It had gotten to that point of the year where it got cold once the Sun set. Shotaro remembers only last week he was sweating during this time of day, but now he was burrowing deeper into his leather coat to try and generate more heat. He had to zip all the way up the moment he stepped out of his hotel, and when he met Wonbin at the corner his friend exclaimed how cold he was while chattering his teeth.

Wonbin never dressed right for the cold. He was either wearing too much but too lazy to shed layers or he didn’t wear enough and complained about it every thirty minutes. He was dedicated to stylish but thin jackets as of late, moving on from whatever trend he swore he set before.

“It dropped like ten degrees,” he said sympathetically. 

His hands were still deep in his pockets, not pulling out his phone and trying to recall where they were going from memory. Shotaro was more than down to wander until he got to his destination, catching up on lost time with his home country. He was fully prepared to meander and give Wonbin an impromptu tour that consisted of him talking about how much this area had changed. But Shotaro had content to film and Wonbin tended to get pesky when hungry. 

Shotaro looks up at the red stoplight, reading the name of the street. He looked left then right, then pointed his head in the general direction.

“The food trucks are this way.” 

Wonbin follows immediately. Shotaro figured he only knew how to get from this spot back to his hotel, because every night this week they’ve met in the exact location. Wonbin has never specified where he was going and he’s never had to. He knew that Shotaro was going to meet him here and take him where they wanted to go. Being the one in charge of directions was a challenging task, but Shotaro believed it was best for him to do it. If it was Wonbins responsibility they would’ve been in a different prefecture by now while Wonbin insisted he knew where he was going.

“How did your thing go today?” Shotaro asked.

Wonbin walked beside him, face down to keep the wind from making his face even colder. He shrugged.

“Went well.” Wonbin dragged his feet across the concrete, kicking up dirt and rocks. He continued to trudge along and Shotaro thinks he probably regrets not ordering room service. “might be a change in leadership next season, though.” he adds.

“Why?” Shotaro asks.

Wonbin gives him a side eye. Shotaro gives him a side eye back before scoffing, a puff of vaporized air floating into the air.

“What? Afraid I’m going to tell?” he asks.

“You know there’s competition between your company and mine!” 

Wonbin’s voice already had gotten shrill, a partial answer to his question. He keeps his hands in his pockets but they’re balled up now. If Wonbin didn’t have his beanie pulled down to his eyebrows Shotaro is sure they’d be narrowed. 

Shotaro smiles and bumps shoulder with Wonbin, trying to get him to stop being so tense. He understands immediately, letting his shoulders go back down. He won't pry, Wonbin is sure he's sworn to secrecy by higher powers. Their friendship is well known amongst their peers, much to the dismay of their feuding companies.

The two walk in silence. Shotaro thinks he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. He does the math of timezones in his head and assumes he must be imagining things.

“There have just been so many issues in communication. I think they’ll just end up combining jobs to get rid of people.”

Before Shotaro could react Wonbin gestured in front of him. Shotaro could hear the commotion of their destination in front of them. He could hear and smell it too, walking with a pep in his step after Wonbin sped up.

Food trucks lined the street, steam poured from them into the open air. As far as Shotaro could see it was just people, walking from one truck to the next, laughing, and eating. He heard the sounds of workers yelling about orders that were ready, metal tongs fishing food out of broth or scraping the bottom of pans.

“Smells so good.” Wonbin said.

Shotaro wasn’t sure if it was his stomach growling or if his phone went off in his pocket. He nodded, remembering his shoulder bag and one of the reasons they came out here. Wonbin was already walking to the dumpling truck when Shotaro took his warm hands from his pockets.

“Sorry. Do you mind if I?” 

Wonbin gestured forward vaguely letting him know it was alright. Shotaro pulled his shoulder-bag to the front of his body and unzipped it. 

A point-and-shoot is easier to vlog with. The way to operate it is self explanatory, the only thing you have to remember is to turn it on. The camera is so easy to have  rolling that Shotaro sometimes forgets it’s on. 

He gets all the footage he can and then edits it when he gets home, posts it to YouTube and the supplemental income holds him down until he gets booked again. He’s been making good money lately. Sometimes it feels like people tune into his vlogs more than they do his professional work. People approach him and tell him how much they like his vibe and the outfits he wears and the shops he goes to and the hole-in-the-wall restaurants he recommends. 

So because of the easy point-and-shoot Shotaro has regrettably become an influencer. A fashion vlogger. A restaurant reviewing snob who does professional fashion photography on the side. He was here in Tokyo for work but it felt like he was here to vlog. He embarrassingly had to ask  Wonbin all week if it was okay to record them eating dinner, if he could show his outfit before he got in his taxi to go back to the hotel. Even now he felt guilty, watching Wonbin wait for him to get his camera ready before he orders anything from the stall. 

Shotaro starts filming, and instantly Wonbin looks at him with his lips parted. Shotaro presses record but continues to look at Wonbin. His friend opens his mouth then closes it.

“What’s wrong Bbin?” He speaks while looking through the viewfinder. “I edit later, so you can talk freely.”

“Nothing,” Shotaro points the camera to Wonbin’s face, catching it lost expression and his beanie pulled down to his eyebrows. “I was just going to ask what you were going to get.”

Shotaro takes that as his cue to order first. He gets the yakitori and takoyaki, and orders something he think Wonbin will like. Wonbin watches him without saying a word, just nodding and pointing and pretending like he can understand Japanese.

Shotaro and Wonbin are on the streets for less than an hour before the cold becomes too much. They keep close to the stalls and crowds of people, relying on the body heat and steam from the cooking to remain warm. 

When Wonbin’s teeth continue to chatter Shotaro calls it a night, dropping him off at the same corner where they met. They make plans for tomorrow, Wonbin tells Shotaro it’s cold one more time and Shotaro agrees before telling him goodnight.

The cold doesn’t really set in for him until he tells Wonbin goodbye. Shotaro stays on the corner for a moment, making sure Wonbin heads the right way to his hotel. While he stands there on the corner watching his friend meander to his hotel, he does the math again. Shotaro turns his phone on to double check the time here. He sees you, and he forgets if you are fourteen hours ahead or behind. He has to do the math a third and fourth time while looking at your face, his mind constantly losing track of itself.

Shotaro can’t remember anything that’s going on when he sees the photo of you that he took.

You were Shotaro’s first client. Bright-eyed and plucked off the busy streets of your hometown by a casting agency. You had never been in front of the camera in any professional capacity, but you pretended like you knew what you were doing. Shotaro believe you owned it too, having the level of confidence that comes with your life changing purely because of your looks. Your agents marketed you as the next big thing, and Shotaro knew you believed it. You were so sure of yourself you had Shotaro putting his number in your phone, and you had him working as your personal photographer.

