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“I’m going to the store, I shouldn’t be long,” Itaru calls to Izumi where she sits at the kitchen table pouring over a neat stack of paperwork.
She looks up when she hears him, and offers a smile and a nod. “We’ll see you in a bit, then. Drive safe.” He waits a moment longer to see if she’s going to ask for anything herself, but she goes back to the paper in front of her. Must be the budget for the next show.
His keys jingle audibly as he turns to grab the door handle, pausing with his hand on the metal when he hears Sakyo call out to him. “Would you mind if I came along? I’d have some things I’d like to get.”
Itaru narrows his eyes ever so slightly, but smiles pleasantly and gives him a shrug. “I don’t see why not.”
He turns back around and pulls the door open, stepping out into the brisk air. Hearing the heels of Sakyo’s dress shoes clicking against the hardwood as he follows him out, Itaru figures Sakyo’s close enough behind him that he doesn’t need to wait for him.
Sakyo is right behind him, more or less, catching up to Itaru as he unlocks his car. Itaru eyes up his coat, which he’s holding in his hands still. “Not gonna put that on?” he asks, the corner of his mouth pulling upward ever so slightly.
“I don’t think I’ll need to,” Sakyo answers, and his tone makes Itaru smile ever so slightly wider.
Itaru doesn’t reply to that, pulling open the door and getting in with Sakyo following suit. He locks the door beside him, a habit, and starts the car. If he puts something on the stereo he knows Sakyo will turn it off just as soon as he’s put it on, so he doesn’t bother. They pull out of the driveway, silent except for the easy hum of the engine.
It doesn’t last long. As soon as they’re on open road, Itaru opens his mouth. “Just couldn’t wait, huh?”
“You have a lot of nerve if you thought you were going to get away with being a tease all day,” Sakyo retorts sharply. He doesn’t turn his head, continuing to stare out the front window, but his tone alone is enough to send a cool shiver down Itaru’s spine.
“You’re still stuck on that?” Itaru feigns surprised amusement, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel to no particular rhythm. Of course Sakyo is, Itaru very much made sure of it— but there’s no fun in admitting that.
“I am.” The short answer and Sakyo’s harsh tone betray that, yes, he is very much in for it tonight, just as he’d intended.
Itaru is absolutely the worst thing that could have happened to Sakyo, and he takes an inordinate amount of pride in that.
Pulling the car into a dark side alley in a quieter part of the district, Itaru kills the engine and pulls the keys from the ignition, dropping them in the console for him to have to look for later. Foresight, how could he be expected to have such a thing?
He turns to say something to Sakyo but isn’t given the chance as Sakyo grabs him by the tie and jerks him forward, crushing their lips together. Itaru is all too eager to reciprocate, losing himself in the bruising force of Sakyo’s lips. Sakyo bites at the soft skin of his bottom lip as Itaru reaches out to grip blindly at his shoulders, moaning against his mouth.
At the sound, Sakyo grabs Itaru by the jaw hard enough that he feels it in the bone, keeping him still as he pulls away. “I thought I was the eager one,” he muses. Despite the grip, Itaru manages a toothy grin. “Backseat.”
With his jaw freed, Itaru immediately comes back with a “pushy as every,” something that earns him an unimpressed glare from Sakyo. He shrugs off his blazer, leaving it haphazardly draped over the steering wheel as he climbs over the console into the back. As many times as they’ve done this same song and dance, Itaru’s heart rate still spikes as he lies himself as best he can on his backseat. He’s half propped up on his elbows with one leg dangling off the seats as Sakyo settles between his legs, taking in the sight of him with an impassive expression.
He’s taking too long. “Are you gonna do something, or just—”
“Shut up.” They both know Itaru doesn’t intend to, so Sakyo keeps talking before he has the chance to start. “You’re not usually still wearing a tie this late,” Sakyo observes, reaching a hand down to run his fingers down the length of the fabric.
“Must have forgotten to change,” Itaru hums.
“Must have,” Sakyo parrots him, tugging at the tie to see how much give it has to it. “Sit up.”
“But I just laid down,” he pouts, giving Sakyo his best worst puppy dog eyes. Unimpressed, Sakyo grabs him by the arms and pulls him up himself, an action that Itaru can’t help but grin at.
“Arms behind your back,” Sakyo says, already undoing the knot of Itaru’s tie and pulling it off.
Itaru’s pout deepens. “Ehhh… but my backseats so small, I’m going to throw my shoulder out or something.”
“Do you want me to fuck you or not, brat?” Sakyo spits.
Itaru smiles; a languid, amused thing. “I could take it or leave it.” Sakyo narrows his eyes. “You, on the other hand, seem pretty worked up, old man.”
