it starts with loud chuuya. chuuya on his first glass is always extra loud. talking about anything, really. hobbies, stuff in his work, gossip from within the port mafia, ranting about ex-colleagues—his mouth runs a mile a minute as he drinks. which you don’t really mind—it’s endearing—but a lot of times it’s just much easier to usher him quickly into his second drink.

that leads him straight to quiet chuuya. chuuya who is deeply contemplative and has a lot of angst inside of him begging to come out. while he still has the ability to talk as he did prior, he’s now much quieter, and only drops heavy one-liners every time he does speak. it’s a good barometer to see how he’s been feeling the past week, except every line is at least twice as miserable as it really is in real life. quiet chuuya sits in a corner nursing his glass of wine until it’s empty and he’s near in tears.

which leads to the third-glass horny chuuya.

really, like something snaps. he goes from tense and silent to one that’s crossing the room with heavy footsteps headed straight to your warm embrace.

third-glass horny chuuya gives very, very eager consent. nosing at your neck, murmuring your name and little whines of “please, please, i need you right now” as his hands are going down your body. give him a push and he’ll back off—no problem, not hard at all—but if you continue to let him, the more enthusiastic he gets.

until he’s so desperate for you no more words come out, just grunts and pants and grinding.

he’s already midway through his third-glass tonight and you know if you wait any longer he won’t even be able to get hard at all, so you decide to give him what he wants.

chuuya makes slacks look extra beautiful, especially on his lithe frame, but by god does it look painful when tented with a dick as massive as his. you pop the button free and pull the zipper and shimmy it down his shaking hips.

you can’t help the laugh that comes out of you. “chuuya, you have to calm down a bit.”

which you’re sure he doesn’t understand in words but he does in spirit, because he whines a complaint, a sound that goes straight to both his dick and your core.

you take him into your mouth, a practiced gesture of tongue and hidden-away teeth. a groan that’s filled with relief exits his mouth, and you grin as your tongue goes further down his length. he sighs, a heavenly sound.

chuuya loves oral. giving, receiving. he can spend hours with you between his legs or him between your legs and he wouldn’t mind one bit. something about the adoration, the worship in the act gets him off so hard that you know it won’t take him more than two minutes right now to blow his load all over you.

but you don’t rush it, don’t push on forward because you want to enjoy this as much as he’s enjoying it. take the base of his dick in your hands and gently pump it as you soothe the head over with your tongue like a salty lollipop. the shivers of his hips are sensations that go straight down to your now-wobbling legs.

his hands suddenly fly to your hair, and so you decide to finish him off. all the way in your throat, so nothing goes to waste. his murmurs and moans finally escalate into a choppy, garbled version of your name, so sweet in its surrender, and the pain in your jaw dissipates as you hear him release one final sigh before his hips fall to the bed with a creak.

you look up at him, grinning, delighted in your handiwork and are about to tease him for round two when—

instead, you see chuuya snoring happily away against his pillow, mouth slightly open, drool falling out.

the anger and sexual frustration that broils in your gut at the sight disappears at his pleased, relaxed expression, such a contrast to the displeasure in his face earlier that night.

well, i guess that was worth it.

you wash yourself up quickly before coming back to bed with him, tucking you both under the blanket. you kiss his cheek, then pinch his nose, grinning as you lay down next to him.

-

the fact that chuuya wakes up with morning wood the morning after is nothing surprising.

not when he’d spent the entirety of last night squirming, thinking about you sleeping peacefully next to him. not when he can’t remember the dream but he knows, with the feeling he wakes up to on his chest, that it had been about the both of you. in some headspace a little bit more carnal.

like where he is right now.

chuuya never wakes up early, but today he doesn’t mind opening his eyes to the golden glow of the sunrise peeking over the yokohama horizon. next to him is you, the contours of your face illuminated by the rays of light, sleeping soundly.

the blanket has slipped off of your form throughout the night. your shirt’s ridden up just the littlest bit to reveal the smooth flesh of your stomach; and your shorts leave the rest of your legs up to chuuya’s view. mouth slightly open, you breathe peacefully in slumber as chuuya eyes you like a wolf hungry for meat.

you can use me whatever way you want, chuuya.

well, there’s no fun on going at it on his own, so he may as well make you feel good along the way.

besides, it seems like a great way to wake up.