Shotaro was freelance at the time. He reveled in not belonging to anyone, making his own hours and being his own person. His photographer friends who worked for companies complained. Shotaro had no complaints, except for the fact that his best work was with you and you were working with other photographers. 

He had a polaroid of you two inside of your favorite hotpot place squeezed between his phone and its case. There was a notable shift between the two of you then, when you started telling Shotaro to hang out with you outside the context of work and you started getting more work outside of him. He asked the worker if he could take a picture of the two of you after you both finished your meal. He slid into the empty space next to you and put his arm around your shoulder. You nestled into his side and smiled. You kept the second one where Shotaro got the courage to squeeze your shoulder and you poked his cheek. 

There was another photo behind the clear plastic of his wallet. Your first fashion show together is in the place he keeps his cash. He had that picture of you jumping on the bed in that hotel in Paris tucked behind his ID.

(Shotaro remembers that night like it was yesterday. After the fashion show you described them stripping you down until it felt like you were nothing. They took away the pins that cinched the waist of the dress to fit you. You told Shotaro the adrenaline wore off the same time they took the heavy fabric off your body. You came out of the venue in your full beat and a frown on your face. Shotaro asked you what was wrong in the cab to his hotel because you described that night as the most important night of your life.

“I just can’t believe it’s over,” you said quietly.

Shotaro had his hands on your shoulders, rubbing you gently. The weather was nippy, all you had on was an oversized sweater and the boots you landed in. Shotaro wanted to make it the best night ever for you. He remembered the hotel Louis Vuitton booked for him and the implication that he could splurge on the company’s dime.

“The night doesn’t have to end just yet.” Shotaro said.

So that’s how you ended up jumping on the king sized mattress without a care in the world. Shotaro ordered champagne and lobster and steak frites and anything your eye settled on for too long. He ordered a lava cake and smeared the chocolate and whip cream across your face and you did the same to him. You shed your boots at the door and your sweater in between the second and third course. You were left in your shape-wear and stockings, not caring about the implication of being half-naked while someone you knew professionally but had also held hands with was fully dressed. Shotaro had seen his fair share of naked models, stripped of their clothes in the middle of the shoot to throw on a new outfit. Out of respect he always looked away, concerning himself with anything besides the naked person in front of him. 

Now, Shotaro did not look away. He was leaned against the headboard of the bed, hand behind his head as he looked at you.

“You look pretty.” Shotaro said.

You were caught off guard, mostly paying attention to the cigarette Shotaro turned into a makeshift candle plunged into the top of the lava cake. You were making a wish to yourself, while sitting on the edge of the bed, closing your eyes and blowing the non-lit butt of the cigarette to really sell it.

Shotaro’s compliment stayed in the air. You turned back towards him and he smiled seeing your makeup turn the area around your eyes dark.

“You aren’t going to ask me what I wished for?” you asked, smiling back.

Shotaro could only guess. If he were you he didn’t know what to wish for because everything good in your life was guaranteed. You didn’t have to wish for a lucrative career because you were born to walk and be on the cover of magazines, you didn’t have to wish for better clothes because you’d be able to afford it soon. You didn’t have to wish for anything because in that moment Shotaro felt like he could get you whatever you wanted. He was going to take a picture of every star in the sky and somehow get them to materialize in your bedroom.

Instead of telling you he shook his head. He took his camera from the nightstand and looked through the viewfinder until you took up the whole shot. Instinctually you gave him your best face, holding up the lava cake next to your pouting lips. The flash went off and like nothing had happened you leaned forward and put the lava cake back on the push cart, adjusting yourself on the edge of the bed so you were facing directly at him.

“Well I wasn’t going to tell you anyways.” you say.

“I said you look beautiful.” Shotaro repeated.

You shake your head again. Shotaro sits up a little straighter against the headboard, eyes widening and looking at you. The makeup was still on your face, making the gentle look you gave him contradicting and sharp. Your eyebrows were fully filled in, you were supposed to look different, but Shotaro saw you. He saw the chocolate dried to your face and the smeared lipstick and the way you bashfully looked away when he told you how beautiful you were a third time.)

There was another photo of you when Shotaro opened his laptop. You with the backdrop of the cherry blossoms at the Brooklyn Botanical Garden. You were both in New York for work when Cherry Blossom season started. The trees lined a walkway and it was the time of day where it was mostly empty. Shotaro took photos of just you first, for your Instagram, then your Twitter, then your Finsta. The outtakes you hated but he loved were just for him. The homescreen was of you in the middle of looking behind you and looking towards him, a hand covering your smile as you tried to get serious. The photo was blurry, your other hand was awkwardly clenched at your side. Shotaro liked the candidness of it, the b role of his film that was just for him. No photo he took of you went to waste. 

He had half a mind to leave his laptop idle just to see his screensaver. But he got a text notification from you in all caps, telling him to call you NOW. So Shotaro fixed his thick framed glasses and went to the video chat option. Before he could even call you, you called first. Another picture of you took up his laptop screen and phone at the same time.

Shotaro answered on his phone, lying on his back and looking up at the ceiling.

“Hey Taro.” 

“Hey baby,” Shptaro said back immediately.

“I missed your voice.” you whispered.

“Is that why I got such an urgent message?” he asks.

Shotaro can hear you on the other end of the line rustle around. He hears an affirmative hum too, and the sound of you turning on the television. He can hear it in the background clearly, then it turns into low hum.

“How are things where you’re at?” he asked.

Shotaro heard static on the other end of the line. He forgot what time it was where you were, the same way he had forgotten what time it was here. With everything being open twenty-four hours and him always being tired, it was getting harder to pinpoint time. He assumed you were confused too because he heard you hum for a moment, like you were trying to remember all of the things you did.

“Well this ad campaign for ski wear is pretty fun.” Switzerland was where you were. Shotaro was currently eight hours ahead of you. If it was late for him it was the evening for you. “it’s cold. But the Sun reflects off the snow so it’s kind of hot too? This girl got a crazy sunburn and pissed off the directors of the shoot.” 

“Poor girl.”

“They told her to wear sunscreen and to not go outside but she didn’t listen.” you reason.

Shotaro agrees but he’s been in those spaces before. He’s seen you get yelled at for things you were allegedly supposed to know but didn’t. He’s had to hold his tongue and cheer you up when there’d be quick breaks between shots.

“A good editor will be able to handle that in post, though.” Shotaro says. “I just hope they didn’t make her feel too bad,”

“She’s alright. After work today we all went around the resort and got to do a bunch of stuff for free.”

“Are you all done for the day?” he asks.

“Yep.” You had the undeniable cheer of someone whose workday was done. Shotaro was jealous because he had a feeling that he’d be here for another week, and then he had all this footage to edit too. You’d be back to your shared apartment before he was. “Where are you staying?” you asked.

“Close to home.”

