Work Text:
Ogata Hyakunosuke enjoyed his job. Computers, and electronics in general, were always reliable; always the same. Ogata admittedly found it difficult to maintain relationships with other human beings, but at least he knew if he couldn’t understand how people worked, he knew exactly how to do most anything when he had a computer mouse in his hand. Ogata’s job, though, is exactly how he found himself in his current situation.
Stepping into the small home, Ogata was met with a disheveled sight. It was commonplace for Ogata to be among the likes of many different individuals, for many different reasons. He has had to regretfully inform some that the liquid they spilled on their laptop meant the loss of sentimental family photos, and sometimes, he had to go to important government buildings when they had issues with their computers; as well as everything in between. Ogata also sometimes designed websites from the comfort of his apartment, but that was something he did on the side that didn’t directly have to do with his employment. Ogata’s job, most of the time, entailed helping people in their homes with technical issues, and downloading software for companies, as well as teaching them how to use electronics.
Ogata was currently on a remote call to try and retrieve the data from a damaged computer that wouldn’t turn on anymore, and although it sounded grim by the look of the client’s online application, the man was willing to try his hand at saving the precious data. He did this a lot, after all. But, as soon as Ogata saw his client, he knew that this wouldn’t be as cut and dry as he had hoped. The frantic yet composed man with a backwards baseball cap on his head answered the door; his brunette hair messily bursting from the sides of the dark blue hat as if it wanted to escape. The man adorned a white t-shirt and basketball shorts with distinctive facial scars to top it off; and Ogata wondered what he was getting himself into today. As previously mentioned, the place was a mess. Some clothes littered on the floor of the living room as if it was a bedroom, and take-out packaging that was probably from two weeks ago sat on the coffee table. But, it did make sense, considering it was a young man around his own age who owned the place. Even Ogata admittedly lost track of his chores as a bachelor.
“Man… thanks for coming out here. I really hope you can help us out. I coach kid’s hockey, and one of my kids got a puck slammed against the damned computer,”
Ogata’s client explained as he led him to his bedroom, where the supposed computer must have been. Ogata didn’t even know where to begin when it came to this story, which apparently resulted in the computer being damaged. Hockey…. inside?
“Should I even ask how that happened?”
Ogata inquired, trailing behind his client. A layer of amusement was coated over his words as he spoke, it wasn’t too often he heard a case like this. Although, his question was answered for him as they arrived at the bedroom, in a similar state as the rest of the house. Ogata didn’t really care about that, though. He had seen worse. On the bed sat a brunette little boy, a look of guilt on his face as he gripped a hockey puck; the hockey stick that must have also belonged to him leaning against the bed frame. An interesting looking man with a shaved head sat next to him, patting him on the back.
“It’s okay! You didn’t mean to do it,”
The man tried to comfort the child, who’s attention was then captured by the arrival of Ogata and his scarred client. The shaven-headed man looked up a moment later, his reaction lagging.
“Oh! Sugimoto, I’m glad the guy is here, finally.”
Sugimoto. Ogata took a mental note of the name of his client, stealing a glance at him to confirm or deny if the name suited him. It seemed good enough.
“I’m sorry, Sugimoto! I know you told me to not practice in the house… I just got carried away when I came in here to get some water, the puck went all the way from the kitchen to here!”
The small child scrambled to explain himself to Sugimoto, and Sugimoto let out a deep breath as he approached the boy and got down to his level, smiling at him and messing up his hair in a way of endearment.
“It’s all good, Cikapasi. I know you didn’t mean to. But let’s try to be more careful next time, huh?”
Ogata quirked his eyebrow to himself at the bizarre name of the child, which must have been a nickname, he supposed. As the guilty child was explaining himself and being reassured by the two men, Ogata peered out of the door and confirmed that the kitchen was right across from the bedroom. He could imagine the little boy hitting the puck too hard, his face watching in horror as it slid into the room and smashed into the computer. He almost wanted to laugh at the internal vision.
