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You either love or hate make out session_:(´ཀ`」 ∠):

"Aye, Suguru, spin the bottle!" shouted Satoru from across the room.

It was midnight, the air was thick with heat, and tension hung heavy — the kind everyone felt but no one wanted to name. Everyone was a little too warm, a little too tipsy, and undeniably horny.

No one dared to admit it, of course. So Satoru, grinning like the devil he was, suggested a game of “spin the bottle”— just you, Suguru, Satoru and Satoru’s girlfriend.

“I don’t mind kissing her,” satoru’s girlfriend said, flashing a smirk. “But not you, Satoru.”as she kissed him.

She was the jealous not jealous type, and you never really understood why. She was beautiful — stunning, really — and had nothing to fear. Still, that insecurity always seemed to creep in.

“I won’t mind if you kissed Suguru,” Satoru replied casually. He wasn't the jealous kind. Confident, comfortable — it was just a kiss, after all. Right?

"And everyone knows I’m the hottest — plus the best kisser here," he added with that trademark grin.

You resisted the urge to laugh. If only he knew. The last time you kissed him was back in high school, and honestly? Dare you say it, it was the worst make-out session of your life. Messy, rushed, too much tongue — the kind of kiss that made you reconsider your feelings entirely. You’d decided then and there: friendship suited you both much better.

“Anyways, so suguru it’s your turn.” You faced him with a slight smirk. To you Suguru was attractive—drop dead gorgeous, you wouldn’t even think to look at him but this time? You were so horny, you weren’t even thinking straight, traveling with him, single? You couldn’t thank Satoru and his girlfriend enough to get Suguru to come with you and to be your “unknown by him”summer fling.

“Alright," he said.

The bottle spun, wobbled, then came to a slow, teasing stop — pointing directly at Satoru’s girlfriend.

She turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “You’re still okay with this?”

Satoru gave a shrug and a lazy smile. “No problem.”

Without hesitation, she stood up and crossed the room, sliding effortlessly onto Suguru’s lap. At first, she took his face in her hands and gave him a quick, almost playful peck on the lips. But then — Suguru pulled her closer, one hand at the back of her neck, and kissed her properly.

It wasn’t just a kiss. It was slow, deliberate… intense. — but he wasn’t looking at her the whole time.

From the corner of his eye, he was watching you. It wasn’t obvious, not unless you were paying attention — and you were. His gaze would flick toward you, brief and sharp, like he was gauging your reaction. Testing something. Daring you to say or do anything.

Your pulse quickened, though you kept your face carefully neutral.

She didn’t notice. Too caught up in the moment, in him.

And suddenly, the room felt a little too quiet.

You weren’t sure when you’d started holding your breath, but as their kiss deepened, you became painfully aware of it.

Suguru’s fingers had slipped into her jaw, his other hand resting lightly on her thigh. She wasn’t resisting — quite the opposite. Her body leaned into his, their kiss slowing down like they had all the time in the world.

Satoru just watched, expression unreadable. Arms crossed, lips curled into a half-smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

And then, as suddenly as it started, the kiss ended.

She pulled away, breathless, a ghost of a smirk on her lips as she returned to her seat. Suguru didn’t say a word, just ran a hand through his hair and leaned back with that quiet, knowing confidence he always carried.

The bottle sat on the floor between you all, waiting.

No one moved. Then Satoru looked at you.

“Your turn.”

You licked your lips, nerves tightening in your chest as you reached for the bottle. With a flick of your wrist, it spun — slow at first, then faster — and you could feel his gaze on you the entire time.

You glanced up.

Suguru’s eyes met yours for a second... then drifted away like he hadn’t been watching at all.

The bottle finally began to slow, wobbling uncertainly, then leaned… and landed right between Satoru and Suguru.

Of course.

But Satoru was the first to speak, his grin already forming.

“It’s my turn. You already got kissed, Sugu.” His tone was light, teasing. Then he turned to his girlfriend. “You don’t mind, right? It’s just a kiss my love.”