“You didn’t stay with your parents?”

Shotaro shook his head like you could see it. He shifted the phone between his shoulder and chin, shifting around in his camera bag for the SD card.

“I visited them when I first flew in.” They asked where you were and fed him so much food he thought he was going to explode. They also turned his childhood room into a partial storage room. His mother had a Peloton in there now. “But I’m going out early, coming back late. DIdn’t wanna stress them out,” he says.

Shotaro hears you hum on the other end of the line. More shuffling.

“You’re a dutiful son.” 

“I try, I try.”

Shotaro lets the end of the conversation come. There’s a silence, because he knows sometimes you just like being on the line with him, knowing that he’s there and with you at the same time despite being in a different part of the world. Shotaro is messing with his things, the same way you are on the other end of the line.

Shotaro goes to his camcorder, fast forwarding through the footage he got on this trip.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

Immediately Shotaro puts the camera down. He holds the phone with his hand, taking it away from the place between his shoulder and chin. 

“Oh yeah?” he asks.

“Were you thinking about me?” you asked.

Shotaro nods to himself, but answers with an affirmative a moment later.

“Do you miss me enough to turn your camera on?” he asks.

Too quickly Shotaro is seeing your face appear on his phone screen. You were talking to him from your Macbook, already propped up on the mattress. You were still dolled up from your shoot earlier in the day, but you were in loose pajamas that weren’t buttoned up all the way to the top. 

Shotaro switched to his Macbook too, and angled it where you could see his hands messing with his camera bag.

You smiled and he smiles back. You were posed into the Macbook like you were taking selfies. Like Shotaro was your photobooth application on your laptop, looking at your pout. Almost instantly you had his attention. Shotaro keeps his carefree demeanor, je even puts his shades on like he’s playing a game with you.

“How was your day?” he asks.

“Shotaro,” you whine and lean from one shoulder to the other. “you know how my day went.”

“Just wanted to ask you again so I could see your face.” 

Shotaro watches you try to not get upset and he smiles. He knows that you know he’s purposefully trying to rile you up. Despite saying nothing Shotaro sees you even get a crease in your forehead from all of the frustration.

“Why the Hell do you have sunglasses on indoors?” you asked.

Shotaro instantly pushes his shades up, until they catch on his bangs and fully brings them up. He can’t stop himself from smiling when you groan at his exposed forehead. 

He leans into the mattress and tilts his head at you. Shotaro is coy, pouting like you were and leaning closer into the camera.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

Shotaro knows exactly what’s wrong with you. Despite being miles apart and in a different timezone, you have always been privy to getting like this during the night time. You were the type to want to fuck your nerves away too. There’s a polaroid tucked in a binder Shotaro has in his apartment where he could barely take the photo before you were crawling on top of him. That feeling you got wasn’t reserved for bad days on set. It seemed like if Shotaro was in the vicinity after any type of day you had he was liable to be eaten alive by you. He didn’t mind. He almost felt pity for you, because he could shoulder the desire—or store it for the next time he’d see you. 

Your desire didn’t care for distance, but it was all-consuming to the point that you needed something physical. He knew that even when you turned to be on your back and reach your hand downwards off-screen nothing would come of it. Your own frustration was palpable, constantly moving like a cat trying to get comfortable. Shotaro bites his lip, waiting for whatever you’ll bark about next.

Shotaro sees you give him your best sultry stare, turning your head to look at him sideways. He runs his hands up and down his thighs, letting you get a grainy view of his hands getting closer and closer to his crotch.

“Talk to me mean,” you quickly pulled the screen of your Macbook down until the camera was fixed on the top half of your body. “talk to me mean in the way that I like.”

He can’t stop himself from laughing at you. Almost immediately your face changes, seductive to annoyed.

“I’ll hang up right now.” Your hand comes back into the shot and Shotaro can tell you’re moving the track pad.

“Were you just touching yourself?” Shotaro asks.

Shotaro watches your hand freeze on the trackpad. He dropped his voice a couple octaves, let his hand fully rest on his crotch. He would’ve dimmed the lights in both your hotel rooms if he could.

“You need me to get off, don’t you?” he continues.

You nod, and your hand stays on-screen this time around. You tilt your chin up to reach your hand through the top part of your mostly buttoned pajama shirt, stressing on the buttons that are still intact. Your nipples that were poking through the silk was replaced with your hand, your fingers causing the fabric to raise. Shotaro settled deeper into the bed, sitting slightly up against the bed frame. You settled further into the mattress, letting the springs creak under you. You started facing the ceiling before fully lulling your head to the side to look up at him again. He smiled because you were imitating his touch, down to the way he always pinched your nipples a little too hard. Instead of whimpering you only seethed from the pain, upset again that it didn’t feel the same.

“I need you to get off, Taro.”

“I know,” he says. He lazily stretches out, hand palming his dick and sees you tracking his hand. He flexes his arm when he puts his hand behind his head. Shotaro watches you take all of him in, over and over again while you try pinching your nipple searching for the same effect. “I always tell you that but you don’t listen.”

You’re still looking at him sideways, repeating the action. Before he can reach for his zipper he sees you pull your shirt from the top in a huff. You undo a few buttons quickly, until the bottom ends of your silky shirt slides down the sides of your body. Shotaro sees your navel, and the way your bare stomach rises and lowers from the breaths you pull in.

“You miss me so much, don’t you baby?” he asks.

Shotaro sees your hand go underneath your pajama shirt from the bottom. You don’t take the time to graze your fingers up your stomach before you start touching your chest again. He bites his lip, watching you tease your nipple as you squirm into your own touch.

“You wish I was touching you, right?” he asks.

Shotaro sees you nod, then you’re staring at him. Your look is piercing, from the side and you’re letting your mouth fall slightly agape. The terrible thing about models is that they know their angles. You’re the best at it. You can contort your face to show any emotion. You could be an actress if you wanted to be. He doesn’t know if you’re actually feeling lust or if you want him to feel it. You’re performing for him, without him even asking. All you want from him is to be mean.

“Take your top off all the way.” 

He hates that you’re trapped behind a screen. The Macbook quality makes you seem like a distant dream, and at worst a figment of Shotaro’s imagination. All that pent up emotion and the fact that he’s seemingly forced to film so much of his daily life has manifested into this. You’re almost unreal, Shotaro feels like he’s a lonely man watching a camgirl livestream, sending desperate chats hoping you’ll heed his requests.

You take off your pajama shirt quickly. You’re fiddling with the buttons then pulling it off your shoulder, leaving the crumpled silk next to your body.

“What are you doing?” he asks. Immediately you’re looking into the camera, and he knows you see the way you’re obstructing his view with your shirt because you move it immediately. Still he chides you, tsking andd shaking his head. “Move your shirt out of the way,” he says, seeing you throw your shirt out of frame. 

