yet?” You ask him.

“No.”

“Can you get my things, bring my car around, and help me get him into it?”

The bassist nods without hesitation. “Is it all in your bag back in the dressing room?”

“Yeah. You…you know my car, right?” How could he not?

He grins slyly, knowing exactly what you’re thinking, and nods. “I do. I’ll be back.”

You watch him go back inside, turning all of your attention to your boyfriend. He’s gazing at you like you hung all of the stars in his drunken stupor.

He says your name, and you reach up to brush a strand of matted hair from his forehead. “Yeah?”

“I’m a good big brother, aren’t I?”

The question catches you off-guard. You know his brothers, of course, you’ve met all ten of them and even have good relationships with a few. His youngest brother, Yuuji, is just adorable, and gushes about Choso all of the time.

“Of course you’re a good big brother. You’re a great big brother,” you answer, not sure where he’s going with it. “Why?”

“In that case…d’you think I’d make a good father?”

Your eyebrows raise in surprise. “Oh…well…yes, I don’t see why not.”

He smiles tenderly at you. “I want to have kids with you.”

Your jaw drops. What?

You’ve never talked about kids before. Ever. Is he just so drunk that he’s talking out of his ass, or does he mean it? You find it hard to believe he’d just be saying that, even like this.

“You do?”

“I really do,” he nods in confirmation, starting to ramble through his tears, “We should start tonight. We can have ten like my parents did. Or more. I love you so much, we can have a huge family—”

“Choso,” you interrupt him with a hand on his cheek. “Slow down, okay? It’s okay.”

He sniffles. “D'you not want them with me?”

You’re at a loss. You honestly haven’t thought about kids a ton. Tonight is the last night you’d have expected a conversation like this to come up.

“Chos’, we haven’t talked about it before,” you say softly. “It’s a big decision.”

He starts to cry more. “I’m sorry. I’m too emotional right now…but I just love you…”

You grunt in surprise as he thuds his forehead against your chest, clinging to you tightly. For a minute he just cries, and you pet his hair soothingly, unsure of what to do. He is an emotional guy—he cries during sad movies, sometimes even when he sees a video of cute puppies or kittens. But this is different. You can see why he steers clear of alcohol.

“I love you too,” you reply, kissing his hair. “I’m here, Choso, don’t worry.”

He nods, hugging you closer as he just lets it out.

You stay like that until Suguru brings the car around, parking it in front of you and getting out.

“Okay, let’s go home, babe,” you tell Choso, and he nods blearily.

Suguru helps you get Choso into the backseat, lifting his strong body from the ground and guiding him in. You buckle your boyfriend in and then close the door, sighing heavily.

“Thanks,” you tell Suguru as he drops the keys into your hand.

“Any time,” he tells you easily. “Are you gonna be able to get him to your place okay? He’s probably going to pass out."

You hadn’t thought about that. You won’t be able to get Choso out of the car alone, and he’s already looking ready to doze off.

“Yeah…I probably won’t be able to.”

“Want me to come with you?” Asks Suguru.

Letting him into your home with a belligerent Choso is not a good idea, but you don’t have a choice. You do need his help.

“Sure. Uh, please.”

And that’s how you end up driving home with not only your boyfriend in the backseat, but also with Suguru beside you on the passenger’s side.

The first part of the ride is quiet save for the low music on your speakers, Choso snoozing away behind you. You keep glancing back at him through the rear-view mirror, unable to stop thinking about what he’d said to you on the curb of the venue.

About halfway through, Suguru speaks up at a low volume.

“You look troubled, and you keep sighing,” he says to you. “What’s on your mind?”

You glance at him quickly, more of those confusing feelings bubbling up in your chest. He looks so good next to you in the car, waiting on your answer.

It wouldn’t be fair to talk to him about this before you’ve even processed it, let alone Choso. This is between the two of you, anyway. You don’t feel right delving into such an intimate topic with Suguru, so you opt to deflect.

“Just a lot happened tonight,” you shrug, “I mean, the concert was…eventful.”

“Right,” Suguru sighs, “I saw him bothering you, and…I don’t know, I just got upset. I spoke up before I could think—I’m sorry, by the way, for drawing attention to you like that. I could tell you were uncomfortable.”

You definitely weren’t expecting him to have picked up on that.

“Oh, well…I mean, it was a lot of attention, but if you hadn’t, who knows what he would have done?” You reply, “Thank you for that.”

“No need to thank me,” Suguru runs a hand through his hair, “Guys like that only think with their second heads.”

It takes a pause, but once what he said registers, you can’t help but snort, which quickly bubbles up into a giggle. The next thing you know, the two of you are sharing a laugh, some of the tension dissolving from your shoulders.

You realize you’ve never heard his laugh before. It’s so pretty—like deep, smooth wind chimes. You chance a glance away from the road at him to see his smile, and god, is it breathtaking? You want to see him like this all of the time.

Oh god, are you developing a crush on him?

That can’t be, it’s pure lust you feel for him. Not actual feelings. That’s all. You shake the thoughts away and compose yourself, focusing back on the road.

“I think most guys think with their second heads,” you reply, and he huffs in amusement.

“Maybe. But there are some that think with their hearts, instead.”

You draw in a breath, looking at him again. He smiles earnestly at you this time, and it makes your heart feel twenty degrees hotter than the rest of your body.

“Yeah, there are,” you reply noncommittally, rushing to steer the subject away from where it’s headed. You won’t flirt with Suguru while your drunk boyfriend is passed out behind you. “So…what got you into music?”

He hums, giving you a look. “Curved me quick, didn’t you?”

Your face gets hot instantly at his tone. “No, well, I mean—”

“I’m teasing,” He chuckles softly. “I don’t mind. I got into it in high school. It’s a little bit of a sad thing, really—my family moved around a lot, so I never had the chance to make friends with anyone. I turned to music to cope with the loneliness.”

You nod understandingly, flitting your eyes to him for a moment before asking, “Why’d you move so much?”