You noticed the slight shift in her expression. She wasn’t thrilled — her smile was tight — but she didn’t say a word. She trusted him. And you.

“You better come here, ‘cause I’m not!” you laughed, trying to shake off the tension.

“Yeah, right,” he said, crawling over with that lazy confidence.

Satoru didn’t say anything at first.

He just looked at you, eyes a little too bright, a little too steady — like he was waiting to see if you'd flinch, or lean in first.

Then, with a lazy grin, he closed the space between you.

He slid a hand behind your neck, fingers warm and deliberate, and the other settled low on your waist like he’d done it a hundred times before. Like he knew exactly where to touch to make your breath catch.

And then he kissed you.

It was slow. Not soft — but measured. Like he was tasting, not taking. Like he wanted you to feel it, every second of it.

His lips moved with a confidence that didn’t rush. That said he knew what he was doing — and worse, that he knew you knew, too.

His thumb brushed just under your jaw, tilting your face the way he wanted it.

You barely noticed when your fingers curled into his shirt.

And when he finally pulled back, it wasn’t abrupt. It was deliberate. His lips lingered near yours, breath mingling with yours, and when he smiled — just barely — it was the kind of smile that stayed under your skin.

As if to say: told you I got better.

When you glanced around, your eyes met Suguru’s—and he was already looking at you. Not casually, not in passing. He was watching you like he knew exactly what you were thinking. His girlfriend noticed too, her gaze flicking between you both.

A wave of shame flushed through you, and you looked away, heart pounding. Satoru returned to his spot beside you, but his presence barely registered. The air felt heavier now.

Later, after Satoru and his girlfriend shared a long, intimate kiss—one that seemed to go on just a bit too long—it was Suguru’s turn.

He flicked the bottle with a smooth, effortless motion, his fingers brushing against the glass like he was controlling more than just chance. The bottle spun endlessly, or maybe time just slowed for you.

Your pulse thudded in your ears. And then—

It stopped. Pointed directly at you.

You didn’t move. Neither did he. Suguru’s lips curled into the hint of a smile, but his eyes stayed locked on yours.

You swallowed hard, but there was no denying the thrill that shot through you. Part fear, part longing.

You wanted this.

And he knew it.

Suguru didn’t move right away. He just looked at you—openly, deliberately. His gaze didn’t waver, didn’t hide. He wasn't asking for permission. He was daring you to look away.

Then, slowly, he stood. Every movement of his felt intentional—measured. His eyes never left yours as he crossed the space between you, stopping just inches away.

Your heart slammed against your ribs, but you didn’t flinch. You couldn’t.

He leaned in, his eyes dropping to your lips, then back up again, a slow, knowing smile forming.

“You’re not backing out now,” he murmured—not a question. A fact.

His fingers brushed under your chin, tilting your face up to meet his. The touch was light, but it carried weight. Certain.

He didn’t wait for a reply—didn’t need one.

Then he kissed you.

It wasn’t soft.

It wasn’t hesitant.

It was firm, deliberate—hungry. His hand slid to the back of your neck, keeping you close, like he was making up for lost time or punishing you for every second you’d spent apart.

His hand at the back of your neck tightened slightly, fingers threading into your hair. He tilted your head just enough to deepen the angle, his body pressing closer to yours. You could feel the heat of him, the slow rise and fall of his chest, the tension in his jaw as the kiss grew heavier.

His mouth moved against yours with purpose, lips parting, tongue slipping in to taste you—slow, confident, and unrelenting. It wasn’t rushed. He took his time, savoring it, like he wanted to memorize the way you melted into him.

You responded instinctively, your fingers gripping his shirt, pulling him even closer. Every nerve in your body lit up under his touch. You could feel the smirk against your mouth when he realized just how badly you wanted him.

And then—just before it went too far—he pulled back, only an inch.

His lips were swollen, his breathing uneven, but his eyes… they burned.