“Did you have it in the way on purpose?” he asks.

You’re shaking your head and turning your head towards him, fingers skating across the trackpad to keep your screen from timing out.

“It was an accident.” The irritation is gone from your voice and replaced with something light and airy. “I’m sorry,” you say.

“It’s okay baby,” he reaches towards his waistband and you move both hands to your chest. Shotaro watches you manipulate your body, kneading your chest and angling yourself so he can see all of you. “just wanna see all of you.”

Instantly Shotaro sees your eyes cut over the screen of your laptop. You’re canvassing the area when he finally starts taking off his clothes. His shirt is off his body when you set your laptop on the dresser next to your bed. He starts working on his jeans when you perch on the edge of the bed, sitting pretty before you lean back on one hand. The other is reaching for your chest, grabbing one side roughly and teasing your nipple.

“You look pretty baby,” he said. 

You nodded your head like you already knew.  Of course you did. You were on billboards and you took up a majority of Shotaro’s phone storage and he talked about you so much that a majority of the industry knew you were connected. You knew you were pretty because you kept playing for yourself, putting on a show for Shotaro while he started taking off his pants.

When he wasn’t fast enough you reached for your own shorts, pushing them down quickly and kicking them off of your feet.

“Hurry up Taro,” you panted.

He went even slower. He still had his undershirt on. Playfully he reached for the bottom of his shirt just to see you get more upset.

“Take it all off Shotaro,” the airy whine in your voice is gone, replaced with frustration and authority. “stop teasing me.”

“All right, all right.”

Shotaro got up from the bed and moved his computer to follow him. When he was beside his bed he 

Shotaro walked out of frame to go to his bag. He took out a small bottle of lube from the depths of his backpack and came back to frame. By the time he was back in the frame you were completely naked, one leg perched on the side of the bed to open yourself wider.

“Where’d you go?” you asked, voice back to being soft and whiny. 

“Just went to get this,” he answered.

Shotaro presented the lube to you, popping the cap open and sitting on the computer chair tucked underneath the desk. He moved his computer a third time, giving you a full view of him sitting in the chair with his hand wrapped around the base his dick.

“Why do you have lube?” you asked.

“I’m always prepared.”

Shotaro lets the clear lube fall from the bottle onto the tip of his dick. He’s not sure if you can see the way it gathers before it slowly cascades down. The thick stream from the bottle stops, then it continues until it runs down the sides of his knuckles. Shotaro starts slow, letting the cool liquid coat all of him before as it slides between his fingers. 

“Were you going to jerk off to all those photos you have of me?” you ask.

Shotaro nods his head and sees you stick a finger inside of your hole. You keep your pussy lips spread with your other hand, letting him see all of it.

“You’re a pervert,” you add.

Shotaro nods again. His hand is warm around his dick, gliding up and down easily because of the lube. He’s looking at you fingering yourself, each time your finger pulls out of your fluttering hole his dick throbs in his hand. 

Both of you continue. Shotaro watches you stick another finger in, he pulses the grip he has around himself. He even bucks into his own hand occasionally, leaning his head back until it’s against the back of the chair. 

“Touch your chest,” he says causally.

You oblige and motion towards the undershirt Shotaro has on.

“Take that off,” you order.

Shotaro listens too. He takes his hand off of his dick just to take his shirt off, and then his hands are right back on himself again. 

Shotoaro watches you touch your touch your chest tenderly. Instead of the grasping motion from earlier you’re gentle now, teasing yourself and whimpering quietly.

“I have to be quiet,” you say. Shotaro watches you slip a third finger in and your body bends a little further from the sensation. “everyone is staying on this floor so they might hear me.” 

“You wish I was there?” He can feel warm precum mix with the lube, and can feel that pressure building up again. “I’d make sure you’d keep quiet.”

“Bullshit,” you say quickly. “I’ve had plenty of noise complaints because of you.”

Shotaro laughs, even though he feels like he’s close to making a mess on himself. You are just too serious, despite your touches becoming more rushed. He knows you’re close because you’re playing with your throbbing clit more, almost completely abandoning fingering yourself. Shotaro always touches you like that. He loves messing with your clit, because you’re always more responsive when he does it like that. He thinks he has a video of it on another camera—that he unfortunately left at home—of you twitching and nearly crying. You were about three orgasms deep in that video though. He wishes he was there to work you to that point again, until he could get you to actually cry. 

He curses the distance between you and him. You think you’re cursing about the pleasure because you echo him, playing with your clit faster and squeezing your chest harder. 

Shotaro does the opposite of you. His motions become more controlled, going from his base to the tip slowly. Each time he goes to the tip he lets it push between his middle and ring finger. He sighs, bucking through the tight and angled space. He can be as loud as he wants. He groans louder so you can hear him, the wet sounds of the lube and precum is loud too.

“Taro,” you whimper.

“What baby?” he asks, pushing his dick between his fingers again.

You had your head leaned back, pushing your hips forward into your bent fingers

“I’m close.”

“Me too,” he said, humping upwards into his hand.

“Wanna come with you,” you add.

“Ah.” Shotaro tilted his head to the side as your words registered. He didn’t know you called him with a goal in mind. His hand was working faster down his length. “trying to be romantic, huh? All this distance has you feeling sentimental?” he asked.

Instantly you were nodding your head. He watched you give your sexiest face, eyelids drooping as you tried to remain alert. He loved seeing you try to beat him to the finish line, selfish and quick thrusts with only two fingers. Shotaro already had a picture of you like this. When he made eye contact with you he flicked his head just to see your eyes widen.

“Turn around,” Shotaro said casually. “lemme see you.”

When his order carries through the screen you’re already scrambling towards the center of the bed to be on your knees. Almost instantly you’re ass up, pointing it towards his camera. Shotaro lets the loudest moan fall from his lips, and he flexes his grip around his dick.

“Can’t believe I don’t have a picture of your ass yet,” he sighs to himself. He leans back into his seat until it tilts back with his weight. His hand is faster around his dick, he knows he’s close. “What type of photographer am I?” he asks.

“You can take it next time we see eachother,” you say.

Shotaro watches your fingers quicken their pace, and he saw your other hand reach back and grab your ass the way he always did. He wished he was there, but the way your body was framed on his computer was perfect. The lighting, the mood, the composition. He could feel the pressure building as he leaned further back into the chair.

He was so close he waited for the moment you announced you were cumming. It came out right before your fingers stilled, and he watched your thighs shake before you pushed your ass back to grind against your hand. Shotaro let out a moan and kept his eyes on you, only telling you he was cumming when he felt the warmth drip down his knuckles. You flipped onto your back and continued going like that, until you pushed your body further and further. By the time Shotaro stopped pumping his dick your head was hanging over the edge of the bed, and he saw your chest heave as you struggled to catch your breath.