Suguru looks at you for a moment before saying, “My mom was a single mother. Well, she was, after my father left us when I was eight. He was addicted to gambling and never did anything to help around the house, so she was my sole caretaker anyway. He was awful—but that’s a different story,” he laughs quietly. “Anyway, she had a boyfriend after that, and he turned out to be obsessive and weird, so we had to move. I left my only friend behind, then. Her ex-boyfriend followed us around and we had to keep moving, it was this whole thing…”

He trails off, leaning on his knuckles against the window. You reach a red stoplight and look at him again, noticing the far-away glint in his eyes.

Without thinking, you reach over to place your hand on his leg to comfort him, earning you an appreciative smile from him. He covers your hand with his own, giving it a gentle pulse, and it makes your heart flutter.

The light turns green, glow cast upon his moon-kissed skin, and you turn back to face the dash, retracting your hand.

“Uh,” you begin, trying to minimize the tension suddenly between the two of you. “That’s…”

“Sad, I know,” He shrugs. “But I’ve come to terms with it. He left us alone after I had my growth spurt and decided to confront him head-on.”

Your brows raise. “Yeah? Did you…fight?”

“He was waiting for us in front of our apartment building,” Suguru explains, “Mom and I saw him getting back from school, so I got out of the car and basically told him if he didn’t fuck off, I’d break his legs.”

“No way,” You reply, glancing at him incredulously. “You said that? You weren’t afraid he had a weapon?”

“I guess I didn’t care,” Suguru answers, “My whole life, I’d been running, and struggling. So I figured if it ended badly, it didn’t matter.”

“Hmm,” you hum in amusement. “So…he listened, then?”

“The punch I threw after he tried hitting me first was pretty persuasive.”

Your mouth drops in shock. “You punched him?”

“Yeah, I did,” He says in a laugh.

“Wow. I didn’t take you for the violent type.”

“Well, I’m not violent, per say—that was the only time I got to that point. I’m very patient. But it was worn thin, back then. I’d had enough, and it was wearing my mother down, especially. I wanted to protect her, and I’m glad I did. After that, we stopped moving, I finished high school, performed on my own, met some people including Miguel, Larue, and our former bassist, Sukuna, and the rest is history.”

You consider his words, nodding for a moment. “That makes sense. That’s good that things became somewhat normal, after that.”

He shifts in his seat. “You know…I guess that’s partly why I got so upset when I saw that guy bothering you.”

It’s like he commands the beat of your heart. As soon as he says that, you feel it start to pound in your chest.

“You’re protective.”

“I am,” He agrees. “I’m just glad I could do something.”

You flash him a grateful smile, the car continuing to coast along the road at a pleasant speed.

“I’ve talked enough about me,” He says. “Tell me about yourself.”

The change in topic pulls a laugh out of you. “That’s pretty broad. What do you want to know?”

“Well, you told me about what you do for work back at Choso's audition. I guess…hobbies? Favorite movie, show, color, food, season?”

You snort quietly, deciding to play along. “Okay…”

You proceed to list off the answers to his questions in order, smiling at the nod of approval he gives you. “I see. Hmm…tell me about your family. Are you close? Who are the most important people in your life?”

The question is so intimate, it makes you feel a bit self-conscious. Still, it’s also really flattering that he’s so genuinely interested in you, so you answer him truthfully.

As you divulge in what is essentially your own backstory, he nods and listens, only humming on occasion. It carries on for the duration of the car ride, ending with, “…and that’s how Choso and I got together. He’s one of the most important people in my life, for obvious reasons.”

“Huh, I see. That’s a sweet story,” He replies, “You know, he talks about you a lot. I can tell he really loves you. It’s like you’re the center of his universe.”

A rush of warmth fills your chest, and you glance into the rearview-mirror, smiling softly as he continues sleeping away, out like a light.

“I can’t blame him,” Suguru tells you. “I’d act the same way, if you were mine.”

He says it so casually, it takes a moment for you to remember yourself relative to the statement. As soon as you do, you also realize that you’re turning onto your street.

You try a lighthearted response. “Oh? Am I that special?”

“Yeah, you are.”

He says it so sincerely, there’s no room for jokes. You just sigh, pulling the car up to the curb in front of your place.

“This is it?” He asks, looking out of the window as you put it into park and take the key from the ignition.

“Yeah,” you answer, unbuckling and grabbing your bag, stepping out of the driver’s seat. “Come on, let’s get him up to bed.”

Suguru obeys, getting out of the car and moving to get your boyfriend.

He ducks to grab Choso’s arm, tugging him towards the door and bending his knees to pull him onto his back, draping him across. He holds onto his wrists to steady him, standing up straight with a labored huff.

You try desperately not to notice the strain of his muscles but you fail instantly. As he kicks the door closed gently, you take a deep breath, turning away to lock the car.

“Okay,” you say, “Follow me.”

The two of you head towards the destination, keeping quiet so as not to disturb neighbors. Soon, you get inside, and after you lock the front door closed, you lead Suguru to your bedroom, where he eases Choso off of his back. Your boyfriend goes limply, laying facing up.

“Thanks,” you tell Suguru. “I’ll clean him up a little. Wait for me in the living room?”

Suguru gives you a smile. “I’ll be there.”

With that, he exits the room, leaving you to take care of Choso. You turn to look at your boyfriend, deciding to deal with his shoes first. After that, you ease into a rhythm, getting him out of his socks and pants.

Next, you take his hair from their ties, massaging the top of his head to relieve some of the strain. He grumbles in his sleep, leaning into your touch, and your gaze softens.

His eyelashes flutter, and then he’s blinking them open.

“Hey,” you greet quietly, “We’re home now. Suguru helped me get you here.”

He sniffles, groaning before he speaks gravely, “I feel like death.”

“That’s the last time you get hammered, Chos’,” you sigh, and he nods deliriously.

