Work Text:
sanemi was all too familiar with tomioka’s house. he had been there tens of hundreds of times, whether he was there with their ridiculous friend or just the two of them just doing work together— either way, they all ended the same way. sanemi and giyuu fucking.
despite how much of an asshole sanemi tried to be to the quiet man, he was convinced he caught feelings for him. not a juvenile crush— real feelings, sanemi didn’t dare use the L-word. he found it so fucking embarrassing, humiliating. couldn’t he just have a hookup with no feelings attatched? he had done it before! what was he, some schoolgirl who fell for anyone who was remotely nice to her??
sanemi unlocked the door to giyuu’s house with a clenched jaw, and quietly stepped inside. it was unnerving to find it so... empty. there was always a stifling tension in there, and the absence of giyuu made it seem more like a crypt than usual. just like every house on the block, giyuu’s house was old and nearly falling apart, and it had kinda grown on sanemi if he was being honest. in his opinion, giyuu looked like he belonged one of those black and white photos where no one smiled.
sanemi turned and closed the door, locking it behind himself. he glanced at the wall adjacent to the door and noticed a crooked painting hanging on the wall. it was some shitty painting that the kamado boy had made for giyuu, he remembered that because giyuu had made sure to give it a special frame. a few weeks earlier, he had shoved the giyuu against the wall as they made out, apparently being a little too rough, as now the things being hung on the wall were askew. both men were too horny to notice.
ah, fuck, speaking of the kamados, sanemi had to drive nezuko to a girl scout cookie booth in an hour. which was one of giyuu's responsibilities that he had given to sanemi since he was out of town. the stupid fuck gave sanemi every single one of his chores, which made it seem like he and giyuu were closer than they actually were. giyuu was merely a friend... no, not even that. hardly even a mutual friend. just because they fucked, didn't mean shit. giyuu should have just of asked one of the kocho girls to do it, he was good friends with shinobu, somehow. though, he wouldn't put it past shinobu if she declined.
he straightened the picture before glancing down, with his arm up like that, giyuu could fit perfectly beneath him. oh, what he’d give to be pinning giyuu against the wall, lips roughly clashing together. to bite and suck on his soft neck. running his hands up his soft body and resting them on his waist, slowly meandering down to his waistband and-
sanemi tripped over a shoe that was sticking out into the walkway, though he was able to catch himself, he was now more pissed. he let out an annoyed grunt and kicked the shoe back in place before checking on the plants. most of them still had damp soil so he just left them alone. what was the point of having sanemi come over if giyuu had watered the plants before he left?
after awkwardly roaming through the halls, he found himself in the doorway of giyuu’s room. noticing how it was cleaner than usual, sanemi realized how big the bedroom actually was... it probably made sense it was clean. whenever sanemi was in there, he’d shuck their clothes off as fast as possible, not giving the slightest shit as to where they would land. occasionally, he knocked things off the bedside table or off a bookshelf when he was in a rush.
he kicked off his shoes and padded over to the queen-sized bed. he ran a hand across the soft blanket and paused to look at the corners, they were very poorly tucked under the mattress. sanemi couldn’t help but scoff. was giyuu some kind of animal? how could he not know how to make a bed? he decided to just make it since the thought of the unmade bed would bother him for the rest of the day.
sanemi denied it, but a small part of him insisted that he make the bed so giyuu will sleep better once he got home. he would've had a long flight home..
he pulled all the blankets off the bed and started with the sheets, tucking the corners under the mattress and neatly tugging it over the pillows. the same pillows he’d prop giyuu up against when he was too exhausted to continue. sanemi's cheeks grew color as the memories of all the times he and giyuu had fucked in that room.
sanemi didn't want to admit it, but missed giyuu. he missed giyuu so bad. not just his cunt, his frustrating vacant expression, his stupidly calm aura, his messy mop of hair, his thoughtful words. sanemi missed him and hated it.
he finished making the bed and fell back on it, staring at the spackled ceiling, staring at the little cat shaped water stain that giyuu once pointed out. he hated how vulnerable he was when it came to giyuu. how he would (begrudgingly) drop everything for giyuu. how he’d daydream about the fucking moron while he was supposed to be working. giyuu was so stupid. didn’t he know what he was doing to sanemi?
obviously not. giyuu didn’t seem to know much.. but that’s fine. it’s fine. sanemi is fine. giyuu is fine. they’re both fine. whatever scraps of a relationship they have is fine. the fucking houseplants were fine.