He didn’t want to look away for a second. He felt the mess dribble down his thighs to his chair, even then he didn’t look away. With messy hands he reached forward and took a screenshot of his entire screen, with the minimized FaceTime tab and the backdrop of you as his homescreen.

When the click went through you lifted your head from the edge of the mattress. You turned onto your stomach, and Shotaro could see your perked ass in the background.

“Did you just take a picture of me?” you asked, playful smile on your lips.

“Yeah,” Shotaro moved the screenshot to the private and hidden folder. “Want me to delete it?” he asked.

“No,” you said, shaking your head. “You’ll be able to take better pictures of me though in a few days.”

shotaro woke up before the sun did. he dreaded hearing his alarm so much that he often found himself waking up before it had the chance to go off. every week thursday’s loomed over him like a dark cloud. 

each thursday was shotaro’s dedicated day of the week that he would be in the office from sunrise to sunset. he never considered himself to be an early bird, the exact opposite actually. most days it wouldn’t be until ten in the morning before he could speak, but every thursday he was forced to arrive before everyone else got there. 

shotaro would drink his black coffee while walking around the office, assigning roles for next projects. he would be desperately trying to get himself awake while getting clerical things in order before the teams arrived. during the day, shotaro was in charge of checking that the projects he managed were on track to be completed by the deadline. after everyone left, he would spend an hour or so taking notes on current problems in the projects and how to fix them. 

shotaro always thought that as he moved up the corporate ladder he’d have less responsibilities, or atleast more people to pawn them off to. but when he became lead project manager he suddenly had more things he was in charge of and his allotment of errors in his work greatly depreciated. sometimes he couldn’t believe he went from being the assistant that was on his phone all day to the leader of multiple teams, and how important it was for him to always be right. shotaro shook his head and rubbed his eyes to refocus on the computer screen. he believed that if he thought about his obligations too much, that nasty habit he had of biting his bottom lip would return.

the sun had gone down when shotaro was able to finally leave. he was the last one out, turning the lights off behind him locking the doors. he sighed heavily, letting his shoulders sag in relief as he made his way down the sterile office hallways. at first he was scared to be in the office by himself at such late hours, but now he couldn’t care less. on thursday nights the only thing on shotaro’s mind was getting home.

on his way home he turned the music up a little higher than usual, drumming along to the beat on the steering wheel and singing loudly. at each stoplight he got impatient, waiting for the light to turn green. shotaro looked to his phone in the empty passenger seat, waiting for his lockscreen to light up from a notification. it wasn’t fair that after the long day he had at work red lights were stopping him from coming home. he drove safe, resisting the urge to floor the pedal to get home faster.

shotaro’s patience was already dwindling when he exited the office. by the time he made it to the apartment building he was almost a completely different person. when the elevators were taking shotaro up to your shared apartment, he impatiently checked his watch each time it stopped on a floor that wasn’t his. something was eating away at him. the something started in his mind when he thought of you. once shotaro got started he couldn’t stop. he spent all day letting the thoughts of you marinate. he thought about you working from home, taking naps, and meandering around the apartment in between breaks. you probably haven’t left the apartment once. you probably hadn’t eaten either. shotaro thought about your routine all day, if you were still sleeping when you had set so many alarms the night before. 

shotaro knew you had spent the day sleeping and the night working when he walked through the front door. the apartment was the exact same as when he left it in the morning. the day passed by in the apartment without a single thing changing. everything was still off, the low glow of a computer screen coming from the bedroom being the only light. shotaro shook his head and smiled while setting down his things. all those alarms were useless—shotaro knew you had hit the snooze a thousand times before finally getting up. 

he broke your concentration when he opened the bedroom door. your eyes that was focused on the computer screen snapped up, almost embarrassed that shotaro caught you so stressed over work. 

when shotaro got promoted in his job, you became the carefree one in the relationship. the one that had the luxury of going to bed at a reasonable time and the one that would wake up for the sunrise. the role you had was easy, funded by your boyfriend who worked a corporate job and bought you whatever you wanted. you still had your own job, one that was remote and you could choose your own hours. 

your role in the relationship was something you were very dedicated to. you made the point to give shotaro health tips, to help him destress after a long day. you had been so relaxed you forgot what it was like to be stressed. to have your jaw clenched so hard it felt sore, or to have that feeling of failure loom over you like a dark cloud. 

when shotaro came through the door you had forgotten what time it was. you looked back quickly to your phone, where a reply to your boyfriend was unsent in your messages. both of you knew it was locked away to limit distractions. shotaro knew it was necessary but he hated it so much. without your get home safe text he had to be extra safe on the road, and without seeing your face shotaro almost forgot why he was working so hard at his job.

“you don’t have to be so quiet when you come in, ya know.” you said.

shotaro smiled, a hand going underneath your chin to squeeze gently. he knew he was dramatic, but he had almost forgotten what it felt like to touch you. feeling you underneath his fingertips eased the stressed of the day and seeing you smile only made him smile harder. he was always so quiet when coming home late, careful to not wake you. each time he did it you had to remind him it was unnecessary, and each time he shrugged his shoulders before saying it’s a habit. 

“it’s late.” shotaro made his way past you to sit on the bed. he plugged in his phone as he sat on the edge, setting it on the bedside table. “i thought you would be asleep by now.” he said.

you didn’t look up from your screen, resting your head on your propped up knee while you continued to type. shotaro watched the back of your head move while you reread lines, trying to make sure you weren’t rambling due to exhaustion.

“got a late start today.” you said.

shotaro hummed, knowing he was right that you got up late. you probably haven’t even eaten, only getting up for a quick snack that burned right through you. shotaro continues to look at your back as he gets himself undressed. he starts with his socks, a checkered colorful pair you got him for his birthday. he went with his dress shirt next, undoing each button slowly and take it off. shotaro got his pants last, making a point to be a little louder taking off his belt and letting the pants fall to the floor. 

he was only a little embarrassed to admit how badly he needed your attention. usually it was shotaro coming home to you already in bed, all he had to do was get undressed before sliding into the sheets next to you. it was almost primitive how shotaro instantly felt happy, how the stress from the day melted off of him just by being on the receiving end of your affection. he would slide into the sheets and you would pull him in close, before murmuring that you missed him.

shotaro working at an office and you working from home caused a chasm in your perception of workplaces. when shotaro was in the office, he was professional. he was the leader his company needed, and was serious about his work. in the bedroom, he was needy. he needed to always be touching you, or talking to you. so seeing you treat the bedroom like an office space still through shotaro for a loop. if you had turned around, or stopped typing for a moment just to look back he could’ve been sated. but you stayed focused on the screen, only taking a break to stiffly straighten your back.

when you went back to your hunched position, shotaro felt his fingers start to move. he got up from his side of the bed, walking over to you. he put his hands on your shoulders before pressing gently. you stiffened for a moment before relaxing slightly. shotaro tried not to think about the possibility of you forgetting he was even in the room still when he started gently prodding your back. when shotaro felt the knots beneath your skin, he wasted no time driving his fingers deep until you tried to move out of his hold.