But, Ogata couldn’t proceed until he was guided more by Sugimoto on the damages. He stood there, observing as the buzzcut man stole a glance toward him and said something quietly to Sugimoto, who then rose and turned around, greeting Ogata with a sympathetic smile.
“Sorry! Here’s the computer as you can see…”
He started, bending down halfway to reach the mouse sitting on the small desk. He clicked it repeatedly and moved it around, seeming to confirm to Ogata that the monitor screen was unresponsive. Ogata noted the large, puck shaped dent in the screen, and he internally cringed at it.
“It doesn’t really work anymore, but I have some important pictures and other stuff stored onto it… I would really hate to lose it.”
Sugimoto explained. It was an all too familiar story to Ogata. He let out a short breath, only noticeable to himself; before pulling over the astray computer chair that he figured paired with the desk. Sugimoto noticed this, getting out of the way as Ogata pulled up a seat in front of the desk.
“Well, this is why I recommend you don’t store important things only onto the computer, with no type of backup.”
Ogata scolded Sugimoto with a sickeningly matter-of-fact tone, which made Sugimoto frown, annoyed. Sugimoto didn’t feel like being lectured by someone he was paying to restore his computer data.
“It’s a little late for that, isn’t it? But thanks for the tip… I’ll keep that in mind.”
Sugimoto’s tone was passive aggressive.
The buzz cut man, as Ogata knew him, seemed to not want to deal with whatever tension was brewing, and rose to his feet from the bed, taking the little boy’s hockey stick with him.
“Well! I suppose that’s our cue to leave! Hope it all
works out!”
The man hurriedly said, taking the boy’s hand in his and leaving the room, the door shutting behind them. Ogata didn’t say anything about this; and neither did Sugimoto.
Ogata carried on with his work, not really caring about if he had an audience or not. He had been carrying a toolbox of sorts in his hand; a detail not that important until now. Ogata set down the box onto the desk and opened it up, retrieving some tools he would need to open up the monitor. He figured that an important component got crushed by the puck, and replacing it would cause the monitor to at least turn on so his client could retrieve the photos he wanted. Getting the damaged screen replaced would probably cost the amount of a new monitor anyway, so he was better off buying a new one altogether. Ogata was currently wrapped up in removing the screen of the monitor, but his senses perked up a bit when he heard the squeak of a bed frame. The man glanced over to see Sugimoto had taken a seat on the unmade bed to watch as Ogata worked. Ogata just shifted his attention back to what he was doing, not sparing a word.
“Do you think you can fix it?”
Sugimoto’s voice broke the silence, sounding rather anxious, but hopeful simultaneously. Ogata let the words marinate between them for a moment, feeling like not giving up the answer easily.
“Mm.. I think so,”
His gravelly voice broke the short silence that had spanned. He could hear Sugimoto shift a bit on the bed, but didn’t pay him a glance. He figured Sugimoto probably relaxed himself hearing the positive affirmation.
“What’s so important in here, anyway?”
Ogata then spoke twice in a row, knowing it was wildly unprofessional to ask; but he felt a strange feeling in the presence of Sugimoto. He could only describe it as a strange tension that he wanted to pursue. Sugimoto pursed his lips in thought, even if Ogata couldn’t see it. He scratched the back of his head before he could think of what to say, finally sighing and relenting.
“Just some childhood photos, I guess.”
Ogata certainly wasn’t satisfied with that plain answer, but he knew he couldn’t press more.
“I see.”
Ogata finally settled on saying, his mind wandering a bit as his consciousness replayed Sugimoto’s words. ‘Just some childhood photos.’ Ogata secretly envied the prospect of wanting to even remember one’s own childhood, he sure as hell knew he didn’t want to. Ogata then snapped his mind back to his work when it wandered too far from his reach, his dark eyes scanning over the innards of the monitor now that it was open. There it was. The small circuit that was responsible for screen display was destroyed, Ogata had many spare parts in his box; knowing for a fact that he could replace this and get on with his life.