sliding off his boxers so he can at least free himself of that constriction, he slides down the bed, careful not to wake you up. you don’t wake up that easy, so he knows he’ll be able to get as much as his heart desires done before you truly rouse out of sleep.

you groan just the littlest bit when chuuya slips off your shorts and your panties, but you stay unawake. chuuya takes this as a good sign as he gets himself in position between your legs.

he goes slowly, like he always does. slower than usual, even, to keep you far away from wakefulness. a trail of small kisses on the inside of your thigh, all the way until he reaches your cunt. pretty and waiting for him, a sight he think he’s never tire of.

and then it’s time for breakfast.

the touch of his lips against your clit leaves him reeling more than you. something about being able to adore you like this leaves him shaking somewhere deep inside. then it’s slow kisses down, the warmth emanating from your core undeniable as it washes over his face.

what a great morning it is.

chuuya hears your breath hitch as he swirls his tongue through your folds a few more times, adding to the wetness collecting there. when he peeks, you’re still out of it. good. he’s just getting started, he wouldn’t want you to wake up half-ready, would he?

your legs begin to shake on their own, as chuuya gently suckles over your clit to draw even more blood onto it. the pure vulnerability in the act of eating you out—together with the fact that you’re letting him do it while you’re asleep!—sends an innumerable amount of warm sparks shooting through chuuya’s belly.

would you get mad at him if he asks to do this every day?

chuuya alternates licking the expanse of your pussy and focusing on your clit, making sure to warm you up nice and ready for him. tiny kitten licks interspersed with broad strokes that wake up every sensitive nerve ending.

and then he feels it. your fingers gently massaging his scalp, tugging at his hair.

“is my princess finally awake?” he murmurs against your thigh. trailing kisses there but not where you want him because he’s a tease now that you’re (even the littlest bit) conscious. when your hips buck upward onto him, he laughs.

you make a sound of discontent as you groan, your voice still raspy with sleep. “chuuya…”

smirking, chuuya returns to his job of pleasing you with his mouth. this time, he adds momentum by thrusting his tongue into your already soaked hole, enjoying the way you squirm around him. your moans and sighs get louder with every little movement of his tongue, wordless sounds soon coming on to be tiny curses and the shape of his name.

“i’m close,” you say, desperately, as chuuya suckles on your clit once again. you reach down to tap his shoulder and when he looks up, you squeeze your hand into a fist. he reaches up to entangle his free hand around yours.

so you can hold on to him.

“i’ll make ya come with only my mouth, watch,” chuuya says with a self-assured grin. focusing on your hands around him, your voice echoing in the bedroom, how much they’re expressing how good he makes you feel, he continues to lap at your pussy like a man starved. focusing on the parts that make you scream, your hand tightens around his and your tug on his hair becomes tighter and more intense as chuuya doesn’t stop, refuses to stop, until he delivers.

your head lolls backward as the pressure builds. “chuuya, don’t stop, please, right there, i’m—”

with a hum against your sensitive flesh, his voice sweet and velvety, you feel the vibrations of i love you before the orgasm finally crashes onto you, shaking off any and all bits of sleep that may have clung onto your consciousness.

chuuya laughs, a low, seductive laugh that nearly sends you off again, as he lifts up from between your legs, leaning his head over his hand as he licks off the juices that are still stuck to his lips. “good morning to you, lovely.”

chuuya binds your hands neatly behind your back first, with beautiful red rope. and then, lifting you up weightlessly with his powers, he places you down to sit pretty on his lap, the soft flesh of your crotch against the hardened mass of his own.

“think you can get off just seated on me like that?”

you shake your head, a soft whine escaping your lips. “you tie me up and then demand that i come untouched? that’s unfair of you, chuuya.”

“well then,” he says, with a grin, let’s see if just touching you where you need me will be enough to finish you off.

and that is how you’ve found yourself, hands bound, breathing heavily, the beautiful curve of chuuya’s cock nestled pretty in your scorching heat, entirely still and unmoving.

you search chuuya’s eyes for mercy and find nothing.

“stay still, don’t move your hips,” he reminds you, and when you nod in agreement he smirks. shifts so he can press a kiss at the corner of your jaw, down to your neck, leaving purple bruises and pink bite marks all over your decolletage. his hands wander the soft contours of your body, down your arms, the dip of your waist, the fullness of your thighs.

it takes you all manner of self-control to not buck against him, feeling the boil building within you.

chuuya laughs, a low roll that nearly takes you out. “you’re clenching around me,” he notes, the palm of his hand suddenly flush against your mound. whatever rocking your insides were doing intensifies with his touch. “do you like this? warming my cock?”