“shotaro that hurts.” you complained.

you didn’t even throw a glance over your back before going back to your terrible posture. shotaro looked at the digital clock. it was too late in the night for both of you to be awake—or atleast too late for both of you to not be in bed.

”you are going to destroy your back doing that.” shotaro said.

he went back to the knots on your back, gently until you eased underneath his touch. shotaro almost wanted to laugh, now it was him giving you tips on your health and him trying to help you ease your stress. 

he almost thought you would laugh at it too, but you only continued to focus on the screen in front of you. 

“i have to finish this.” you said.

shotaro tried to focus his bleary eyes on whatever work you were doing. nothing could be comprehended by his tired mind. he leaned forward acting like he understood what was on your computer until his face was beside yours.

“you know it’s scientifically proven that your mind won’t retain information past a certain time?” shotaro said.

you scoffed, moving your face closer to shotaro’s until your cheeks touched. you relaxed further as shotaro found a stubborn knot. you stayed in place, letting your head hang forward as shotaro pressed deeper into the knot.

“i need to get this done.” you said still with your head hanging low.

“you have all weekend.” shotaro said quietly.

he continued to work on massaging your back, actively feeling your inhibitions crumble as his fingers continued to do their work. he reached up further, wondering if you could feel the thin bands of his rings press into the bare skin of your neck.

“so tense.” shotaro chided. you sighed, taking your hands away from your keyboard to let them fall at your side. “let me give you a massage.”

shotaro knew he was being too presumptuous when you snapped your head to look at him. he tried to give you the most innocent smile he could muster. shotaro tried his best, but it was hard to feign innocence after hearing your tiny sighs of relief. shotaro felt himself wanting to help you relax the same way you always helped him.

“aren’t you tired?” your eyes were low and bleary as you looked at him. “i’ll be in bed soon.” you said.

shotaro shook his head slowly while he continued to massage your back.

“just for a little bit,” shotaro drove his fingers into your skin a little more, smiling to himself when your sighs of relief got a little louder. “i’ll set an alarm and everything so you can get back to work.” he reasoned.

you looked at the words on your screen, how they stopped making sense a long time ago. you still feel shotaro’s fingers continue their ministrations on your back. the bed behind you looks inviting, and so is the smile on shotaro’s face. 

you get up from your seat to look at shotaro. his smile is big, reaching up to his eyes before he goes in for a kiss. 

he’s gentle at first, thumb stroking your hand gently. when shotaro tries to deepen the kiss, you pull away.

“only thirty minutes,” you walk over to the bed and shotaro follows behind you closely. when you sit down on the edge shotaro stands in front of you. the smile on his face didn’t falter when you pointed your finger at him menacingly. “and no funny business.” you say.

“what do you mean?” he asks.

shotaro plays dumb, tilting his head while you tilt your head sideways and give him a hard stare. shotaro folds, putting his hands up in defeat as you lay down on the bed. 

you lay facedown on the bed, trying to urge your body to relax. you haven’t been this stressed in so long you forgot how to manage it. it wasn’t until shotaro’s hands moved your limbs to the perfect place you felt your body begin to loosen. when you felt him straddled your lower back you had to repeat the motion to get yourself to relax again.

shotaro started high, a little below the space he had been working at since he got home. every part of you felt rigid, brought on by the mental strain of work. shotaro sympathized with you silently—he knew what it was like to have an unbelievable workload that seemed unbearable at times. he also had the luxury to leave everything at work. you had no choice but to be reminded of your unfinished projects each time you looked up from the bed to stare at your computer. when shotaro saw your eyes stay on the screen of your computer he started to become brash. his hands that were over your shirt was suddenly underneath the fabric, running his hands so far down your sides his hand was wedged between your stomach and the mattress. you didn’t stop his hand, or remind him about no funny business. you only let out a content sigh and turned your head back to face the pillow.

“don’t think about work right now.” shotaro said.

his voice was gentle but stern. you gave in quickly, saying an ”okay” muffled by the pillow. you tried to sound even with your voice, but the end of your words had an airy lift. the near whimper in your voice went straight to shotaro’s pants. usually he was better at controlling himself, but the view of you under him going slack and the feeling of his crotch pressing against your ass made him lightheaded. it didn’t help that you had been on shotaro’s mind all day, or that he was able to bring you relief from your stress.

he tried to remain professional, he tried so hard. he tried to not partake in the funny business, but when he pushed your shirt all the way up to your neck you didn’t stop him. when shotaro got up from the bed to grab lotion you let out a pretty whine from loss of contact. when shotaro returned and let the cold lotion spurt on your back you only shivered and made the feeble attempt to reach back and undo your bra strap knowing shotaro would do it for you. 

excitement creeped over shotaro’s body, and he wondered if you could tell. he tried his best to not let the tent in his underwear poke you, but shotaro knew that you knew what drove him insane. 

he kept part of his promise though, working his way up your back rubbing out the tension until your skin was damp from the lotion.

“so tense.” shotaro says above you.

you only groan in response, letting one of your arms go limp over the side of the bed. it is so relaxing, you think that if shotaro keeps going you’ll fall asleep. 

if he listened to what you said, he would’ve just given you a massage until your alarm went off to let you go back to work. but your sighs of relief were so blissful to his ears and the skin of your back was so soft. your moisturized skin had started to glow from the light of your computer skin. shotaro couldn’t stop his mind from thinking about your body glistening in sweat and the toys you two kept in the bedside table called out to him like a devil on his shoulder.

“babe?” shotaro said, still looking at the drawer of his bedside table.

you were nearly asleep, only being able to hum lightly to let shotaro know you heard him. shotaro was silent for a moment, letting his hand drift all the way down your until he rested above your ass.

“can i go lower?” he asked.

you only hesitated a second before mumbling a yes. 

shotaro didn’t hesitate moving his legs further down your body, until he could comfortably lean his crotch against your ass. shotaro felt you perk up and preen your ass slightly backwards to really feel all of him. his hands kept you down, kneading your ass over your pajama pants. he wished you were wearing those thin shorts to bed, the ones that were too short to cover all of you. but he would settle for the thin material of your pants. 

he kept kneading the skin, until your body started working against his force to put your ass further in the air. both you and shotaro got quiet, driven by the feeling of your bodies touching. shotaro fully delved into the funny business he promised not to do and you were no better. 

your ass was grinding against his dick when the alarm on your phone went off. it was blaring and it was loud, overtaking the sounds of quiet pants and breaking through the fog in your brain. your monitor screen had timed out, leaving you and shotaro only in the light of your screensaver. 

shotaro quickly grabbed his phone from the bedside table, turning it off while cursing it in his mind. he purposely pressed his dick into you as he moved, dragging it back and forth slowly as he went back to his previous position behind you. if you wanted to get back to work he would not stop you. deadlines were deadlines, and shotaro would always be here. but that did not stop him from leaning forward, so close to you that his breath fanned against the shell of your ear.