Well, not quite.
Ogata began to remove the broken part and put in a new one, the silence in the room was now palpable. Ogata’s mouth moved before he thought about it too much.
“Make sure that kid doesn’t do this again, you’re lucky that the inside damage was pretty minor.”
Ogata stated plainly. Careless people irritated him endlessly. Unfortunately, he ran into that a lot in this job.
Sugimoto scoffed, and the bed made another noise in protest under his weight as he stood up and walked to Ogata, standing behind him as he sat at the desk.
“You know, you give a lot of advice for someone who wasn’t ever even asked.”
Sugimoto’s words seethed and sizzled, but Ogata could hear a smirk in his words. Ogata returned it to no one but himself, his back was to Sugimoto and his lips curled up.
“What? You want your monitor damaged again so you can call me back?”
Ogata teased Sugimoto frustratingly well, because there was no hint of amusement in his tone. He stated it as if it was a fact. Sugimoto scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest, not quite having a rebuttal yet… silence surrounded them again before he could come up with something.
“Definitely not.”
It was so weak that Ogata laughed. He didn’t bother to even say anything to that, it wasn't worth it. Ogata then placed his hand on the computer mouse, and after a click the computer sprung to life. The wallpaper lit up Ogata’s face, and he scanned it over. Looking past the damage on the screen that the puck caused, obviously one of the people present in the image was Sugimoto; on an ice rink with a young girl. She had remarkable blue eyes, and held some sort of trophy while adorning a hockey uniform. This photo internally amused Ogata, it seemed like from the photo they were very close. He almost considered for a moment they were father and daughter, or at the least, uncle and niece. He didn’t bother to ask about it. Sugimoto picked up on Ogata’s interest in the photo, a smile danced on his lips as he leaned himself down over the other man’s shoulder, his arm reaching over it to one-handedly type in his password and grant access into the monitor. Ogata didn’t quite know how to feel about this, he wished that Sugimoto would have simply told him to move, or mind his own business, but here he was; sandwiched between this large man and his computer. Great.
Sugimoto double clicked on a folder almost immediately as he was granted access into the computer; seemingly to check on the important things he was anxious about losing. It was a photo album, and Ogata curiously watched on. As the photos popped up, he saw a bunch of images seemingly containing the same three young kids. Holidays and life’s simple moments were documented, up until they were young teens. It took Ogata seeing a few photos scroll by to realize one of the people constantly pictured was Sugimoto himself; the other two being another boy and a girl. Ogata couldn’t hide the amusement in his tone when he spoke.
“Is that you?”
The words left his lips before he could think very much about what he was saying, the boy in the photo looked almost nothing like the man he was in front of right now. The only thing that even made them look similar was their eyebrows and eye shape; Sugimoto had grown into having unruly hair that contrasted the clean cut of his younger self, and his pristine kimono was replaced with clothes he probably picked up off the floor and sniffed to make sure were clean. This revelation was hilarious to Ogata.
“Is there a problem with that?”
Sugimoto defensively snapped, clicking off the folder once he had the visual confirmation his photos were safe. It seemed as though his desperation to keep these precious memories made him oblivious to the fact he showed his childhood photos to a snide stranger. Ogata let Sugimoto’s question linger in the air, only answering the question with one of his own.
“Where are those two now? I don’t think either of them was that bald guy from earlier.”
Ogata bluntly spoke. It was rather unclear if that was meant to be a joke or a statement, but Sugimoto chose to let a laugh escape him.
“Nah, that’s my roommate, Shiraishi. Definitely not either of them.”
Sugimoto half answered the question, and his avoidance of acknowledging the two people from his childhood made Ogata’s mind run some questions through it.
“Mm…”
Ogata acknowledged Sugimoto’s answer, simply.