“a little less than you taking me like you mean it,” you admit, to which chuuya only laughs again.

“you’ll learn to love it,” chuuya smirks. “just watch.”

his mouth continues to travel downward, to the flush of your chest still shivering with every breath. he puts a rosy bud in between his teeth, tugging just to an acute pain that leaves a hot scorch all over your body. with his other hand, he toys with the other, as he suckles and lavishes you with his mouth’s adoration.

it’s slowly getting harder and harder to stay still.

you clench and unclench your fists behind your back, trying to keep yourself calm as chuuya continues his languid exploration of your body. you want to just reach your hands over and curl your fingers around his hair, make him feel how good he’s making you feel. want to do more than just sigh and moan his name as he kisses up your neck where it’s already tender and red.

exasperated and at the edge of everything, you break all the rules of the game and buck your hips forward against his hand, a satisfied whine falling out of your lips. to which chuuya quietly tsk tsk tsks.

“what?” you tease, smirk rising on your lips. “i just wanted to show you the lingerie you got for me arrived.”

”did it have to be on your fucking body?” he gasps out, a sound of pain mixed with pleasure.

you cross your legs, luxuriously enjoying the noises he’s making. “i mean, you wouldn’t have gotten the full picture, right?” you tease, grinning when his breath hitches. “you sound like you’re in pain, baby.”

“and ya don’t sound like you’re remorseful at all,” chuuya jeers, pressing his phone close to his ear while his hand is busy somewhere below his waist. he’s dizzy from the wine he’s had earlier and the stupid photo of you in the deep red pair he’d bought (as one of the multiple gifts) for your anniversary is burnt into his eyelids. “my girlfriend’s a slut.”

“hey, i’ll have to say i’m only a slut for you,” you say, your voice crisp through the call. chuuya would pay to be by your side right now. would fly faster than the shinkansen can go just to be by your side, to hear your voice, to relieve himself. “and i’m not the one suddenly initiating phone sex.”

“who says i’m initiating phone sex?” chuuya says, sighing with shaky breaths. “i wanted ya to take responsibility for what ya did.”

you hum, your voice so alluring. gods, how much does he want to make you moan right now, chant out his name in stuttered pants. but no—for now, he’s the one around your finger. and boy he doesn’t mind. “you want me to talk you through this?”

“fuck, i don’t know,” he confesses, the last two words jolting into a moan. “just do something for me won’t you?”

then, like a switch was flipped, your voice suddenly is different. ”tell me what you’re doing, chuuya.”

he feels like careening. you’re finally here! with him somehow. here for him. gods, he’s going to have the best nut of his life. “i’m just stroking myself through my boxers, babe. please.”

“i know, we’ll get there,” you say, your voice so low and alluring, placating. “how hard are you now?”

he groans. “like an electric pole.”

“great. you’re doing so good.” he doesn’t have to see you to see the ridiculous smirk on your face. gods, you’ll be the death of him. “take it out of your boxers. you can start stroking, baby. but keep it slow. slower than you’d like.”

“why!” he complains, but he follows your instructions anyway. he shudders, curling forward where he’s lying down as he finally gets the first taste of what he wants. it’s hard to focus, but he tries to imagine his hand is, instead, yours. soft and unscarred, much unlike his. “i’m going to die if i don’t get this out of me right now.”

”but you’re going to die a much better death if you wait it out,” you argue, a short, stilted laugh in between your words. he does, however, catch the hitch in your voice, and he wonders if you, too, are touching yourself despite it all.

“you try being in my position and say those pretty words,” chuuya bites back, but it’s all bark. you know he’ll follow what you say anyway. you chuckle at your silent, mutual agreement, and your hand continues to make a trail down between your legs. you ghost over the part that’s most sensitive and focus on driving more blood down, to make you even more sensitive and ready for chuuya.

your voice is stern when you say “i can hear you speeding up.” chuuya whines at the commanding sound of your tone, and you hear him slowly going back to the painful pace he was at earlier. you smile. “good. i love it when you’re obedient.”

“you’re so going to pay for this when i’m back,” he says through trembling breath. oh, you know. that’s exactly why you’re doing this for him.