“…won’t ‘nymore,” he croaks, and you lean down, pecking his forehead. The furrow in his brow smoothes out, and within a minute, his breathing turns even and he’s asleep once more.

You sigh, deciding to just clean his makeup off—if he wakes up again, he can properly get under the covers himself. Moving to the bathroom, you grab a makeup wipe and wet a washcloth with warm water, padding back into your room to clean your boyfriend’s face up.

Once it’s free of sweat and eyeliner streaks, you throw the wipe away and toss the cloth into your hamper, taking a moment to gaze at your boyfriend from near the door.

What he’d said earlier returns to you. Wanting children with you—was he really being serious? It just doesn't seem feasible. He’s about to take off with the band. If you got pregnant now, you’d basically be a single mother. You wouldn’t be able to go everywhere with him. The kids would only see him when he’s not busy. Is that a life that you want? One where he gets to go off and be some famous star, and you stay home and take care of the kids?

You sigh. It sounds so nineteen-fifties-nuclear-family. Maybe kids would be nice, but with the lifestyle you two are about to live, it changes things. You don’t know if that’s what you want for yourself, and up until tonight, you had no clue Choso was even considering kids like that. Until you can talk sober, there’s no point in ruminating on it, you suppose. You’ll just have to be honest with your uncertainty when the conversation comes up.

All you know for sure is that you love him, and that he loves you. Anything else between you, the two of you can work out.

With that, you decide to table the thoughts for now so that you can wrap the night up with Suguru. You reach into your pocket, checking the time, way past midnight. You’re not going to drive Suguru all the way back to his car where it is at the venue. You’re tired and it’s pretty far away. Making him call a ride service sounds wrong, too. He could stay the night, right? That’s fine. You could set him up on the couch with blankets and a pillow. There are extra toiletries in the bathroom you have in the hall.

Taking a breath, you grab the blanket from the foot of your bed as well as a pillow from your side before exiting the bedroom, closing the door behind you.

You walk down the hall and find him near the bookshelf you have stacked with CDs, records, and cassettes. ‘Acquainted’ by The Weeknd is playing at a low volume on the stereo on the table beside it. He hears you walk in and turns to face you, a chuckle leaving his lips once he takes in the sight of the items in your hands.

“Are we having a sleepover?” He grins, watching you put them down on the couch.

“Well, I figured it was too late anyway. You can just stay here for the night—we have a bathroom with extra stuff in the hall, you can use any of the things there,” You say.

“Really? Do you guys have a lot of guests?”

“Not a lot, just, Choso has a lot of brothers and especially his youngest stays over sometimes, forgets things,” you shrug.

“Ah, I see,” he nods, then gestures to your music collection. “You have really good taste.”

You snort. “Thanks. Half of it’s Choso’s, but I guess we have pretty similar preferences.”

“Yeah? All the time?”

“Like, in general? Or with music?”

“In general.”

You shift on your feet. “Well, a lot, anyways.”

Suguru hums, folding his arms across his chest, seeming to consider something. “Why didn’t you dance tonight?”

You aren’t expecting the question, so when he asks, you sort of flounder for a second.

“Well,” you begin, “It’s not really Choso’s thing, and I don’t mind, so we just didn’t.”

“You don’t mind?” He asks, “But…you would have liked to?”

How can he see through you like that?

“Sort of…”

He clicks a button on the stereo, and the song starts over. He turns the volume up slightly next.

“You seemed like you were missing out tonight,” Suguru says as he walks towards you, crossing the room quickly. “It was a shame Choso wasn’t dancing with you.”

He sidles up to your front, smiling at you warmly.

“Dance with me.”

You draw in a breath, the feelings you have for him that you’ve suppressed in order to take care of Choso coming back tenfold. Like this, you become aware of just how close you two are, in a room all alone together, Choso out cold in bed. The potential is maddening. Still…it’s not a good idea.

“I don’t know…”

“It’s just a dance,” shrugs Suguru, that damn smirk he makes good use of drawn up over his lips again. “I can tell you want to. Please? You’ve had to deal with a drunk creep and then a hammered boyfriend. Just have some fun with me before bed.”

Have some fun with me before bed. That’s going to be the new one-liner for your fantasies later, you’re absolutely sure of it.

You gaze at Suguru’s face, eyes sincere and kind. How can you refuse? He’s right. You want to dance with him.

You should have some fun—it’s innocent enough. Just a dance. It should be fine.

“Okay,” you nod, and he grins at you, taking your hand and leading you to the center of the living room. His hands find your waist, pulling you so close you have no choice but to rest your palms on his chest. You share the same air, now.

“I saw you getting jealous back there,” Suguru says softly, the two of you moving to the beat slowly.

“Jealous?”

“When I was dancing with the girl,” He replies, eyeing you mirthfully. “The truth is, I wanted to make you jealous.”

You swear your heart slams against your ribcage. Heat floods your system at the words, made worse when he pulls you against him, your fronts pressed together. You can feel him everywhere and it’s short-circuiting your brain.

“Well, you were successful.”

He chuckles lowly and you swear it vibrates in your own ribcage like thunder.

“I want you to know, you’re the only one I want.”

Your breath stutters on its way out. How can he continue to say things like that to you?

“Suguru…”

“You can feel it, can’t you?” He asks, “The potential between us?”

You force yourself to breathe, barely paying attention to your dancing now. His eyes are reaching into your soul. You thank your past self for deciding not to drink, because if you had, you’d have probably kissed him by now. Instead, you cling to your wits.

“I’m not going to hurt him. You know I love him, Suguru.”

“I know,” he agrees, “But I still want you.”

“You shouldn’t,” you say, feeling your resolve start to crumble. He’s right here. Touching you, breathing the same air—you could give in right now and have him on the couch. You could finally answer all of the questions you have about what he’s like, what you’d be like getting intimate with him…

He searches your eyes while you let your thoughts run wild. “Push me away if you don’t want this.”