“You’re a nosy weirdo.”
Sugimoto stated, finally leaning up from his position over Ogata. Ogata scoffed and rolled the chair to face Sugimoto, looking up at him. The statement was so random, ironic even; considering he just revealed the name of his roommate. It almost seemed as though Sugimoto said it just to stir the pot.
“If you were me, wouldn’t you look at yourself and have some questions to ask, too?”
Ogata’s tone was rude and judgmental, but the look on his face showed some semblance of playfulness.
“I don’t even fucking know how you have a job if you act like this to your paying customers.”
Sugimoto snapped back, venom was coating his tongue. Luckily, Ogata didn’t mind getting poisoned.
“I have customers because I do my job well. Have you not felt like you’ve gotten your money’s worth from this experience?”
If Sugimoto thought he was quick; he was just a speeding car, Ogata was a leopard. He always had something to say, or nothing at all. Both were equally as maddening. Sugimoto let out a frustrated grunt, wanting to wipe the smirk off of Ogata’s lips. He couldn’t stand being patronized. He couldn’t stand being left with nothing to say. The tension in the air could have been cut with a knife, and he needed to do something about it. Ogata caused an annoyance within Sugimoto that was visceral, just by the other man existing with his stupid, smug face.
But, Sugimoto didn’t always hate tension.
“No, I haven’t. Do you offer any other services to your unsatisfied customers?”
Sugimoto challenged Ogata; nerves creeping into the farthest corner of his insides, but he was never making that visible to Ogata. The amusement on the other man’s face was blatant, and he crossed one of his legs over the other while he smugly sat in the computer chair.
“What are you getting at, Sugimoto?”
He asked, the other man’s name rolling off his tongue for the first time. Ogata knew loud and clear what Sugimoto was suggesting, but he wanted to hear it.
Sugimoto sharply inhaled through his nose, deciding to not give the Ogata the satisfaction of his submission; and approached him while he was still seated. Ogata had just now come to the realization that with Sugimoto’s height, and the height of him in the chair, his face was centered right with Sugimoto’s crotch. Ogata felt his pulse quicken, trying his damndest to keep a cool outside demeanor. But; the peace in his face wouldn’t last for long. A large, calloused hand gripped the back of his head and shoved his face forward. Ogata’s pupils dilated as he instinctively grabbed up, clawing the other man’s hips. Sugimoto’s fingers felt Ogata’s fuzzy undercut against them, moving up to hold onto the longer part of his slicked back hair. Ogata’s nose made contact with something half hardened… he couldn’t believe the other man was turned on from just the slight tension that had built up. Does this guy ever get laid? Is what Ogata was thinking before his thought was ripped out of his head from a voice above him.
“What’s your name, anyway?”
Sugimoto breathed out, freeing his grip a little on Ogata to seemingly invite him to pull back and speak. Ogata immediately scoffed, recovering from what just happened as quickly as ever. He acted as if he didn’t care whatsoever about what was going on.
“Hyakunosuke Ogata. how considerate to ask me my name when you’ve just shoved your junk in my face.”
Ogata taunted, his lips curled into a small smirk.
Ogata’s quip was quickly met with his head being shoved back into Sugimoto’s groin, and Sugimoto let out a low groan from deep within his throat. Sugimoto had certainly realized a quick way to shut Ogata up, but it would never last for long. Ogata spoke, his eyes bored up at Sugimoto.
“I can’t do much if you just wanna rub it on my face.”
He ridiculed, his voice a little muffled by Sugimoto’s basketball shorts. But, alas, Sugimoto saw some truth in his words, and relented his grip.
“I guess you’re right for once, Ogata.”
