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The apartment was silent when Suguru unlocked the door, save for the faint hum of the refrigerator and the occasional creak of the old wooden floorboards. Moonlight spilled through the large living room window, painting the space in muted shades of silver and gray. The single lamp near the couch glowed dimly, casting soft shadows that danced lazily on the walls.
Suguru stepped inside, closing the door quietly behind him. The mission had been grueling, not because of any particular difficulty, but because of the sheer tedium of it. Negotiating, cleaning up after others' mistakes, and holding back from using brute force just to end it all faster. His patience had frayed long before the end, leaving him simmering with a frustration he hadn’t had the luxury to address. Now, every step he took felt heavier, tension coiled tight in his body like a spring on the verge of snapping.
He shrugged off his coat, letting it fall carelessly onto the back of the nearest chair, and turned toward the couch.
There he was.
Satoru.
The "strongest," as the world loved to call him. An untouchable force, revered and feared in equal measure. Yet here he lay, curled on their couch in nothing but a pair of snug white briefs and one of Suguru’s old sweatshirts. The fabric hung loose on him, slipping off one pale shoulder to reveal the delicate curve of his collarbone and the faint remnants of fading bruises. Satoru’s snowy hair was tousled, splayed messily against the armrest, and his lips were slightly parted, soft breaths escaping in the rhythm of sleep.
For a moment, Suguru simply stared.
Satoru always drew eyes—his overwhelming presence demanded it—but like this, he was something else entirely. He wasn’t the indomitable sorcerer who could dismantle armies with a flick of his wrist. He was just... his Satoru. Warm, vulnerable, impossibly beautiful.
His throat tightened.
The sweatshirt looked far better on Satoru than it had any right to. The oversized fabric bunched in places, teasing glimpses of pale skin, and the hem rode up just enough to show the gentle dip of his waist. Suguru’s eyes lingered, taking in the sight of him curled on the couch, peaceful in a way that felt rare and fragile.
Satoru didn’t sleep often, rarely deeply, at least. When he actually slept, it was at a specific time of the early morning, leaving him vulnerable in a way that only a handful of people ever witnessed. It was a reminder that, despite his unshakable confidence and godlike power, Satoru was human. And tonight, Suguru knew he had waited for him, fighting off exhaustion until his body gave in.
The realization tugged at Suguru’s chest, equal parts guilt and tenderness. He’d arrived late, too late to find Satoru awake and full of his usual sharp wit. But perhaps that was a blessing. Here, in the quiet glow of their apartment, Suguru could see the sides of Satoru the world wasn’t allowed to touch.
It wasn’t just how the sweatshirt hung on him, or the pale strands of his hair splayed against the cushions. It was the way Satoru’s guard had fallen entirely, his expression soft and unburdened. In this apartment—and by extension, in Suguru’s presence—he was safe. He could rest.
The sight stirred something deep in Suguru’s chest, affection mingling with a flicker of something far more primal. The strongest sorcerer in the world, unshakable and untouchable, was utterly his in these moments.
The tension in Suguru’s body shifted, no longer rooted in irritation or fatigue. Instead, it coiled low in his abdomen, an ache born of desire and need.
He took a step closer, his boots making the faintest sound against the floor.
The closer he got, the more impossible it became to resist him. The faint lavender scent of Satoru’s shampoo mixed with the lingering musk of his sweatshirt, a combination so intimately theirs that it made his head spin. His gaze drifted downward, catching the curve of Satoru’s thighs where the fabric of his underwear hugged too tightly, clinging to the curve of his hips and the faint outline of his— Suguru’s throat tightened.
A flicker of guilt flared in Suguru’s chest. He shouldn’t. Satoru needed to rest, and Suguru’s own frustration shouldn’t rob him of that. But the longer he stood there, watching Satoru’s chest rise and fall, the more impossible it became to think clearly.
Gods, how could anyone blame him?
“Satoru,” Suguru murmured, testing. No response. He tried again, letting his fingers brush lightly against Satoru’s exposed shoulder. The touch was featherlight, but enough to make Satoru stir. A sleepy hum escaped his lips as he shifted slightly, his legs moving just enough to reveal more of himself.
He couldn’t take back the hours he’d spent away, the lateness of his return. But now, he could care for him, his Satoru.