“fuck!” sanemi huffed and sat up from the bed, he fished in his pocket for his box of cigarettes. giyuu always nagged him whenever he smoked. well, giyuu wasn’t here right now, so he would have to fucking suck it up.
sanemi retrieved the box and pulled out a cigarette, he tapped it on his knee before sticking it in his mouth as he walked over to the window. he unlocked the rusty safety lock and attempted to shove the window up. to his surprise, it didn’t open.
“the fuck?” he muttered to himself and tried to shove the window open again. did it rust shut? he could’ve sworn he’d seen it open a few times.. was he hallucinating? sanemi removed the cigarette from his mouth and slid it back in the box, tossing it on the small bedside table. well, fuck. he needed something to help him unwind. since cigarettes were a no-go, he pondered for a moment.
masturbate.
no, no. he hated himself for thinking about doing that— especially at giyuu’s house. sanemi shouldn’t be doing this. fuck! maybe he should just find someone else to hookup with, they could just make it quick and then he could leave and it'd be over with! he could get his release and clear up his feelings. sanemi couldn’t help but feel like he’d be cheating if he slept with someone else...
which was completely ridiculous since giyuu and him weren’t dating. they weren’t boyfriends- hell, they were hardly friends. just two people who had mutual friends, like he said before... and they also happened to hook up with each other every week. he bit down on the inside of his cheeks and waited for a better idea. to no surprise, there was no better idea, or any ideas at all. he was going to jerk off in giyuu's god damn rickety ass house.
sanemi’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment and shame as he returned to the bed. he unbuckled his belt and slid his pants off. fuck- shit- he needed to stop, it wasn’t too early to quit all of this and walk out of the house and pretend he didn't have any of those thoughts. all he needed to do was text iguro and he'd have someone else..
he glanced at the floor where his pants lay, beside them was one of giyuu’s sweaters that he wore often.
don’t do it. don’t fucking do it.
he internally screamed at himself as he reached forward to grab the sweater. sanemi’s calloused hand brushed over the sweater before impulsively snatching it, pressing it against his face and taking a long inhale. his heart fluttered at the familiar scent of giyuu.
he rolled over onto his side and buried his face the clothing piece, starting to palm himself through his boxers. sanemi felt so pathetic. getting off the the fucking smell of some emotionless twat who didn’t reciprocate any of his pathetic feelings.
sanemi took another long inhale of the sweater and squeezed his eyes closed, as if that would change his situation. change the fact that he wanted to come home to his fuck-buddy everyday after work and make dinner for him. as if it would change his feelings.
his erection simply paid no mind to the typhoon of feelings swirling around in his head. soon he needed more, sanemi slid off his boxers that were slightly damp from precum and flung them across the room. did he seriously get that turned on by being in giyuu’s apartment?? maybe it was muscle memory, like the experiment that was done on dogs to make them salivate at the sound of a bell. but in this case, sanemi got hard whenever he was in giyuu’s place. yeah, because that was more realistic than him falling for giyuu.
he shivered at the cool air against his shaft and wasted no time grasping his cock. the contact felt satisfactory for hardly a few seconds before he was painfully reminded giyuu’s absence. there was no empty-headed moron there to suck him off or to touch him or to beg him for praise. sanemi let out a shaky sigh before he started to jerk himself off, dick twitching with impatience.
sanemi hastily slid his hand up and down his shaft, precum leaking from the tip and acting as lube. after a few messy strokes he found a steady pattern, pumping and pressing his thumb against the head every so often, sending shivers up his spine. the scent of wisteria and vanilla wafted into his nose, causing a small groan to unfurl from his throat. at this point, sanemi couldn’t find a fuck to give. it’s not like anyone would walk in on him, giyuu was going to be gone for two more weeks.
the only thing he’d be losing was his pride.. whatever, at least he felt good right now. sanemi let go of the sweater and shoved his hand in his messy, white hair. tugging on a fistful of hair, he tried to replicate what giyuu would do to him. if he kept his eyes shut long enough, he could imagine the inky black hair in between his legs that bobbed up and down, surrounding his dick in heat and wetness.