Confused, you furrow your brows. “What?”

But he doesn’t give a verbal response. He just leans in, pressing his nose to yours. That’s when you realize that he’s moving to kiss you. Your breath hitches as his top lip brushes against yours, hot air fanning over your mouth—

You have a boyfriend, for fucks’ sake, you need to stop.

By the grace of your willpower, you turn around at the last second, facing your back to his front. His hands stay on your waist, lips finding your ear as he corrects his position.

“We both know you want me too.” It’s said under his breath, deeply, and your eyes flutter shut as your movements to the music become less rhythmic and more sensual. He's barely fazed by the way you had dodged him.

“Just dance with me,” you tell him in hopes of distracting him, covering his hands with your own. He leans his head against yours, sighing beside you.

“I think I‘ll show you what she was talking about.”

You’re perplexed for a second before he presses himself flush into you, the outline of his member bluntly felt against your body. You shudder—she was right. He does feel big. That time in his kitchen wasn’t an exaggeration after all.

“Fuck,” you swear under your breath, and he slides his hands from your waist to your hips, then back up. The touch automates a response from your own body. You grind back on him, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as you feel even more of him. He responds by squeezing your waist, stamping a peck to your ear. He feels firmer; his body is reacting to yours and the notion makes you dizzy.

You shiver, leaning away as he plants more chaste kisses along the line of your jaw, giving him more room.

Maybe it’s the late hour making your judgment waver, but lust starts possessing you like an eager demon, and when he gently guides you to turn back around, his lips ghosting over yours—

"I love you so much." Choso's voice echoes in your mind suddenly, like a flare in the dark.

Abruptly, you pull away, cutting the passionate exchange short and putting distance between the two of you. It’s like your head suddenly reattaches to your body.

You feel your heart breaking—how could you do this?

Choso had just been gushing about you earlier, proclaiming his love for you and wanting kids with tears streaking down his face, and here you are, so close to giving in to some sort of fucked up lust for his bandmate.

Suguru sees the anguish on your face and speaks up.

“It was me. I’m sorry. I pushed and got carried away,” he sucks in a breath, running a hand through his hair. “I…I know I’m probably not welcome here anymo—”

“I’m going to bed,” you choose to say, looking away. “Just stay the night. Choso…can take you back tomorrow.”

The room is silent for a moment save for the music, deathly still, tension so thick one could cut through it.

Suguru says your name, and you meet his eyes, so many mixed emotions swirling inside of you. Regret, desire, sadness, longing, disappointment in yourself—it’s too much.

“I’m sorry,” he says again. “I shouldn’t have tried to kiss you. Forgive me, please.”

You don’t even know what to say. You can’t believe you almost did that.

“I didn’t mean to make things—”

“Well, what did you mean to do?” You lash out, surprising even yourself. You’re upset, mostly with your own actions, but rationality is no longer a factor here. “I told you I wouldn’t cheat, and you keep pushing.”

He frowns. “I know. It’s my fault—I’m sorry.”

Neither of you move, and it feels like a sort of stand-off. He eyes you for a moment before sighing, brushing his hair back.

“He deserves you. I don’t,” he tells you, pain in his gaze. “I won’t do anything like that again, I’m okay with just being friends with you. Can we?”

You do think he’s cool, and he’s kind to you, as well. He protected you at the concert tonight along with your boyfriend. He bore his soul to you in the car, and you feel like the two of you really would be great friends, if it weren’t for the mess of confusing feelings you’ve tangled each other in.

You know having him around will always cause problems. You’re always going to want him, and he’s always going to want you. At some point you both will cross even more lines you shouldn’t, and your relationship as well as the band will get caught in the crossfire. You can’t let that happen.

“I’m sorry, Suguru,” you sigh heavily, “But we shouldn’t see each other again. You know it’s not a good idea.”

His face falls even further, and it shatters the already fragmented pieces of your heart. “But, I don’t want to lose you.”

It stings. But you need to drive the point home. You can’t lose Choso—he’s your boyfriend, not Suguru.

“You can’t lose what you don’t have.”

You know that it lands exactly where it needs to—you’ve never seen a man break before, but the way he just crumbles before you in his eyes makes you feel even worse than you already do.

“I’m sorry. Just…sorry.”

With that, you turn and walk up your hallway, entering the bedroom you share with your boyfriend. You couldn’t bear to stay in that room with the aftermath of your mistakes any longer. The door shuts behind you and you lock it, feeling a lump form in your throat.

Choso is still completely comatose, breathing heavily, and you walk over to him and soothe hair from his face. The tears finally spill down your cheeks, a million apologies fused into each one of them. You want the ground to just swallow you up so that Choso doesn’t have to be with someone so unfaithful and untrustworthy. You let Suguru touch you, and you almost kissed him twice. Choso would never do that to you with someone else, how could you do it to him?

You don’t know where things will go from here. Will you tell him? Will you keep it a secret? Lying to him forever can’t be good—but can you be brave enough to tell him the truth? Could you bear it if he leaves?

There’s so many thoughts in your head, so much self-deprecation you feel sick.

“I love you, Chos’,” you murmur, placing a kiss on his brow. His lips curl up in a gentle smile, and it makes you feel all sorts of wrong. Even in sleep, he loves you completely. You abused that tonight, and there’s no mitigating that.

Without a doubt, you know that you’re in for a very long, sleepless night.

---

A/N: things are awkward between you now...what will happen next? Thanks for all the support, I'm so happy you're enjoying this! I'm going to be cross-posting to AO3 soon so look out for that!

Please don't copy or repost, but feel free to reblog and share!

The next time that you see Suguru, it’s backstage at the venue that Curse Manipulator is playing. Choso was required to be there early for rehearsal, and seeing as you were going to the show later on, you figured you would just go along with him instead of taking separate cars, especially since afterwards the band is planning to stay for the after party hosted by the venue owner.