Suguru knelt beside the couch, brushing his knuckles lightly over Satoru’s cheek. His skin was warm under his touch, and Satoru stirred slightly, a faint hum leaving his parted lips. Suguru smiled softly.
“You waited for me,” he murmured, voice low, though he knew Satoru was far too deep in sleep to hear him. “I’m here now.”
A pulse of heat surged through Suguru, sharp and insistent. He bit the inside of his cheek, struggling for restraint, but every second he spent standing there, hovering above his oblivious partner, made it harder to think clearly.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” he murmured, his voice low and thick with want.
And maybe it was exhaustion, or frustration, or the magnetic pull of Satoru’s presence, but Suguru knew he wasn’t leaving this moment unscathed. Not tonight.
Brushing the hem of the sweatshirt up to expose more of Satoru’s smooth, pale skin his fingers followed, tracing over the dip of his waist, the gentle curve of his hips. Every touch felt electric, and when Satoru let out another sleepy murmur, his lips curling into a faint smile, Suguru’s resolve snapped.
Suguru’s fingers dipped lower, to where the thin fabric of Satoru’s underwear clung to the soft swell of his cunt. The outline was unmistakable, and it sent a pulse of heat straight to Suguru’s core.
Gods, he could feel the way it pressed against the fabric as if inviting him to touch, to taste, to claim.
Satoru stirred faintly but didn’t wake, his body relaxing even further into the cushions.
That was all the permission Suguru needed.
Leaning in, he pressed a soft kiss to the exposed curve of Satoru’s shoulder, his lips lingering against the warm skin. He inhaled deeply,
“Mine,” he whispered, leaning down to press a kiss just below Satoru’s ear.
The strongest? Maybe to everyone else.
But here, now?
He was just Satoru. His Satoru.
“You really shouldn’t make it this easy for me,” he murmured, his voice barely audible over the sound of his own heartbeat.
Suguru’s fingers continued grazing on the edge of Satoru’s briefs. His touch was featherlight, more exploratory than insistent, but the feel of that soft skin beneath his fingertips sent a shiver down his spine.
Satoru shifted again, slightly. A soft sound escaped his lips as his legs parted just enough to reveal more of himself.
And he couldn’t hold back any longer.
Suguru’s breathing grew heavier as his gaze traced the outline of Satoru’s body. The faint moonlight spilled over pale skin, the curve of his thighs, and the damp spot forming at the center of his underwear. It was almost cruel how tempting he looked, completely unaware of the storm Suguru was fighting within himself.
Leaning closer, Suguru slid his hands beneath the hem of the sweatshirt, his palms gliding up Satoru’s torso. His skin was warm, soft, and as Suguru’s fingers brushed over the dips and planes of his abdomen, Satoru’s body responded instinctively. His breathing deepened, his chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm that begged to be interrupted.
“You don’t even realize how irresistible you are,” Suguru murmured. His words were low and edged with reverence, but his touch betrayed his desperation.
As his hands trailed lower, Suguru shifted, now on the sofa, settling between Satoru’s legs. Carefully, almost reverently, he pressed a knee into the couch to steady himself. His fingers grazed the waistband of Satoru’s briefs, pausing for a heartbeat before sliding the fabric to the side.
What lay beneath made Suguru’s restraint falter entirely.
The soft folds of Satoru’s cunt were flushed, glistening faintly in the dim light. His arousal was evident, slick pooling and catching the light as if his body had been anticipating Suguru all along. The sight sent a jolt of desire straight to Suguru’s core, and he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out.
“Fuck, Satoru,” he breathed, his voice raw with hunger. He ran a thumb gently over the slick folds, watching the way Satoru’s body twitched in response, as if even in sleep, he recognized Suguru’s touch.
Unable to resist, Suguru slid two fingers inside.
The heat enveloping him was overwhelming, and Suguru groaned quietly at the sensation. Satoru’s walls clenched instinctively around him, the wetness coating his fingers as he pressed deeper, exploring every inch with care. The sound of slick against skin was obscene in the quiet room, but it only spurred Suguru on.
Satoru stirred, a soft whimper escaping his lips as his hips shifted slightly, pressing closer to Suguru’s hand. His breathing grew uneven, and a faint blush crept up his neck.
