Somewhere in the middle of his fourth beer Ryuji started to get really annoyed with his companion’s stilted formality. Wasn’t the point of drinking to loosen up a bit? No one hit up a bar hoping to engage in polite, distant small talk.
Not that he’d really had many expectations going into this – the entire affair had been very spur of the moment. It wasn’t like he’d woken up that morning knowing that the Sixth Chairman of the Tojo Clan would casually stroll by his takoyaki stand that afternoon. And he would’ve been even less likely to predict that the guy would actually notice him, stop, and then buy some takoyaki like that was a perfectly normal interaction to be having with a former bitter enemy. So Ryuji had mostly been acting on some kind of shock-induced autopilot when he invited Dojima out for drinks at the nearby dive bar after work. It’d been something like a decade since they’d last exchanged words, and Ryuji figured he still owed an apology to too many people. Here was one more to cross off the list. But he hadn’t really expected Dojima to accept.
Ryuji’s apology had spilled out somewhere in the middle of his second drink. Dojima had accepted it easily, offering a distant smile and a polite “don’t worry about it.” In fact, just about everything Dojima had said this evening could be boiled down to a distant smile and a polite, meaningless platitude, and Ryuji was beginning to wonder why he was even here.
Maybe more alcohol was the solution? Ryuji finished off his drink and signaled the bartender for another. He eyed Dojima’s drink with a frown. Only his third. Not like he could force the guy to drink. He held back a sigh.
“So why’d ya even agree to come here? Ain’t you busy?” Ryuji asked just to break the silence, staring morosely into his new drink. He was already out of small talk. Might as well just say what was on his mind.
Dojima looked at him, eyebrows slightly raised. “You wanted to talk to me. And… you said you were paying, right?”
Shit, he’d forgotten he’d said that. “Yer just usin’ me for free drinks?”
“Ah, well.” Dojima gave a polite little cough and took a pull of his drink.
Seriously? “Aren’t ya like, filthy rich?” He leveled Dojima with an unimpressed look.
“Rich people appreciate free things too,” Dojima said serenely.
Bastard. Ryuji scowled into his drink. “Don’t you hate me, though? Is this swill really worth havin’ to put up with me?”
“The beer isn’t that bad,” Dojima lied shamelessly. “And I don’t hate you.”
“Wrong on both counts, I’m pretty sure,” Ryuji grumbled.
“Well, maybe on one count. But I won’t complain about what’s free.”
Ryuji drained his drink and signaled for another. One of them might as well get drunk. It seemed like it might finally be getting him somewhere. “You hated me a lot, last I checked. Had a lot more to say about it, too.”
Dojima shifted slightly and looked away. “I… did hate you, yes. That was a long time ago. I understand we’re both different people now.”
“Fair enough,” Ryuji conceded. “That kinda shit don’t always go away so easy, though.”
“I suppose not.” Dojima looked at him again, face as impassive as ever. “Having an official apology is nice,” he admitted.
Dojima used to have expressions, Ryuji was pretty sure. He idly considered asking him where they’d gone. “So what, apology accepted, and everything’s forgotten?”
“That’s generally how these things work, yes,” Dojima said.
“Bullshit,” Ryuji snorted and started in on his new drink.
“Do you want me to still hate you?” Dojima asked, a slight furrow to his brow. “Was the point of this not to make amends?”
Ryuji sighed and slammed his glass back on the bar. “Shit, I’m just trying to get somethin’ out of you,” he admitted. “I feel like I’m in a damn business meeting.”
“Oh.” Dojima flushed slightly and looked away again. “My apologies. I’ve never been particularly good at small talk…”
“No shit,” Ryuji muttered. “I’d almost rather you start throwin’ punches.”
“I’m not sure it’d be a good idea for me to start a bar fight,” Dojima said. “Although…” He fidgeted in his seat and drained the last of his drink. “I admit the idea is somewhat appealing.”
“Yeah?” Ryuji grinned. Was this it? The start of an actual conversation? “Miss getting in bar fights, do ya, Sixth Chairman?”