You’re dressed appropriately for a concert and party, but are wearing one of Choso’s zip-up hoodies to downplay the outfit for casualty’s sake while rehearsal is going on.

Though it’s been three weeks since you last saw Suguru, naturally he’s been on your mind everyday since. It’s been the same story—you’ll think about him, let your thoughts run wild, and have to take care of your frustration either alone or with Choso. You have new material to work with. His hot breath on your lips, the smell of his cologne, the feeling of him pressed up against you…it’s all delicious aid to your personal torture.

As such, you’re excited and nervous to see him again. Your dynamic with him is so strange; you two are aware of your mutual attraction, but equally as aware of how forbidden it is. You keep up formalities with each other but you feel like the both of you are constantly on the edge, just waiting for a single sign, for someone to make a move so that the dam holding you back can break.

That thought scares you.

You don’t want to hurt Choso. That is the last thing you would ever aim to do. He’s the love of your life.

Suguru is just different. He causes you to waver as if your resolve is non-existent around him. You love Choso and you want Suguru. It’s not like you’d ever trade your boyfriend for him. You just. You want him too. You want your cake and to eat it too, you suppose. Which is a very dumb and immature line of thinking, you’re painfully aware of, but it’s just how you rationalize things.

When you walk into the dressing room the band is using, you are not prepared for the sight that greets you.

Suguru sits on the leather couch, legs spread wide, arms out on either side of him, absolutely no shirt on his body. Your mind doesn’t know what to register first. His shape, his tattoos, his piercings. He’s fit—like, really fit. You knew his biceps were thick from the t-shirt he wore last time you saw him, but he also has a really built chest, pecs sculpted and muscular, and his abs are well-defined—they look as decadent as a damn chocolate bar.

His nipples are pierced as you had suspected last time, little silver bars running through each bud. You wonder if he’s sensitive there, if it hurt, if he liked that, if he likes getting touched there—

His tattoos undulate over his creamy, smooth skin, contrasting beautifully with it, flowers and dragons and pretty calligraphy in both English and Japanese, a few touches of blue amongst the black—

This is your own personal, very heavenly hell. Or a hellish heaven. You can’t decide. All of that information hits you at once and you’re reeling from it as you and Choso enter the room. It’s a miracle you’re still standing.

You think that you deserve a whole fucking reward for not collapsing on the spot.

“Hey,” Suguru greets, completely unashamed of his position. God, he’s taking up the entire room with his presence. It’s stifling, you can’t breathe.

“Hi,” Choso greets, unfazed and oblivious to your inner turmoil as he lets go of your hand to remove his guitar case from his shoulder and rest it against the wall. “Are the others here?”

“Yeah, Larue and Miguel just went to get snacks but they should be back soon,” Suguru answers. Only then do you notice the other two aren’t in the room. Damn. The bassist turns his gaze onto you and smiles. “It’s nice to see you again.”

You wish the ground would swallow you up right now. How can you be around him when he’s like this?

You have to dig really deep to summon the willpower to keep a level demeanor.

“Yeah, nice to see you,” you respond as evenly as you can, hurriedly walking to an empty chair and sitting in it. You feel better being off your feet.

Choso comes behind you and lays an arm around your shoulder.

“Baby, I’m gonna run to the bathroom really quick. Will you be okay for a few?”

You look up at him.

No, don’t leave me here alone. I can’t trust myself.

“Yeah, go ahead,” you force a smile on your face. You can’t protest without giving yourself away.

“Okay,” he responds, planting a kiss on your temple before padding to the door and exiting. The door clicks shut, and just like that, it becomes hot as an inferno in the room.

Suguru is up and out of his seat, moving over to you and kneeling—kneeling—in front of you.

“Hey,” he smiles with his lidded eyes, peeking up at you as they glimmer, a slyness to his expression. “I missed you.”

There’s no way he just said that to you. You swallow thickly, a strained smile on your lips, trying for nonchalant. “We’ve met twice.”

“You don’t feel the same way?”

His right hand, decorated with his usual rings, touches your left, sending shockwaves through your system. You’ve dreamt about him on his knees in front of you and it feels like reality is collapsing now that it’s coming true. Your desires are fighting with your rationality.

“It’s that neither of us should feel this way,” you say, deciding to just be honest. You need to have this conversation with him before you two fuck the band and your relationship up.

“I know,” he sighs, fingers gently brushing over your knuckles. Sparks scatter up your skin from where he’s touching you. “I don’t know what it is. I know it’s unwise. But I can’t stop thinking about you.”

You breathe in slowly. You have to say what you need to say. “Choso is my boyfriend. We can’t do anything about this. He loves being in this band and I don’t want to ruin it.”

Suguru nods earnestly, grabbing your fingers and pulling your hand towards himself. He holds your eyes as he presses his lips to your first knuckle, kissing it.

Your heart does a flip. The metal and soft skin make for an intoxicating combination.

“I know. And I like him. He fits the band perfectly and I think we can be a huge success with him,” Suguru tells you, kissing the next knuckle. Heat pulses from his mouth to between your legs, and you desperately try to maintain control. “I don’t want to hurt him, either. I know that he’s a good guy, and given getting to know him more, we could become really good friends.”

His words and actions are saying different things.

“Then why…why are you doing this?” You ask him breathlessly as he pecks another knuckle.

“I can’t stop,” he answers honestly. “I’ve never wanted someone as bad as I want you. And it’s difficult to even want to try stopping when I know you want me too.”

You take another deep breath. You need to tell him the brutal truth. “I won’t leave him for you. I love him.”

He doesn’t flinch. “I know that. I wouldn’t ask you to.”

That throws you for a loop. “Okay…well, I’m also not going to cheat on him with you.”

“I also don’t want that.”

“…you don’t?” Is he playing mind games? Or is he just as confounded by this attraction as you are?

He nods distractedly, turning your hand over and pushing your sleeve up. His lips brush over the inner part of your wrist and it’s so sensitive it has you gasping involuntarily.