“Suguru…” The name left Satoru’s lips in a breathy, almost inaudible murmur, and Suguru’s heart skipped a beat.
“Shh, it’s me,” Suguru whispered, leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of Satoru’s mouth. “You’re so perfect like this. You don’t even know what you do to me.”
His fingers moved slowly, curling inside to press against that sweet spot that he knew would unravel Satoru completely, at the same time his thumb caressed the swollen clit. The effect was immediate. Satoru’s legs twitched, and a quiet moan escaped him, muffled as his lips parted.
Suguru couldn’t tear his eyes away, watching as Satoru’s body responded so beautifully to his touch.
“You’re so wet for me,” Suguru murmured, his lips brushing against Satoru’s ear. “Even now, you’re ready to take me, aren’t you?”
Satoru’s lashes fluttered, and his hips bucked slightly, as if to chase the pleasure Suguru was giving him. The line between sleep and wakefulness was blurred, but Suguru could feel his body was already surrendering, instinctively trusting to guide him.
“My Satoru,” Suguru whispered, his voice deep and possessive. He pressed a kiss to the sensitive skin just beneath Satoru’s ear before nipping at it gently. “Always mine.”
Suguru’s fingers moved with deliberate care, thrusting in and out of Satoru’s slick heat, curling slightly to press again and again onto that sensitive spot. His thumb continued brushing over the swollen clit, the soft broken whimpers from Satoru were more and more agitated, which sent a jolt of arousal through him.
“Look at you,” Suguru murmured, his voice rough with want as he watched the slow, sleepy arch of Satoru’s body. His snow-white lashes stayed pressed to flushed cheeks, and his lips, full and slightly parted, trembled with every shaky breath. Suguru knew, since the first time he saw him, and now many years later he was so sure, Satoru was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
The sight undid him. He couldn’t hold back any longer.
Withdrawing his fingers, slick with Satoru’s arousal, he brought them to his lips, tasting the sweetness of him. It wasn’t enough. It was never enough. He reached for the waistband of his pants, pushing them down with unsteady hands, letting his aching cock spring free. The cool air offered no relief to the throbbing heat, but as he adjusted Satoru’s pliant body on the couch, positioning himself between those long, pale legs, he knew exactly how to find it.
Suguru’s hands spread Satoru open, the glistening folds of his cunt flushed and inviting. His breath caught at the sight, his chest tightening with an overwhelming surge of love and need. He lowered his hips, brushing the head of his cock over the slick, sensitive entrance. The sensation made him shudder, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip to stifle a groan.
“No matter how many times,” he murmured, his voice a hushed reverence. Suguru wasn't fond of sweets, not like Satoru, but he was addicted to Satoru's taste, it was his only and favorite sweet. “You’re always the sweetest. Only for me to taste.”
He pressed forward slowly, savoring every inch as Satoru’s body yielded to him, enveloping him in impossible warmth. Suguru’s breath stuttered, and he paused to relish the tight, pulsing grip around him. His hands gripped Satoru’s thighs, spreading them even wider to watch as his cock disappeared into the perfect, wet heat.
Satoru’s breathing quickened, a soft, barely audible moan slipping past his lips. He shifted under Suguru, his legs falling open just a bit more, as if to welcome him deeper.
“Shh,” Suguru whispered, leaning over to kiss Satoru’s temple. “You’re doing so well for me, Toru. So perfect.”
He began to move, his thrusts slow and deep, the wet, rhythmic sounds of their connection filling the quiet of the room. The sensation of Satoru’s tight heat clutching at him was intoxicating, and Suguru could feel his control slipping with each glide of his cock.
Beneath him, Satoru whimpered softly, his lips forming incoherent words that never fully escaped. The faint glow of moonlight cast over his body only heightened his beauty, painting him in shades of silver and shadow. To Suguru, he looked divine, untouchable to anyone but him.
The coil of pleasure tightened in Suguru’s gut, but he forced himself to focus on Satoru’s every sound, every shiver. His hand moved down to press against Satoru’s lower belly, where he could feel himself buried deep inside.
“Feel that?” he murmured, his voice shaking. “That’s me, filling you up. Taking you,Toru.”
Satoru let out a breathy moan, his head tilting back as his hands finally lifted, weakly clutching at Suguru’s forearm. His hips bucked, meeting Suguru’s thrusts with an urgency that made Suguru’s vision blur.