He choked out the words, a scowl on his face. Ogata lapped up the annoyance with pride, wearing a smug smirk on his lips. He quickly got to work though, pulling down the shorts and boxers underneath just enough to let Sugimoto’s length free, not allowing either articles of clothing to fall. Sugimoto was a decent size, not too big but most definitely not too small; nice girth as well. Ogata couldn’t complain. Sugimoto was a bit harder now, but Ogata solidified a full erection in the other man by running his tongue over the shaft just to tease, then spitting on it to create some makeshift lubricant to grant giving a handjob an easier task. Sugimoto sucked in a deep breath as this happened, and Ogata finally got his hand to work, pumping on him while making direct eye contact.
“For once?”
Ogata asked lowly, finally answering the words left hanging in the air from before; his voice rolling out from his chest in a near rumble. All Sugimoto could do was grunt out, and avoid the other man’s scrutinizing eyes by tipping his head back. After a moment of Ogata pumping Sugimoto, and gauging Sugimoto’s reactions; Ogata decided to lower his lips onto him and take him into his mouth. Ogata figured it would be met with a positive reaction, but he sure as hell didn’t expect Sugimoto’s hand to return back to him; grip the front of his hair, and hold Ogata still while he fucked his throat for a few intense, fast strokes. Ogata’s eyes widened and then squinted, his throat making uncontrollable, merciful noises as Sugimoto banged into it. He looked up at Sugimoto, who had happened to just thrust his entire length into the other man’s throat and leave it there; Ogata’s nose buried into his pubic hair. Sugimoto finally seemed to want to return his gaze, moving his face forward, and he relished in the sight of Ogata choking on him. Saliva and precum mixed and leaked from the corners of Ogata’s mouth. Ogata’s eyes stayed fixated on Sugimoto’s, who was staring at him and trying to suppress his withheld moans and groans. Ogata’s usual glazed over pupils became shiny, and Sugimoto’s eyes blazed with fire. Soon, Ogata started to let out a muffled cough against Sugimoto’s length when he was held there too long. The cough caused bubbles of fluids to form around Sugimoto’s cock, and not to drip down his own nose. Ogata had the mental strength to hold him there for as long as Sugimoto wanted, but being choked was out of his control. Sugimoto decided to display some mercy by letting his grip go. Ogata gasped out heavily for air, his chest heaving as strings of spit connected them together. Sugimoto’s chest was also heaving, and they just sat there for a moment and stared at each other while catching their breath. Sugimoto took in the sight of Ogata, who now had disheveled hair from his roughhousing. Ogata’s nose was red and running, tears formed in the corner of his eyes. Sugimoto would be lying if he said he didn’t find the sight beautiful, in a twisted way.
Ogata, as always, was the one with something to say as he wiped his mouth and nose off on the back of his sleeve.
“Greedy bitch,”
He breathed out as he lifted the black sweater off of him that he had been wearing, tossing it carelessly and successfully adding it to the pile of miscellaneous clothing items on Sugimoto’s bedroom floor. Ogata was shorter than Sugimoto, but he had the muscle to somewhat match his strength. He was a bit pale, but had a nice and firm body that he did his best to take care of. He wasn’t really unappealing by any standard.
Sugimoto didn’t have a smartass reply this time. Not only dazed from the intimacy, but also from the sudden view of the other man’s body. Without anything uttered from Sugimoto, Ogata got tired of looking at his dumbstruck face and kept talking as he rose from the chair.
“What are you? Some kind of animal? Can’t even let me blow you without being aggressive,”
Ogata walked past Sugimoto, inviting himself to his bed and draping his torso over the edge of it; his legs on the floor. The worn headboard squeaked for him, too, but Sugimoto’s muscle mass had made it cry much louder earlier. Sugimoto finally got over his stooper and pulled off his own shirt in a swift motion, leaving his shorts as they were. Sugimoto towered over Ogata on the bed, each of his large hands framing his face and sinking into the mattress as he looked down at him.
“Is it so animalistic to want you to use your mouth for something useful?”
Sugimoto teased.