“did i ever tell you what i love doing the most for you when i put you in my mouth, baby?” you say, your voice deadpan—just inquisitive, no teasing, sexy voice. the drastic difference between the things you’re saying and your tone drives him insane. “messing with the head of your dick while i play with your balls. have you noticed how sensitive you are around those parts?”

there’s a moment of silence before there’s a loud gasp from chuuya’s end, and you know that he’s tried it out for himself. “so that’s what you’re doing to me?”

you laugh. “like taking a screenshot of your horny,” you tease, but sigh when your fingers finally make it to the slit of your cunt. “since you’ve found your good spots you can go a little faster now. but don’t finish yet.”

there’s, again, a noise of complaint, but he doesn’t argue. it’s not often you get chuuya this submissive.

“do you know what you do to me?” you ask him, as your breath begins to tremble as well. the sound of you shaking instantly sends a wave of pleasure straight to his cock. “wish you could see how fucking wet i am right now. you could probably slide three fingers in me with no problem.”

he curses at the mental image. “i’m going to—i’m going to blow my load all over that dirty mouth of yours.”

“oh, i’d like that,” you say, humming in pleasure. the bed on your end creaks, and he wonders how hard you’re going. “i bet you’ve got a lot to give to me.”

a full body shiver rocks his frame. “more than you can handle.”

“w-well,” you sigh, the stutter in your voice his sign that you’re about near too. “it’s time for you to show me how much that actually is.”

“fucking, finally!” chuuya yells in delight, as he begins to eagerly pump his dick without restraint. phone falling off from his shoulder, he loses himself in the pleasure finally, imagining you in the penthouse bedroom pleasuring yourself to the sound of his wrecked voice. his pants and sighs and whines turn into half-garbled cries of your name, as well as a chant of “fuck, fuck, fuck” that continues to roll out of him in waves.

just like chuuya any other time you’re having sex, it’s the sound of your voice once you finally surrender into your own orgasm that tips him right over the edge. he spills, white hot, milky, and messily all over his hotel’s perfect white sheets, all while listening to the sound of you panting.

“well.” you say, half a laugh, as you hear chuuya’s breathing begin to even on the other side of the line. “i got carried away.”

“you did get carried away,” he agrees, his voice low and destroyed but sounding absolutely divine. “edging me like that.”

“hey, you do that to me, too!” you whine, and then the two of you fall into comfortable, companionable laughter. quietly, the two of you bask in your respective afterglows, listening carefully to the sound of the other’s breathing.

“i miss you. i’ll be home soon,” chuuya says, finally, already sounding half-asleep. you smile. “i love you.”

of course, his kind nature and his brash personality matched with his loyalty is quite the potent mix to make anyone fall in love with him, his sharp tongue aside. but there’s a certain delight in being in the center of his attention, one that remains unmatched in your experience.

so you get back at him by being a tease instead.

“i know we said friday,” chuuya says, from the other end of the line, on a dreary wednesday evening. you’ve just gotten home from work. “but something’s come up and i won’t make it. saturday?”

you tsk. “i don’t think saturday’s gonna be great…” you murmur, voice lowering into a dip. eyeing your black number hanging by your closet, you say: “i know this is a little rushed, but why not tonight? i’m even wearing something pretty.”

there’s a silence on the end of the line, for only a moment. if you listened close enough, you’d hear the deep breath chuuya takes before clearing his throat.

“better be pretty enough,” he jokes, and you flatter him with a laugh. “won’t be able to book it at where we planned, so—”

“yep, the usual,” you confirm, the restaurant downtown where he’s got himself a seat at the back reserved. “i’ll see you, chuuya.”

“i’ll see ya, pretty.”

-

“not trying to sound unappreciative,” chuuya says once he gets you to your doorstep after dinner, “but that was a little underwhelming.”

“what? the date?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. “did you not have fun?”

“no, you were great, splendid,” he says. “just wondering if you oversold me on your outfit.”

the smirk that’s been waiting to cross your face finally gets there. “oh, you think this is what i’m talking about?” you ask, running a hand lightly over your tight number, where it accentuates your curves. “i was talking about underneath.”

a red flush fills chuuya’s face in an instant. still, that doesn’t stop him from grinning, a cackle at your playful words. “you could have just asked me directly,” he says.

“that’s exactly what i’m doing,” you say. you lift his hand and press a kiss onto his knuckles over the glove, a mimicry of his own favorite gesture. “come with me?”