“More,” Satoru breathed, his voice barely audible, but it was enough to unravel Suguru completely.
“Always,” Suguru promised, leaning down to capture Satoru’s parted lips in a deep, searing kiss as he thrust into him with renewed fervor.
Suguru’s pace quickened, his control unraveling as Satoru’s body responded to him, pulling him deeper into that intoxicating heat. The rhythmic slap of their bodies filled the air, mingling with Satoru’s soft, breathy moans, and Suguru felt himself teetering on the edge.
He gripped Satoru’s hips tightly, his fingers pressing into soft skin as he thrust harder, deeper, chasing the inevitable release. Every movement was laced with desperation, his need to claim Satoru wholly and irrevocably overwhelming him.
“Satoru,” Suguru groaned, his voice strained and heavy with need. He leaned down, capturing the curve of Satoru’s neck with his lips, nipping at the sensitive skin as his hips snapped forward relentlessly.
The sounds spilling from Satoru’s lips were like a symphony, each one spurring Suguru closer to the edge. The warmth, the slickness, the way Satoru’s body clung to him, it was all too much. He buried himself to the hilt, trembling as he spilled deep inside, his release leaving him breathless and shaking.
He stayed there for a moment, panting against Satoru’s shoulder, feeling the aftershocks of his orgasm ripple through both of them. Satoru let out a soft hum, his body relaxing entirely, as if even in his hazy state, he trusted Suguru to take care of him.
Suguru pressed a lingering kiss to Satoru’s temple before pulling out carefully, watching as his release trickled from Satoru’s spent body. The sight sent another shiver through him, a possessive satisfaction settling in his chest.
He leaned down to whisper against Satoru’s ear, “You looked so ready to take me”
Suguru adjusted Satoru’s loose clothing and scooped him up effortlessly, carrying him through the dimly lit living room to their bedroom. The weight of him in his arms was grounding, a reminder that after a long, shitty day, of what truly mattered.
Laying Satoru gently on the bed, Suguru moved to the bathroom to grab a damp cloth. He returned and cleaned him carefully, removing his underwear and sweater, revealing the strong and pale but fairly bruised from their previous encounters, his touch tender and reverent. Once Satoru was settled, Suguru undressed, tossing his clothes aside before slipping under the covers to join him.
Satoru stirred slightly, his eyes fluttering open as a sleepy, teasing smile curled on his lips. “You couldn’t wait for me to wake up, huh?”
He chuckled, pulling Satoru closer and tucking him against his chest. “I thought you’d enjoy the surprise,” he murmured, his lips brushing the top of Satoru’s snowy hair.
Satoru hummed contentedly, nuzzling against Suguru’s warmth. “I bet you looked so pitiful begging for my cunt unable to control yourself,” he said as he pouted. “I like seeing you lose control.”
Suguru felt his heart swell, the weight of his earlier mission lifting as he held Satoru in his arms. “You’re insufferable, you know that? As if you’re never begged for me to fuck you,” he said, though his tone was soft, filled with affection.
Satoru chuckled, his voice low and lazy, asking in the middle of a yawn. “So, how was your mission? Did you just deal with the curses, or did you have to report with the old farts too?”
Suguru sighed, letting his chin rest atop Satoru’s head. “Both. Exorcised the curses, then got roped into reporting to the higher-ups. A complete pain, as always. But I made it back.”
“Late,” Satoru teased, poking Suguru’s side lightly.
Suguru smiled, tightening his arms around him. “Late, but I’m here. And…” He tilted Satoru’s face up gently, meeting his half-lidded gaze.
He paused, reflecting on the bitterness of his work, endlessly fighting curses, dealing with the worst humanity had to offer. Yet, all of it seemed to fade away in moments like this. The sweetness of Satoru, that one side that was shown only for him , irresistible and insatiable, was enough to erase the bitter taste.
Suguru pressed a lingering kiss to Satoru’s forehead, letting the quiet of the room settle around them. “With you, Toru, the world feels bearable again.”
Satoru murmured something unintelligible as the brief but heavy sleep claimed him, a small smile still on his lips. Suguru held him close, letting himself finally relax, the weight of the day dissolving in the warmth of the man he loved more than anything.