He knows how much that gets under Sakyo’s skin, proven to be effective yet again as manhandles Itaru into a proper sitting position so that he can reach behind him to pull his arms together. “Make sure to tie it right this time,” Itaru teases as Sakyo goes about binding his hands with his tie. “It came undone last time.”
“Do you ever get tired of the sound of your own voice?” Sakyo asks, tugging on the bindings to make sure they’ll hold. He seems satisfied, and Itaru gives it a go as well and gets nowhere. Excellent.
“Nope~”
Itaru turns again so that he’s sitting sideways on the seat, Sakyo makes short work of pushing him down onto his back. Itaru rolls his shoulders, making sure he isn’t actually likely to pull anything, because who wants to explain that to their GP?
With Itaru’s hands finally out of the way Sakyo makes short work of the buttons on his shirt, letting his fingers ghost over the skin underneath as he pushes it open as much as he can with the position of Itaru’s arms.
“Didn’t occur to you take it off before you went through all the trouble of tying me up, huh?” Itaru teases, revelling in the way his stomach clenches at the feather light touches to his chest.
“You say that like I need to take it off,” Sakyo retorts, pinching one of Itaru’s nipples hard between his thumb and index finger. Itaru’s only immediate response to that is a moan, arching up into it. He repeats the motion again, pulling at the nipple as well as he gropes at the other side of Itaru’s chest with his other hand. Itaru’s response is more or less the same, moaning a little louder and arching even further off the seat into Sakyo’s touch.
“You’re shameless,” Sakyo laughs.
“Duh.” Itaru gives him an absolutely devilish grin. “You’d have so much less fun with me if I wasn’t.” Sakyo doesn’t dispute this, instead slotting his knee properly between Itaru’s legs as he continues to play with his chest. Itaru, shameless as he is, has absolutely no problem grinding his dick against Sakyo’s thigh. “Who the fuck else is— haah— going to let a dirty old pervert like you tie them up in the— nngh— back of their car?”
“I’m only six years older than you,” Sakyo chastises him, pinching one of his nipples particularly hard and earning a wanton moan from the man under him.
“Who cares.” Itaru squirms under him, at the complete mercy of merciless hands and unable to get any real friction with the way Sakyo has his leg. “Are you waiting for me to get myself off on your leg, or do you plan on fucking me at some point?” He huffs, trying to emphasise his point by grinding up against Sakyo’s thigh and failing for the most part.
Sakyo makes a thoughtful noise, idly thumbing at Itaru’s nipples despite his squirming. “Now that you mention it, I’m not so sure.” Itaru glares at him. “It might be fun to see if you’re enough of a slut to get yourself off like that.”
First things first, Itaru definitely is, he just had other plans for the night. “Come onnnn,” Itaru whines. “Don’t be an asshole, just fuck me.”
Sayko responds with a sharp tsk. “Not with manners like those.”
“Oh?” Itaru laughs harshly. “So, what, now you’re getting off to me begging?”
“Don’t be crude,” Sakyo sighs, rolling a nipple between is fingers to emphasise whatever point he’s trying to make. What point is he trying to make, again? “I’m just trying to teach you some manners, because no one seemed to have bothered before now.”
“Well you’re doing a shit job,” Itaru gripes.
At that, Sakyo takes his hands off Itaru’s just and sits back, pulling his knee away as well. He watches with bored expression as Itaru squirms against the seat fabric. “Come the fuck on,” he curses, trying to kick Sakyo. It doesn’t do any good, with Sakyo effortlessly pinning his leg to the seat by his ankle.
“If you want, I can untie you and we can go home,” Sakyo offers, voice a mockery of politeness.
“You’re such a bitch.” Sakyo smiles at the insult, spit like acid. Unable to do much else, Itaru does what he’s been asked. “Sakyo, please fuck me.”
“Say it again.”
He watches Itaru physically bite back another comment, looking thoroughly frustrated with the situation he’s found himself in. “Please fuck me, Sakyo. I literally need you to fuck me right now,” he begs, voice rough around the edges. “Please don’t just leave me like this—” and with an embarrassed noise, “ Please .”
Sakyo looks quite pleased with himself, letting go of Itaru’s ankle to grab for his belt buckle. He undoes it quickly and tosses it to the side, and at the very lease Itaru can be a little pleased that Sakyo is very much as eager to fuck him as he is to take it.
Itaru’s rid of his pants and briefs, and just as quickly Sakyo is pulling a packet of lube from his pocket and tearing it open. Instinctively, Itaru spreads his legs as best he can in the cramped backseat, giving as much access as he can to Sakyo. He hasn’t been touched yet, but his dick’s already leaking over his stomach, just as eager as the rest of him.