Ogata responded in the form of reaching up, and flicking Sugimoto’s hat off of his head. It promptly fell onto the floor as Ogata gripped Sugimoto’s shoulder roughly and pulled him down so their faces were inches apart. Sugimoto let out a quiet gasp at the sudden yank.
“Make yours useful too, then.”
Ogata growled out, every syllable leaking with lust.
Sugimoto gave zero defiance to this proposal, allowing it when Ogata rose up and closed the gap between their lips with a hungry kiss. To ease Ogata’s posture, the other man leaned down to meet him halfway. Sugimoto hummed against Ogata’s lips, who was dominating his mouth and leading the dance between their tongues. With the intensity of their makeout session, it didn’t take long before the oxygen between them ran thin. Ogata parted from the kiss first, their lips making an audible sound when they left each other.
Ogata only shared Sugimoto’s hazy glance for a moment, before he broke it to kiss his neck. His lips slicked with both of their saliva left wet shadows on Sugimoto’s warm skin, but Ogata left marks a little more permanent when he sunk his teeth into Sugimoto’s neck. Sugimoto’s head craned to the side when this happened, a guttural moan escaping from him. Seeing as Sugimoto was a canvas of scars, Ogata didn’t doubt if at this point the pain felt good. Sugimoto had obviously been through a shit ton of things in his life, and Ogata’s curious mind couldn’t help but want a story for each and every indent that decorated Sugimoto.
Human interaction was a dangerous game.
Ogata left shameless marks of his own littered across Sugimoto’s neck and collarbone now, sometimes sucking on the skin, sometimes nibbling on it; and sometimes both at the same time. The way Sugimoto unraveled above him, made Ogata wish he could stay locked into this moment forever. Sneaking glances at Sugimoto’s face twisted in an intimate dance between pain and pleasure made his erection throb against his thigh. He needed some attention. Ogata’s lips left Sugimoto’s skin, licking them brought the taste of copper into his mouth. He had certainly done some work on Sugimoto’s neck. Sugimoto recovered from the fact Ogata parted from him, sighing shakily as they locked eyes.
“Lay down.”
Ogata commanded Sugimoto, already slithering out from under him in order to give him space to do so. Sugimoto’s brain was simply gone at this point, only replaced by a foggy cloud floating in his skull, but he somehow got the message and got on his bed. He laid down on it, his head atop his pillow as he turned to face Ogata expectantly. His eyes wandered lower, and he saw only what must have been the world’s most painful, neglected erection. The tent in his dark gray sweatpants was begging to be freed. A smug smile appeared on Sugimoto’s face when he saw this, feeling somehow in power despite the fact his own boner was throbbing since when Ogata had his face shoved against his crotch. Maybe it was there for so long, he didn’t even notice it anymore. Ogata peeled off his pants and boxer briefs, now fully on display. Similarly to Sugimoto, Ogata was decently sized without being monsterous. Although, he did have a bit more girth packed under his belt than Sugimoto had. Sugimoto swore he saw the thing twitch as Ogata approached the bed, sitting himself up on his knees between Sugimoto’s legs.
“Look how hard you got just from making me bleed, you sick fuck.”
Sugimoto commented, again; as if he wasn’t the one who was just about to climax from being made to bleed. All Ogata offered to this was a breathless laugh as he peeled off Sugimoto’s shorts and underwear off for good, discarding them to the side.
“Yeah, yeah. Guess we’re both a bit animalistic, aren’t we?”
Ogata then said, his voice gruff and sensual. Sugimoto shivered at it.