“thirty more minutes?” he asked with a smile.

you laughed into the pillow. shotaro felt the bed shift as you pressed your ass flush against his hips. shotaro’s hand gripped your hips and travelled to your stomach, pressing against your skin to perfect your form.

“when has sex with you ever been thirty minutes?” you asked.

shotaro pulled back from your ear, using his other hand to open the drawer of the bedside table. he could see you snap your head to the drawer, laser-focused on his hand as shotaro shuffled his hand around. he knew exactly what he was looking for, but he wanted to see you squirm as he obnoxiously rummaged through, making the metal cuffs clang around. 

when shotaro finally pulled out the matching set of pink toys, he could feel you draw in your breath. he was having trouble breathing on his own, the anticipation that was building stacking exponentially. your body stiffened and shotaro could feel the energy in the room change as he purposely took his time dragging the tip of the dildo down your smooth back. you shivered again and shotaro gave you the space to perk your ass up in the air as you took off your shirt and bra the rest of the way. your face was still down and shotaro grabbed a handful of your clothed ass, reveling in your whine.

“this isn’t sex.” shotaro said.

he rested on his haunches and leaned down, so close until he could press his face into your bottom half. when you rubbed your ass against his cheek shotaro put both hands on your ass spreading them. he breathed in the scent of you, something he spent all day thinking about.

“just stress relief,” he reached behind him, putting the tip of the vibrating dildo over your clothed clit. “so you can get back to work, yeah?”

“yeah.” you said meekly.

shotaro laughed and cooed, pressing a gentle kiss to your ass before straightening his back. from his space above you he could see how you turned your head, one side pressing against the pillow. shotaro wished he could see your whole face, but he got what he needed seeing your eyebrows stitch together as he turned on the dildo. 

the initial vibration made you jolt. shotaro anticipated it, holding your body in place by a hand on your hip. your hands instantly fisted the sheets, letting out a weak whimper.

“so jumpy.” shotaro tsked. 

he pressed the button on the dildo before putting it to the side. he knew the instructions to the dildo better than you. when shotaro initially bought the toys, you were too embarrassed to even look at them. you brought the covers up to your eyes while shotaro diligently read the instructions, pressing the buttons over and over to figure out how to use it. you made him keep the toys on his side of the bed at first too, and almost always looked nervous when you had to reach in his drawer for something. 

but now you loved the toys almost as much as shotaro did. he would come home from work on occasion and find them missing, hidden on your side of the bed. those were always the best days. shotaro got to show you how to properly use your own toys, and he got to tease you relentlessly when your eyes would go wide after finding out a new function. he would tease you until you wer a crying mess, talking about how you don’t even know how to get yourself off properly with your own toys.

his favorite function on the vibrating pink dildo was it’s ability to warm up. it took a second, but when it was ready it would emulate the warmth of his own dick. shotaro was a modern man and he loved innovation. so while he waited for the pink dildo to warm up he brought the reliable vibrator. it had one setting, and barely worked but it always got the job done. 

shotaro slotted himself between your legs, forcing them further apart with his own. you let yourself become malleable underneath his touch, moving to the exact position he placed you in.

“just relax for me.” shotaro said.

he peered over your body to look at your face. when your hand quickly reached back he held it tightly, pressing it against your back. he only needed one hand now to turn on the vibrator, causing you to instantly fidget. you pushed your ass in whatever direction shotaro would pull the vibrator to. shotaro was fascinated seeing you chase stimulation so desperately. when he pulled it away you wiggled your ass, and when shotaro dragged it down your slit you pushed your hips backwards so desperately it made the vibrator prod your entrance. you were whimpering chasing the feeling, only pulling away when shotaro would place it on your clit.

“need you.” you whimpered pathetically into your pillow. 

shotaro hummed sympathetically, still dragging the vibrator along your bottom half. he felt himself straining in his underwear, so hard that the precum started seeping through the fabric. 

shotaro had the habit of taking out his stress on you in the bedroom. something about seeing you come undone at his hands eased the weight on his shoulders. for some twisted reason, seeing you cum from anything else but his dick helped ease his stress even more. deductive reasoning told shotaro it was probably about control, maybe projection, or maybe taking care of you first made shotaro feel like he was taking care of himself. there were multiple times that shotaro had finished without touching himself, only touching you. he had heard the horror stories from his friends about cumming too early, but once again shotaro was a modern man. he was ready to go again quickly, and was resourceful enough to keep you going long after he was done.

“i’m right here, baby.” shotaro cooed. 

he let go of your hand briefly to reach and touch your cheeks. it made your eyes open, and shotaro saw you try to look for him behind you. he moved his body to enter your lined of sight, still playfully prodding his vibrator at your entrance. when your features softened shotaro went back to pressing it into your clit. your high pitched whine went right to shotaro’s dick, bringing him forward to grind it on your ass. the precum that seeped through his underwear got on your pajama pants. shotaro looked up at the ceiling, going back to pressing your hand against your ass. he pressed the vibrator further into your clit, until you turned your head forward and your hand pressed against the headboard. 

shotaro watched your body rock against nothing, and he saw your thighs shake. he started gripping your ass again, pulling you back to press against his dick against your ass. shotaro got distracted, feeling you wiggle against his ass. he almost missed your whine talking about how close you were, and how your hand started pushing at the waistband of your pajama pants. shotaro used the last of his self control to bring your waistband down calmly. he couldn’t stop himself from sucking on the swell of your ass, biting with a force that caused you to jolt. 

with your pants halfway down your legs you became more sensitive. there was one less layer separating your body from the vibrations of the toy. you couldn’t hide behind the extra layer, turning your head to whine in the pillow when shotaro pressed into your clit. he could see the splotch over your underwear, and when he pressed his finger into your panties the fabric stuck to your folds. 

“i’m going to cum.” you whimpered.

shotaro went back to kissing your ass, alternating between sucks and love bites. he used his free hand to bunch your underwear, until the fabric pulled between your ass. he lifted slightly, applying just enough friction to your cunt. you were moaning now, failing to muffle your sounds in the pillow.