“Such a perfect ass.” The sound of Sakyo slapping it is deafening in the small car, as is the moan that follows it. “I’m glad you’re putting it to good use.”
“From where I’m sitting, it’s not being put to any use,” Itaru complains, something met with another sharp smack to the other cheek. “C-Can you just hurry up already? I have shit to do.”
“I’m sure your computer games can wait.”
“They’re not c—” Whatever protest Itaru had is cut short by a moan as Sakyo sinks a finger into him, pushing it in as deep as he can get it with the awkward angle.
“They’re not what?” Sakyo asks, pulling out and thrusting his finger back in. He doesn’t wait to start fucking him with it, with the amount that he’s in Itaru’s ass he knows a single finger is no problem.
Itaru scowls at him, though it doesn’t land all that hard with how flushed his cheeks are. “Fuck off.”
Sakyo adds a second finger quickly, going to work at properly stretching him open. Seemingly finally conscious of his volume Itaru bites his bottom lip bard, not silencing his noises entirely, but muffling them at the very least. When Itaru starts to grind down against Sakyo’s knuckles is when he adds a third finger, fucking him at a generous pace.
After experimenting with the angle and curl of his fingers, he finally thrusts his fingers against Itaru’s prostate, causing the younger man to cry out, hips instinctively bucking up and finding nothing. “C-Come on, ‘s this all you’ve got?” It’s hard for Sakyo to take Itaru seriously at the best of time, but downright impossible to take him seriously with his cheeks burning and a trail of spit leaking from his mouth.
Still, he must agree because he pulls his fingers from Itaru, something that is met with a displeased whine. There’s no complaint to follow it, however, as Sakyo works his slacks down just as much as needed to pull his dick out, hastily coating it with the remainder of the lube.
The one time Itaru seems willing to cooperate is when Sakyo pulls his hips off the seat, lining himself up with Itaru’s hole. Itaru opens his mouth to say God knows what, but Sakyo is quick to cut him off by pushing himself in until he bottoms out, hips flush against Itaru’s ass.
He gives Itaru only enough time to adjust before starting to fuck him, fingers digging into the skin of his hip and thigh. Sakyo starts to move, pushing into Itaru with slow, shallow thrusts. It doesn’t last long, with Sakyo quickly picking up his pace until he’s snapping his hips and Itaru is crying out a series of things, most of which sound like profanities (a couple of which sound like Sakyo’s name).
The peace doesn’t last, however.
“S-Seriously, t-this it old man?” Itaru manages to cough out, and Sakyo responds the only way Itaru could possible want him to— deepening the angle by leaning over him, and wrapping his right hand around his throat.
Itaru’s moaning before Sakyo’s even tightened his grip, and the sound maintains itself until it’s choked off by Sakyo’s hand. “That’s better, don’t you think?” Sakyo’s voice is strained as he’s met with a hoarse moan from Itaru, who is capable of little else.
Sakyo’s hips hit against Itaru’s ass as he bottoms out as he grinds his hips to get as deep inside him as possible with every thrust, fucking into him as hard as he likes. Itaru hardly minds, rough moans barely managing to escape his throat as tears prick at his eyes. There’s a loose, easy smile on his face, and Sakyo can’t quite tell if he’s looking at him or the ceiling.
After another sharp thrust , Itaru cries out loudly enough it’s perfectly audible even with Sakyo’s hand around his throat as he comes untouched over his stomach. The feeling of Itaru tightening around him as he comes on his cock is enough to push Sakyo sharply toward the edge. Losing his rhythm, he continues to fuck into the now very pliant Itaru, who whimpers with each thrust. Several sharp thrusts later, Sakyo buries himself as deeply as he can before spilling inside him with a wracked groan, Itaru moaning softly as Sakyo fills him up.
Sakyo lets go of Itaru’s neck, who lets his head fall back as he catches him breath. Sakyo works to catch his breath as well, before pulling out of the man under him. Itaru again whines at the loss, but not nearly as wholeheartedly as before.
“‘m not moving for a solid ten minutes,” he grumbles, closing his eyes.
“I’m not letting you fall asleep like this,” Sakyo sighs, tapping Itaru’s thigh to try and get him up.
“Didn’t say anything about sleeping. Just lying here.”
“At least let me untie you,” Sakyo says, tapping Itaru’s thigh again.
“No,” he replies, adamant. “Do it in ten minutes.”
“You’re such a brat,” Sakyo groans, but ultimately yields, leaning back against the seat to rest a moment himself. “Ten minutes, no more.”
“Whatever.”