Ogata then bent down in front of Sugimoto’s crotch, his ass in the air while taking each of Sugimoto’s legs and draping them over his shoulders lazily. Sugimoto raised an eyebrow at what exactly Ogata was doing, but then knitted both of them when he felt the warm invasion of the other man’s tongue enter him suddenly. He shuddered and instinctively grabbed onto Ogata’s head, his legs wrapping to lock him into place. Ogata groaned at this, continuing to use his tongue to stretch out and moisten up Sugimoto’s entrance. Ogata had too much pride to pause now to ask for lubricant, so this would simply have to do. Sugimoto grunted, only praying to whatever God was listening that Shiraishi wouldn’t come back to check on them. Sugimoto’s body clenched around Ogata’s tongue on its own, and the hand that wasn’t clenching his hair clenched the sheets. But; it seemed that as soon as it began, it ended. Ogata left Sugimoto’s hole with a long, pleasured sigh, and Sugimoto nearly whimpered at the loss of warmth and attention. Lucky for him, he wouldn’t be without it for long. Ogata rose from his bent position, Sugimoto’s legs falling down to encase him. The man reached out and firmly grasped Sugimoto’s hip with one hand, looking down to hold himself and position himself, then look at Sugimoto who he was now looming over.
“Ready?”
He was met with a nod from Sugimoto, a beautiful sight below him. His neck was red and wet, and a flush dusted his cheeks. This was a sight Ogata knew he would have to cherish. Not another word was spared when Ogata pushed inside, it was a little dry and tight; but it would have been even worse without the foreplay. Sugimoto’s back arched, his eyes screwed shut. Ogata stopped, waiting for Sugimoto’s pulsating tightness to adjust to him. Sugimoto breathed heavily under him, and Ogata grinned at the sight of him squirming.
“Mm..”
He whispered, a knot forming in his stomach. Ogata moved his hips a little, slowly; earning a grunt and moan from Sugimoto, who was nearly breaking skin with the force in which he was gripping onto Ogata’s forearms. With some patience, Ogata could thrust his hips. The more Ogata moved, the more vocal Sugimoto got. It was obviously starting to feel good for the both of them, Sugimoto whimpering and looking up at Ogata as he thrusted in and out of him at a moderately quick pace. If it wasn’t the noises from Sugimoto that gave them away, it would be the bed frame that had made its presence known every time anyone barely moved atop the mattress. Ogata began to vocalize in his own way, audible breaths escaped his lips, which then turned into barely audible moans. Sugimoto could barely hear them, but they made his stomach twist.
“Choke me.”
Sugimoto finally breathed out, with complete seriousness in his tone as he looked up at Ogata. Ogata allowed Sugimoto to see his eyes widen in slight shock, but he didn’t have to be told twice. He rooted himself a bit deeper into Sugimoto before he leaned down and grasped Sugimoto’s neck between his strong hands, squeezing enough to make Sugimoto’s breathing labored, but not enough to cause him to stop breathing altogether. Ogata gritted his teeth as he focused on pounding in and out of Sugimoto quickly, but he was getting sloppy. Sugimoto gasped and moaned, the pressure on his neck was absolutely perfect. The sweat on Ogata’s palms made the bites sting. This was bliss.
“Pathetic whore,”
Ogata breathed out, squinting down at Sugimoto with demean in his eyes. With every pound, he let out a bit of a louder groan, his low voice straining. Sugimoto was about to go over the edge, moving a hand to grasp onto one of Ogata’s arms that was choking him, gasping and shuddering. Ogata’s once slicked back hair was now wet and clinging to his forehead, both his arms already bruising from Sugimoto’s iron grip on them; and he was the one now beginning to unravel. His thrusts were merciless and cruel, but sloppy and careless. His eyebrows furrowed, Sugimoto released a chorus of pleasured sounds, then reaching down to desperately jerk himself off to hurry the climax he was about to arrive at. Ogata ceased choking Sugimoto in that instant when he saw what was happening, using one of his now freed hands to grab Sugimoto’s hand off of himself and yank it away. Sugimoto was at a loss from this action, breathless moans left him, and he looked angrily at the other man.
“What the fuck, I’m about to cum!”
He protested, but Ogata just met his gaze with a cruel grin. He pulled out of Sugimoto, causing him to shudder and grit his teeth. Was this some sort of sick power play? Sugimoto was furious.
“I’m not cumming inside.”