Then, he flicks his tongue out and licks right over your vein, the stud in the center of it running right along the outline of it.

“Suguru,” you can’t stop yourself from exhaling, nerves alight with pleasure. You swear you see his pupils dilate at the sound and as if possessed by desire, he does it again, holding your eyes, and you give him a strained moan, caught in your throat, nails of your free hand digging into the armrest beneath it. He kisses the spot, closing his lips around it and sucking.

“Oh my god,” you hiss, taking your unoccupied hand and threading it in his loose hair, watching his mouth work over your wrist like a vampire in need of sustenance.

His mouth feels like paradise. The metal of the rings on his lips, the stud scraping against your thin flesh, the wet heat, the lewd sounds coming from his mouth that could easily be him devouring something else entirely—

His free hand snakes up the inside of your bare thigh and starts rubbing circles over it. Your mouth falls open, disbelief and bliss taking you in a chokehold. It’s almost painful how fast blood rushes downward, wetness pooling at your core.

You cannot be doing this right now. Any longer and he’ll have his hand where you need him yet can’t have him.

“Suguru,” you yank your sanity back like it’s your soul trying to leave your body. “Suguru, stop.”

At the firm tone, it’s like his own common sense returns to him. He exhales shakily and detaches himself from you, standing up. You both look at your wrist, which now bores a deep purple splotch.

Sweet merciful god, he gave you a fucking hickey.

“Fuck,” he breathes, running a hand through his hair. His lips are swollen, nose a little red too. Your eyes can’t help but travel down to the front of his black pants, which bear a very noticeable bulge. How hasn’t his mere presence killed you yet? He seriously got hard just from doing that to you? “I’m sorry. I…that was my fault. I know you love him. I won’t ask you to cheat. I don’t want you to. Just…”

He shakes his head, seemingly flustered and surprised with himself. His expression is muddled.

“I…I’m gonna get some air,” he decides, and you nod, not even knowing what to say. You’re barely processing what just happened. He looks torn between wanting to ravish you again and wanting to get the hell out of dodge.

He makes the mature decision for once and finds the shirt he must have come in, putting it on and leaving without another word.

You stare at the space he just occupied.

What the fuck?

Your eyes flit to the love bite he left on your wrist. It throbs, feeling exposed in the cool air.

What the fuck?

There’s physical evidence now. You let him mark you. You let another man put a hickey on your body behind your boyfriend’s back.

You feel sick to your stomach, yet a small part of you is pleased to bear Suguru’s mark. In such an intimate place, too. You hadn’t even known you were so sensitive there.

If Choso sees that, you have no clue what you’re going to do. This damn hoodie is staying on. You pull the sleeve back up past your knuckles and hide it away.

You then put your head in your hand and sigh heavily.

Things have just gone from bad to worse.

—-

You sort of zone-out through the rehearsal. You’re just sitting at a bar stool near the front, watching your boyfriend play and sing along with the band’s music while the light and sound engineers mess with settings, testing out their equipment and getting volumes right to ensure the best sound possible. The music starts and stops, starts and stops, so it isn’t the full experience yet. You know that will come later when the show begins.

You’re honestly just troubled to all hell about what Suguru did to you before Choso had returned from the bathroom. You didn’t hate it. You still don’t.

You hate that he couldn’t keep going, rather.

His eyes gravitate toward you every now and then, and you can feel them burning holes into you like the end of a cigarette. Choso’s gaze in contrast is just steadily warm like that of a hearth, and it makes you feel all the more shitty about yourself.

Who are you to let Suguru command your thoughts like this? He’s not the man you love. You want to fuck him, and that’s it. It’s just some stupid, basic human instinct that’s making you act like a mindless beast in heat. You might have a primal side, but damn it, you also have a conscience and you will not let the instinctual side of you win.

When rehearsal ends, barely to your knowledge, you return to the dressing room with the band once Choso calls to you.

“Okay,” Suguru begins once everyone is inside. “Things are looking great for tonight. We have about an hour, and Ijichi was kind enough to get us some pizza, so why don't we eat up?”

Larue hoots in agreement and Miguel claps, the two going right for the boxes lined up along a fold-out table at the corner of the room.

You met Ijichi, their manager, shortly before rehearsal. He’s a polite and slightly scatter-brained man, but he seems genuine, so you took a liking to him instantly.

“You’re welcome to the food too,” Suguru tells you, “Have some.”

Truth be told, you’re not that hungry. Being around Suguru makes you nervous enough to curb your appetite, but you don’t like to refuse hospitality, either.

“Okay,” you smile, tugging Choso along. He goes willingly, following you to the table like a puppy. You can feel Suguru’s eyes on the back of your head and you want to turn around and look, but doing so will just draw attention to him. You can’t do that.

You grab a slice of cheese while Choso grabs a pepperoni, and the two of you sit together on the leather sofa as everyone starts eating. Suguru is the last to sit with his slices, two stacked on top of each other, and you watch him fold them as he raises them to his mouth, taking a bite.

Fuck. How is the way he eats attractive, too?

Choso has his free arm around you and you think that it’s the only thing keeping you intact.

How you manage to make it through the conversation you can’t remember is a mystery to you.

Ijichi comes in a bit laterand informs you all that it’s fifteen minutes until the show starts, and with that, you help Larue clear away all of the food so that the other members can start fixing their appearances to go on.

“Baby,” Choso says, putting a hand on your shoulder as you drop napkins into the trash bin. You look at him.

“Yeah?”

“Do you wanna step outside for a second? We’re going to change clothes. I don’t know if you really want to see…the others.”

Oh.

A very helpful image of what Suguru might look like in just briefs robs you of clarity and it makes your heart jump into your throat.

If you saw that now you might leave the venue in a stretcher.

“You’re right,” you say with a laugh, “Let me know when I can come back in.”

He gives you a small smile and pecks your lips before letting you walk out of the room. You pass Suguru, his arm brushing against yours as he moves to remove his shirt again.