-

the red, lacy pair you’re wearing underneath is enough to send chuuya to his knees. you take off his coat and his hat, let him sit in his vest and gloves, the half-undressed, “nearly there” state so exquisite. you make him sit on the bed, make him watch as you undo the buttons and zippers and you unwrap yourself like a lovely little gift.

you give him a little spin so he sees the full effect of it, and he leans forward to give you a closer look (or maybe to hide something from view.)

“did ya get this for me, princess?” he asks, as you saunter toward him with a smirk on your face. “gotta say, you’ve figured out my style.”

you put your hand on his knee. “just a lucky guess, actually.”

“and looks like i’m about to get lucky too,” chuuya says, grinning. “just don’t know how i’d like to have it.”

his hands are hot on your body as he pulls you close to him and then wrestles you onto the bed, your hair fanning like a halo around your head on the pillows. you smile as he nuzzles his face in the valley between your breasts, inhaling the perfume you’d so purposefully sprayed in there.

he lifts his hands to his mouth and tears his gloves off his hands with his teeth so he can play with the lace with his bare hands. you let him, intent on just watching as he caresses over your flesh, enjoying the contrast of the red fabric against your skin. he tugs at the ribbons; snaps the straps; thumbs at the lace.

he slips his fingers into the band of your underwear, fingers grazing the soft hair there, when he looks up at you with red-hot desire in his eyes.

“made your mind up yet?” you ask—ever teasing, ever keeping him on the edge of his seat.

he tries his best techniques, having memorized long ago the best ways to lift your spirits. when he tries to take you out for dinner, the weight around your ankles makes you turn down his offer—so he prepares you a home-cooked meal. and then afterwards, he runs you a bath, all bubbly and rosy like you like it, and he joins you so he can wash off the dirt and grime of the day.

a small smile makes it to your face as he’s gently drying your hair with the blow dryer. eyes closed, enjoying the touch of his hands over your hair. chuuya relishes in that smile, wishes it would last forever.

but the joy is short-lived, because by the time you get to bed, whatever has taken over your head has crawled all over you again. you hold your hands over your arms as if shielding yourself from something, shaking despite feeling warm.

chuuya approaches you, all tender light.

“let me love you,” he says, softly, pressing a kiss onto your shoulder.

you shake your head. “there’s no part of me worth loving,” you answer sadly, to which chuuya squeezes you in disbelief. “look at how comfortable my life is. and yet i’m still miserable. i must be cursed.”

cursed? chuuya thinks to himself. a phrase he’s not unfamiliar with. he’s thought himself the same, actually. long before he’d met you. even shortly before. that maybe carrying the god of destruction in his heart is one day going to ruin him. to destroy him from the inside out.

but you stayed. you stayed regardless. casting the evil spirits away.

“let me show you,” chuuya says, instead. “let me show you how much i love ya.”

chuuya presses a kiss to the top of your head, and you surrender to his touch. “to the beautiful mind in there, always creating and finding ways to make the world better, always thinking of me,” he says, as he kisses your forehead as well. squeezing your cheeks, he presses a kiss onto your nose and then down your jaw.

every kiss he leaves on your body lights a fire in you that you’d thought had gone out. like a brightness piercing through the dark, cutting through the fog.

how hard it is to break when chuuya is there to hold you up.

he kisses your hands so tenderly, bringing them up to his lips, a tiny kiss to each finger. “to the hands that hold me up, that take care of me, that cradle my heart,” he whispers. entangles your hands together so your fingers nudge each other as he continues his trail of adoration down your body. “to your heart full of love, my place to rest. the arms i crash into. a belly full of laughter for the both of us. my love…”

and when he gets to your hips, your legs, the flush on your face is no longer from the tears threatening to spill. “chuuya,” you breathe, his name a prayer on your lips. “chuuya, i love you.”

“i love you more,” chuuya answers, his mouth a hot trail on your thigh. “and if ya forget that, if ya ever think ya aren’t lovable… i’ll prove it to ya.”

there will always be days like this. when things become too hard to bear, when the soul is bent and near broken. chuuya knows that. he wishes it weren’t true, but it is. so instead, he holds your hand against his chest and reminds you that he is here. that he will always be here. no matter how hard the days become, no matter what kind of misfortunes might be thrown in your direction.

he’ll stay, and make sure that you remember—

he gets you a pillow to put under your knees as you settle onto the floor, him on the edge of the bed. practiced; perfected. shortcut techniques to pleasure that you’ve mastered simply by being around chuuya long enough to know what he’s into.

and boy is he into this.