Ogata simply said, but didn’t give the other man any time to react, leaning down to show Sugimoto he wasn’t a total monster; wrapping his fingers around his throbbing length. After only three seconds of Ogata’s touch, Sugimoto spurted his load all over Ogata’s face. Sugimoto moaned loudly when he climaxed, clapping a hand over his mouth and letting out muffled, heavy breaths as he came down. Ogata sighed in pleasure, reaching a hand down to give himself some release; his own cum ended up coating Sugimoto’s inner thigh. He grunted loudly when he came, struggling to catch his breath.
Ogata got out from between Sugimoto’s legs, and collapsed next to him. The room went from being filled with moans and groans, skin on skin contact, and the bed squeaking; to heavy breathing and silence. Moonlight now poured in from the partially cracked blinds in Sugimoto’s bedroom. They had been together for at least two or three hours from their initial meeting to this moment, but neither of them happened to be tracking the minutes. Nobody really had a word to say, or feelings to share. Just complete and utter exhaustion. Ogata rolled over, his back facing Sugimoto as his eyes closed. He simply wiped the fluids from his face off with the back of his arm, barely cleaning it. He didn’t think he could handle another moment awake, and he was right.
-
Predictably, Sugimoto woke up alone. He was sore as he sat up, groaning under his breath as his neck and hips ached like hell. Sugimoto didn’t expect Ogata to stick around, he fully already came to terms with the fact that it was a one off exchange. Now it was time to shamefully send him money for his help with the computer, and a hefty tip to compensate for the sex. Sugimoto hoped now that he would never damage another electronic device in his life, at the prospect he could run into Ogata again. But, that’s when he heard it. He heard Asirpa’s familiar laugh, sounding like it was coming from the kitchen. She was here? Shiraishi’s voice followed it. Sugimoto felt a bit upset for missing out on whatever was going on without him, scrambling to get up. He looked in the mirror that was hanging from his closet, and there was no way in hell he could face his friends with the state he was in. Ogata definitely made his presence known with the intense markings all over Sugimoto’s neck. Teeth marks and hickies were abundant, and Sugimoto clenched his jaw in irritation. Now, he really did want to see Ogata again, so he could punch him in the fucking face. Sugimoto pulled on pajama pants to hide the mess still on his leg that he planned to wash off in the shower after breakfast, pulling on a striped scarf to hide the markings he acquired. He wasn’t quite sure how to explain that one off, but he figured his on the spot lies weren’t that bad. He was never complete without his hat, finding it on the floor and placing it back on his head. Seeing it on the floor reminded him of Ogata’s stupid smug face. Butterflies formed in his stomach, which just made him want to eat a can of bug spray. Sugimoto then opened his bedroom door, and the sight that greeted him shocked him to his core.
There Ogata was, sitting at the table with Asipa and Shiraishi. He had a bowl of cereal in front of him, and he looked freshly showered and clean. Was he hallucinating? Sugimoto realized he wasn’t, when the young girl at the table turned to him, beaming.
“Oh, there you are, sleepy head! Shiraishi and your friend Ogata told me about the computer, I can’t believe that happened!”
She laughed, and Sugimoto just sputtered. Then, the smug smile that Sugimoto hated to love met his gaze.
“Your friends are very nice, Sugimoto. They gave me breakfast and let me use your shower. Hey… by the way, what’s up with that scarf?”
He said, a shit-eating grin plastered over his face. Shiraishi and Asirpa then mirrored a look of confusion between them, as if they didn’t notice it until now, turning to Sugimoto.
“Yeah, what’s up with that?”
Shiraishi pondered. Sugimoto gritted his teeth.
“I’m going to choke you, next, Ogata. For real.”
He spat out, rushing to the bathroom before another word could be spared. Shiraishi threw a bewildered look Ogata’s way.
“Are you guys on okay terms?”
“I think so,”
Ogata hummed against a spoonful of cereal.