“Sorry,” he laughs breathily, those damn honey-colored eyes once again telling you an entirely different story.

“No, uh, my bad,” you manage before reaching the door and exiting.

As soon as you’re standing in the hall, you put your head in your hands and breathe in deeply, trying to center yourself as much as possible.

You will lose your mind soon. It’s impossible not to around Suguru. He has to know how insanely hot he is, right? And he’s so damn confident—except for when you’d told him to stop.

Right then, he had looked unsure, even shocked with himself. You’ve never seen that look on his face. He was flustered. You managed to fluster him.

You groan under your breath, shaking your head. It doesn’t matter. None of that matters. You can’t have him.

All you have to do is get through the night and go home with Choso. And then promptly never subject yourself to Suguru Geto ever again.

The door clicks and opens slowly, Choso poking his head out just in time for you to straighten up.

“You can come back now. Help me with my makeup?”

You nod, following him back into the room. You force yourself not to look around. You can’t look at Suguru. You can’t.

Choso sits at one of the vanity tables, watching you grab the bag you had forgotten on your chair earlier to place it on the countertop.

“I want the lines going up and down my eyes,” he says, “with the arrows. And purple eyeshadow, too.”

The last time he’d done that had been with the old band. It’s one of your favorite styles on him.

“I love that look.”

“I know,” he grins softly. “That’s why I want it.”

You can’t suppress the quiet, fond laugh it makes you give him, and you’re reaching for the small makeup bag inside.

You get to work, your boyfriend obediently closing his eyes as you brush the shadow on his lids gently, blending it in so that it’s darkest around his eyes and then fades nicely into his skin tone. Once the shadow is done, you move on to the liner, taking the pencil and positioning it in your hand.

“Look up for me,” you tell him, and he does as told, letting you rim his water lines with black. “Okay. Now close your eyes and keep ‘em closed.”

He effortlessly obeys, and you carefully stretch the lid of his right eye to line above his eyelashes, doing the same to his left eye. You use your shadow brush to blend it.

“Okay,” you smile, admiring your work as he looks up at you with his mocha-brown eyes. “Pretty.”

You take pride in the way his eyes widen and a blush paints over the center of his face, Choso becoming completely flustered.

“Ready for the line art?” You ask, acting unfazed. He nods, and you cup his cheek for a moment before switching the pencil for a liquid eyeliner marker. “Okay, hold still, babe.”

He nods, letting you draw the first line down from the center of his eye, past the tattoo, sharpening out at the edge. You thicken the beginning of the line, then repeat the process on the other eye, blowing a gentle stream of air over his face to dry it quicker.

“Wow. You’re really good.”

You jump at the sound of Suguru behind you, and you’re suddenly really thankful he didn’t do that while you were drawing on Choso’s face. You might’ve poked him in the eye or at least fucked up your work. Your reaction has both him and Choso laughing in response.

“Sorry,” Suguru chuckles as you look at him, clutching your chest. Oh god. He has heavy liner around his eyes, too, only there’s no color and it’s less smoked-out than Choso’s. “Guess I caught you ‘in the zone’.”

Choso rubs your arm. “She’s talented, isn’t she?”

“Very,” Suguru agrees readily. “I wish I hadn’t already done my own. I bet you could make me look cool, too.”

You already look perfect, you want to tell him, but by the grace of some merciful god, you don’t let that slip past your lips.

“I think you did a good job,” you respond, laughing breathlessly. He grins, shrugging.

“Ah, thanks,” he says. “Can I keep watching? I find it fascinating.”

That’s a rhetorical question. Like you could ever say ‘no’ to him when he asks like that—it would be rude.

“Sure,” you agree, and turn back to Choso. Just focus on him, focus on your boyfriend. “I’ll do the top now, Chos’.”

“All right,” he replies, closing his eyes again, and it allows you to draw continuations of the lines below his eyes straight upwards, through his brows, ending in the middle of his forehead. You blow to dry them quickly, then start working on the arrows.

Luckily, it seems like focusing on the makeup really helps to keep Suguru from invading your mind for the moment, though you’re very aware of his eyes watching you work.

You finish soon enough, and Choso turns to look in the mirror, smiling at the finished product.

“It looks perfect. Thank you, baby.”

He kisses your arm since it’s closest, and you return his expression.

“Of course.”

“Awesome,” Suguru adds, “He’s going to make quite the debut with the band looking like that. You might have competition.”

You raise your brows slightly at this. You hadn’t thought about what kind of response Choso was going to get from the audience tonight, but that makes a lot of sense. He is a living, breathing angel, with a heart of gold to match. He will have tons of fans.

Choso’s arm winds around you and he pulls you in, resting the side of his face to your body.

“None of them will have a chance,” he says, looking up to meet your eyes. “You’re all I’ll ever want.”

The earnest nature of that statement has you blushing. You weren’t expecting that at all, but you know that it’s true.

Suguru sucks in a breath and it’s then that you look at him just in time to see him concealing his true facial expression, fixing a smile on his features.

“That’s a good mindset to have in this industry,” he says. Only you seem to be able to see the turmoil behind his eyes. He claps his hands, getting everyone’s attention.

“Are we ready?”

“Yup!”

“Born ready.”

Choso stands beside you, nodding to him in affirmation.

“All right, let’s get ready to go on.”

The walk to the door that leads backstage is short, and you stop with Choso after the others go in.

“You’re going to do amazing,” you tell your boyfriend, leaning up and planting a kiss on his lips. “I’ll be watching from the closest bar stool to your left, just like I was for rehearsal.”

He nods, touching your arm. “Thanks for always supporting me like this.”

“Of course,” you laugh incredulously. “Always.”

He smiles. “I love you.”

“I love you too. Now go on.”

With an encouraging pat to his arm, you see him off, and make your way to the house of the venue.

You find your seat just before the lights dim, and soon after, the show starts.

You watched the rehearsal, but in its full glory, the real show has your heart pounding with excitement.