100% of the time you don’t even need to try. it’s not about your tongue caressing the underneath of his shaft, or your hands fondling his balls, or the way you nearly choke around the size of his cock. it can be picture-perfect and quick or it can be sloppy and animalistic—either way is fine.

what chuuya really gets off to is your enthusiasm.

so long as you’re 100% onboard with it, and that you show it, it won’t take him too long to be forced into putty into your hands.

his hands in your hair. his name on your mouth, a mantra being chanted to the heavens. the way his thighs and legs flex and contract as you work your mouth around him. there are times chuuya wishes he could be more dominant when you’re being so obedient for him; so good around his cock—but there’s little he can do when your mouth is on him.

he can only bend to your will.

“i’ll let you get off if you promise to go down on me every night this week,” you say, pumping him with your hands. he had groaned when you popped off of him, a sound of longing coming from his throat.

“fuck, babe, ya don’t need to hold my dick hostage for that,” chuuya begs, pleads, and you laugh because he hasn’t promised. steeling himself to open his eyes, he looks at you and says, “i promise. morning and evening if ya want. gods, just—”

press a kiss on his tip. make him shiver and beg. squeeze the base of his cock. brush your lips over the sensitive underside. and when he comes, give him a show. it doesn’t matter if you swallow it or not, just give him a show.

you reach out to cover his ears and walk him backward toward your bedroom, shaking your head desperately. “shut up! we don’t want them to hear us.”

“what? they’d definitely heard the door opening, that’s why she’s—”

“chuuya, please!” you beg, half a whisper as you open the door with one hand and then push him into your room with the other. you close the door behind you and sigh deeply.

you take a moment to compose yourself before you speak again.

“we usually tell each other in advance if we’re bringing someone over—”

chuuya laughs at your red-flushed face. “watcha bein’ so embarrassed about?” he grins, patting the space next to him on the bed. “it’s just sex.”

“it’s still embarrassing?!” you say, but sit next to him anyway. “l-let’s just watch a movie, or something like we planned, yeah?”

your boyfriend shrugs and lets you do what you want.

except even if you’ve turned up your laptop to the highest volume you can still hear… them.

“err…” chuuya pauses where he’s nuzzling your hair, holding you close still in your usual cuddling position. “should we just… go back out? maybe go to your place?”

something thumps from a few rooms down. you cry at the gods over the thin walls.

“hmm… we’re kinda comfy right now though aren’t we?” chuuya muses, brushing your hair out of the way so he can see your face. “you know, i’ve been thinking.”

there’s no mistaking the glint in his eyes. “…thinking of what?”

“wanna fuck louder than them to establish dominance?”

-

deep, deep in your heart, you know what you’re doing is wrong. but something in the way chuuya had phrased it sets something aflame inside of you, and the moment he offers you know you won’t be able to turn it down. no matter how mortified about it you get.

chuuya has his hands on your hips and he slowly guides you onto his hard cock as you bite harshly onto your hand, trying not to moan too loudly. your one hand is on his chest, balancing yourself.

“we can’t establish dominance when you’re being so quiet, baby,” chuuya teases, sexy smirk on his face as you sink your heat fully onto him, your hips meeting at the bottom.

“this is… way more embarrassing in practice,” you whine; despite your words, you grind your hips against him needily anyway. “can we just… do this the normal way?”

chuuya chuckles. “ya sayin’ the normal way is any quieter than theirs? silly.”

you feel the weight of gravity sink into your bones as everything suddenly glows red, and chuuya guides your hips against his eagerly. his hands are on your ass as you bounce and grind effortlessly against him, the pleasure suddenly becoming too hard to ignore.

“fuck, chuuya!” you cry out, before instantly clamping your hands on your mouth at the realization. chuuya’s smirk only grows wider, his hands working your body a little more fervently against him.

“i got a—reputation to keep, babe,” he teases, sitting up so he can hold you close to him. “you can’t make me lose in front of your roommate, now can you?”

you shake your head, but grin anyway at his childishness. “not everything is a—fuck!—competition, you know?”

“yeah, but this one sure is.” chuuya says, trailing kisses down the nape of your neck as you shudder against him. “c’mon, we gotta win.”

and you want to say no, want to be the adult in the relationship for once, but chuuya sneaks a hand down between where your bodies meet and you know in that instant—