"h..hahh...." he panted pathetically, desperately fapping himself off, it hadn't even been a whole week since giyuu was gone and sanemi was just now realizing how whipped he was. was he whipped, or was he just really, painstakingly, pathetically horny? sanemi yanked his hair, slowly bucking his hips up into his hand, like pumping it wasn't enough.
he longed for giyuu to be there, to be bouncing on his dick and having his cunt take all of sanemi in, or to be sucking him off like a good boy, or even just watching him jerk off would be something to work with. he cracked open one of his eyes and looked toward the door, to find it, disappointingly empty. he let out an irritated huff through his nostrils, pissed he even thought giyuu would be there and even more pissed that he wanted to see giyuu there. he wanted to see giyuu standing in the doorway, staring at him with an expression of mild interest, sanemi having no idea what he was thinking about.
he could feel a warm pool forming in the bottom of his stomach and he went faster, letting go of his hair to take the sweater instead. sanemi pressed his face against it, muffling a handful of soft sobs as he grew nearer and nearer to cumming. sanemi squeezed tighter, trying to mimic the feeling of his cock stretching inside giyuu's cunt, but his calloused hands were nothing like his warmth and softness. his legs grew tense and his head shot back as cum spurted out of his cock and onto the sweater. panting, he jerked off for a few more seconds, trying to ride out his orgasm the best he could.
once he finally came down, he removed his hand from the sticky mess as he stared at the ceiling, at the little cat stain. it was probably disappointed in him. he didn't even want to think about what he had just done right now. he pushed himself up and shuffled to the bathroom to wash off. he looked at himself in the mirror, fixing his hair so he didn't look homeless when he picked nezuko up. sanemi concurred that he looked a lot better in the mirror when giyuu was there with him. when giyuu was damp with sweat and cum dripping from his hole and oozing down his legs, fixing his hair with a relaxed, content expression like he wasn't just railed.
he returned to the bedroom, picking up the sweater between his forefinger and thumb as if it was contaminated. he almost wanted to leave it and let the cum dry and get crusty so he could somehow get giyuu back for leaving. though, sanemi didn't want to get an earful, so he threw the sweater in the dirty laundry pile, cum side down, and began to put his pants on. coming to terms with what he just done was difficult, not that he came on the smell alone of giyuu, which was a whole other story, but that he was possibly in love with him. they had known each other for a while through mutual friends, but after spending so much time together, they had grown closer... right? sanemi thought there was some kind of romantic tension between the two of them. or was he just making things up to not feel utterly embarrassed?
sanemi was sure he wasn't making up the little side glances that giyuu gave him or each time he walked behind him he ran his hand across his back- like they were actually something. he couldn't possibly be looking into it too hard? he didn't need a fucking boyfriend! he had enough things to balance with genya, his damn apartment, college, and those goons he considered friends. he did not need a pretty boyfriend to do small things for and make meals for him and giving him trinkets that reminded him of him like a little plastic cat from one of those capsule machines that had mundane expression that looked exactly like giyuu...
god. this place was messing with his mind. he needed to get out of there.
he buttoned his pants and zipped up the fly before hastily heading out of the bedroom and through the hallway, taking one last look back at the apartment. still and silent. sanemi locked the door and slammed it shut.
__
giyuu arrived to an empty apartment, a small part of him disappointed, hoping to run into sanemi. he walked over to one of his potted plants and set his suitcase down, running his finger over the leaf, it looked like it was doing well. seems like sanemi really did come and watered his plants! giyuu felt a warm feeling unfurl in his chest and picked up his suitcase again as he lugged it to his room to unpack.
neither of them had realized that the plants were, in fact, fake.