It’s a full house and the energy from the crowd is instantly electric as the first notes start playing and Suguru begins to sing. You watch him with complete disregard for the audience as he looks right over at you, lush voice caressing the air. He smiles and you feel your face flush—that man clearly has massive stage charisma, because as soon as he does it, the entire audience’s screams get louder.

He lets his eyes wave over the crowd and you take the freedom it grants you to look over to his right, where Choso stands and plays. He’s looking out at the back of the house, and you hum fondly. He’s always done that—looking over the people instead of at them helps to ground his nerves. But he must feel your eyes on him because he quickly looks over to you, and as soon as they connect with yours, you feel yourself smiling back. He perks up instantly, and puts more effort into his performance. It warms your heart. Your love has such a tangible effect on him, it makes you feel all sorts of special and needed.

The chorus of the song hits and Suguru is using his normally smooth voice to belt, and Choso backs him up, closing his eyes to sing, allowing you to look at Suguru again.

Oh, man. He’s majestic up there, all long hair, tattoos partially displayed underneath his black tank top, outlining his muscles perfectly. Even the belt he’s wearing hugs his body just right and accentuates the tiny sliver of skin above his waistline, beneath the bunched up fabric of his shirt every time he turns or raises the bass enough for you to see it.

To top it all off he keeps looking at you.

So now, you’re in some type of personal purgatory where your attention keeps switching between Suguru and Choso, the two having an entirely unbeknownst-to-them stand-off for you.

This carries on for half the concert until something else forces your eyes away from the stage as a whole. It’s during a small break, where Suguru is addressing the audience, talking about the music they’ve done so far.

A hand slinks around your waist, and suddenly the smell of hard liquor fills your nostrils. You turn to look, face breaths away from that of a man you’ve never met before.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he grins loosely at you, “You here all alone?”

His grip on you tightens.

Oh hell no. This can’t be happening.

“No, I’m not.”

He chuckles lowly. “I don’t see anyone with you. Why don’t we get out of here?”

“Absolutely not,” you bite back, putting your hand on his chest and pushing. He barely budges.

“Oh, feisty. I like that.”

“Get off of me, or I swear to g—”

“What’s this over there? You, at the bar stools?”

You freeze as you hear the entire room go quiet, looking over at the stage to see Suguru and Choso watching you worriedly.

“Just talking!” The man answers loudly to Suguru, right in your ear, and you grimace, pushing at him.

“Is your presence welcome?” Suguru asks, voice full of condescension. His eyes reserve pools of hot anger that he keeps strictly strained and controlled in the tight, patronizing smile he wears.

You shake your head immediately, and for that, the man beside you growls and grabs your waist with his free hand, trying to pull you into him.

“Hmm. Now that just won’t do.”

Choso hurriedly pulls the loop of his guitar over his head and Suguru takes it for him, the crowd moving as Choso jumps off of the stage.

“Get away from her,” Choso’s voice is dripping with venom. It makes your heart race—you’ve never seen him like this before. Granted, he’s never had the opportunity to get so protective before, but holy shit. Add that to his menacing build and dark-rimmed eyes and you have the makings of a man straight out of a novel.

It scares the man beside you enough to make him let go, finally, backing away.

“Hey man, I was just—”

“That’s my girlfriend,” Choso states coldly, sidling up beside you and placing his arm in its rightful place around your shoulders. “Don’t you dare lay a finger on her.”

“Curse Manipulator doesn’t tolerate harassment,” Suguru says into his microphone. “Everyone, what do we do to someone like that?”

“Boo!” Someone shouts, and the rest follow suit. Choso holds you close to him, hand rubbing up and down your arm comfortingly, trying to hold you steady.

“Security? Please get him out of here.” Suguru calls, and within moments, two tall and sturdy people you’d seen around the venue before the concert show up and lead the man by his arms out of the house, away from you. The ‘booing’ turns into cheers as he’s dealt with, yet Choso keeps his attention on you.

“Hey,” he murmurs, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you huff, “Kind of embarrassed now. That was a lot of attention.”

“Yeah, I think Suguru was just as pissed as I was. Just spoke up before thinking,” Choso laughs softly, “Do you want to go backstage? You can watch in the wings if that makes you feel better.”

You take a breath and nod. You don’t want to be in the audience any longer, now that everyone’s attention had just been directed towards you.

“Come on,” He says, and leads you to the door beside the stage, taking you back there with him as Suguru smooths things out through the microphone.

“Well, that takes care of that. We’re not gonna let that guy ruin our night,” he says, “We’re only halfway through, after all. We have a brand-new song, exclusive and never-before heard coming up! It’ll be on our new album.”

As soon as the door closes behind you, you let out a breath.

“Thanks for getting him away from me,” you tell Choso as you walk up the steps.

“Of course,” he shakes his head. “I will always protect you.”

A surge of emotion overtakes you as you remember the downright ludicrous look in his eyes as he walked towards the man harassing you. You grab the back of his neck and kiss him, hearing him gasp in surprise. The kiss is passionate yet chaste, and when you pull away he looks slightly dazed.

“That was honestly hot,” you tell him, and he smiles bashfully. You want to continue kissing him but before you can, you hear the audience cheering after Suguru said something, and remember where you are. “Go on. I’ll be back here. Don’t wanna keep the fans waiting.”

He grins and places a kiss on your cheek before heading back towards the stage.

You watch him go, looking a little past him as Suguru tilts his head back to make eye contact with you. He quirks a brow as if to ask ‘are you okay?’ and you nod, feeling warm all over again. He smiles in relief, and just like that, he begins to introduce the next song.

Now alone with your thoughts, you sigh freely. That guy had been a nuisance more than anything, but it had shown you indirectly that both Suguru and Choso have a protective streak inside of them that you brought out.

How can you possibly stay sane with a realization like that?

---

A/N: the way you're just dancing around each other...and it'll only get crazier, too

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