“let it out.” shotaro encouraged.

with your bunched panties in his hand he brought it back to your ass, only freeing his thumb from his fist. when shotaro lightly pressed his finger against your asshole your body tensed for a split second before melting underneath his touch. your first orgasm was never loud, only high-pitched whimpers and repeating his name over and over. you almost always relaxed after the first one, losing all force to keep yourself up causing you to slide on the soft sheets.

shotaro could’ve taken you from the back like this for the rest of the night. he resisted the urge to hold your body in this position with his strength while he spent the night relaxing every tense muscle in your body. part of him wanted to fuck you with the dildo then give you his dick until the back of your thighs were glossy from slick and you had to press your legs together pathetically to save yourself from overstimulation—but the way you kept puckering your lips and clutching at the bottom of his shirt made his tunnel vision disperse. so when shotaro guided your wobbly legs out of your pants he let you lay on your back. 

you pulled him down to you quickly, wrapping your legs around his waist and peppering kisses all along his face. shotaro smiled from the quick kisses, thinking about how you must’ve stored all your affection up the whole day. 

shotaro reached behind him in the middle of your kisses, bringing the dildo to rest beside your head. when your kisses ceased, shotaro brought you in for a big kiss, one that still connected your lips with a string of spit. shotaro broke the string with the dildo, letting it rest on your bottom lip while you looked up to him with blown out eyes. shotaro gave you a simple head nod and you poked your tongue out, laving the tip until it was glossy with your spit. shotaro licked a line down it himself, making you widen your eyes. 

he barely gave you time to register the lewd act before he brought the dildo down between your two bodies. he pressed the tip to your clit before dragging it down to collect your slick. you brought shotaro down closer to put your head in the crook of his neck as the wet sounds filled the room. shotaro liked playing with you this way, making you hear how wet you always get. he was almost able to imagine it being his own dick spreading your arousal around and teasing your entrance. your legs that were wrapped around his waist spread apart and you let your hips thrust upwards, desperate to have something inside of you.

shotaro pulled his body away from you until you were forced to look at him. he could see the bleary look in your eyes were wet now with tears threatening to break your water line. shotaro used his free hand to stroke the skin underneath your eye. he watched your big eyes stare at him desperately, flickering down quickly to his consoling smile.

“just relaxxxxx.” shotaro prolonged his words as he slid the warm dildo into your heat.

your mouth was agape taking it all. you almost immediately began squeezing around the toy, your walls still sensitive from your first orgasm. it slid in and out of your with ease, both you and shotaro’s foreheads pressed against eachother to watch the scene unfold together. you swallowed it up each time, and if you looked further past you could see shotaro’s dick twitching in his underwear. there was a wet patch, one that you would have to teasingly bring up later. 

you were pulled from your thoughts when you felt shotaro’s eyes look at you. with your foreheads still pressed together you maintained eye contact, biting on your bottom lip when shotaro turned the vibrator on to it’s lowest setting.

you started whimpering immediately and found yourself in the same position of desperately looking for things to hold onto. shotaro found your hand first, squeezing it tight and pressing it into the sheets next to your head.

“so wet and tight,” shotaro increased the speed of pumping the toy inside of you. “i can feel you sucking it back in.” he cooed.

you didn’t know how to respond. any words you could’ve formed turned into quick motions of your heads and whimpers. when shotaro increased the speed of the vibration your whimpers turned into moans and cries of his name.

“you pretending it’s me?” shotaro teased.

you looked down again while shotaro lifted one of your legs to rest on his shoulder. you shook your head, muttering something about how it’s not as good as the real thing. 

shotaro felt a pulse in his pants again as he pulled his body up, getting a full view of your entire body. he settled back on his legs to get a better angle and view. from here he could see your chest shudder as your breaths became more broken, and how your leg tensed from the pleasure. you were going through a full body experience, and shotaro got to witness it all. how could he be stressed about anything after seeing this? how could you be stressed after going through it? he was unrelenting and could stop himself from sighing in content. shotaro was coming towards his own climax, just from watching your squirms become more intense.

he wrapped a hand around your leg and pulled you closer. shotaro licked his hand and brought it to your chest. he rolled your sensitive nipples between his wet fingers, pinching harder until you brought your own hands to your chest. you placed your hand over his, guiding how you needed him to hold you. shotaro felt his mouth go agape slightly watching you touch yourself. he knew he told himself that he would be doing all the work, but something about both of you coming together to bring yourself pleasure drove him insane. shotaro had to let out a deep breath, he had to save whatever he had left for you. he turned up the speed and went faster, until your hand clutched onto his bicep. 

your eyes were fixed on shotaro as his expression got serious. he kept going, letting a glob of spit land on your cunt to add more lubrication. your nails dug into shotaro’s arm and he bit his lip.

“you close?” shotaro said, already knowing the answer.

“yeah.” you moaned.

shotaro smiled and continued the same speed.

“give it to me.” he said.

for a moment you were silent. it was only the sound of your computer fans whirring, the low sound of the vibrator, and the squelching that filled the room. it was you arching your back of the bed and shotaro egging you on, coaxing you to the edge. when you felt the tension snap again your whimpers came out in pants before a cry came from your throat. it got louder as shotaro didn’t stop, still thrusting the vibrator in and out of your heat. your nails didn’t let up in his bicep, gripping him so hard your body shook. your legs closed around shotaro’s hand, causing the leg on shotaro’s shoulder to pull him in. didn’t separate them, instead watching your body react with enchantment fueled by lust. 

shotaro didn’t stop until after your frantic head shakes turned weak, and your grip on his bicep went limp. shotaro pulled out the dildo quickly, letting it vibrate on your stomach before turning it off. your full body twitched from the situation, and continued to twitch as shotaro ran soothing hands across your body. he let you lay there limp as you caught your breath and gathered your composure.

“you okay?” he asked innocently.

shotaro asked the question like your twitching body wasn’t his fault. the smile on his face was small, pressing heart shaped kissing on your hot cheeks. your world was still spinning when your snoozed alarm went off again. thirty minutes slipped through your fingers, you weren’t sure if you could even get up anymore to make your way to the computer. your full body went slack, so loose you were almost limp. if it wasn’t for shotaro, you don’t think you could’ve turned the alarm off.

he set his phone back down on the bedside table, hovering over you as he continued to touch you gently. this time it was shotaro giving you a flurry of slow kisses, each one wetter than the last. shotaro helped you come back to earth quicker, silently letting your body gain it’s strength again. 

when you were ready, you propped yourself up on your elbows to look at him. you saw his full body, still in his undershirt and briefs. before you could reach for his waistband he spoke.

“i came.” shotaro said.

his confidence in the statement almost made you bashful. you only nodded, swallowing whatever spit you had in your mouth to try and wet your throat. 

you words inevitably came out hoarse and quiet, asking shotaro to cuddle with you. he got up from the bed quickly, taking the toys into the bathroom to be cleaned and coming back with a cold bottle of water. you downed it quickly, but not as fast as shotaro was coming back to bed. he didn’t bother to get changed and you didn’t bother to get dressed as you cuddled together above the sheets.