“Please don’t call me that.” Dojima got another drink. “And yes, a little. Or even just a street fight. My bodyguards take care of everything these days.”
“You had no problem startin’ fights with me, as I recall.”
“For all the good it did me.”
“Hey, ya had guts. I liked it. Not many men willin’ to stand up to me back then.”
“Probably could’ve used more people telling you no,” Dojima snorted. “And no need to lie for my sake. I know you barely gave me much thought back then.”
“Yeah, that’s true,” Ryuji admitted. “I was way too caught up on Kiryu-han. You were like… some kinda amusing little fly.”
“Sorry. I barely remembered you.” Ryuji shrugged. “Thought it was kinda funny how ready to fight ya were. Especially since there was no way you’d ever win.”
“Ah, I think I’m starting to remember why I hated you so much,” Dojima said.
“I’m tryin’ for honesty here. Figure you deserve that much.” Ryuji drank some more. Everything was starting to look a little brighter. “Ain’t like I think that way anymore.”
Dojima considered him for a long moment. He seemed to come to a decision, the furrow in his brow relaxing somewhat, and he drained his drink in one go. “Well,” he said, tone light and casual. “I used to think about you quite a bit.”
If Ryuji didn’t know any better, he’d think that was a pickup line. “Oh yeah?” he prompted.
“About kicking your ass, mostly. I’d fantasize about the best way to get revenge on you. Mostly I just wanted to beat you in a fair fight.” Dojima got another drink and started in on it immediately.
Ryuji got another drink too. “Well? Don’t leave me hangin’. What’d ya come up with?”
“What do you mean?”
“Your revenge fantasy. How’d it go?” He grinned expectantly, leaning his head on his hand.
“Ah, well.” Dojima flushed slightly and chugged the rest of his drink. He was a third of the way through his next one when he finally spoke again. “I briefly thought about setting you up, the way I thought you had me set up… but that’s not really my style. So I mostly thought about beating you up. Knocking you down a peg or two.”
“Yeah?” Ryuji prompted when it became apparent Dojima wasn’t going to continue. “How exactly were ya gonna beat me? Afraid I’m havin’ a hard time picturing it.”
Dojima scowled at him. “With my superior fighting ability, asshole. You’re bigger and stronger than me, so I would have to be smarter. Have better technique.”
“Obviously.” Ryuji nodded, grin still fixed firmly in place. “So say I come at you swingin’. What’re you gonna do?”
“Dodge? I’d have to do a lot of that kind of thing. Dodging, blocking, parrying.” Dojima frowned. “I’d have to tire you out. Outlast you. Hit you where it hurts. I definitely used to think about punching you in the face a lot.”
“Think you can outlast me, huh?”
Dojima flushed again. “Yes,” he said. “If I wanted to. And then I’d get that punch to your face I always wanted. Wipe that stupid smug grin right off. Rub it in how you lost. I used to obsess over what I would say to you, when I won.”
“What would you say?”
“I never did manage to come up with the perfect one-liner,” Dojima sighed. “It’s not like I ever did win, anyway. None of this really matters anymore.”
“Hey, it’s not too late,” Ryuji pointed out, straightening up.
“How do you mean?”
“I’m here, you’re here,” Ryuji said. “And this bar’s got an empty lot out back. Wanna see how your fantasy stacks up to reality? Maybe you can finally get yer one-liner in.”
Dojima stared at him incredulously. “You want to fight me? In an alley?”
Ryuji leered. “What, ya scared?”
Dojima scowled. “No. It just seems a bit childish, doesn’t it?”
“Sounds like you’re scared to me. Is the chairman too good to be fightin’ in back allies now? Or is it because you know you’ll lose?”
Dojima’s scowl deepened. “I wouldn’t-” He cut himself off. “Why are you trying to goad me into fighting? What happened to all your apologies?”
He was finally starting to look like the Dojima that Ryuji remembered, Ryuji noted with satisfaction. “Hey, I’m just tryna give you the chance to live out yer fantasies here. And, uh, you look like you could really use the chance to blow off some steam.” With how pent-up Dojima seemed, fighting him could probably be considered Ryuji’s good deed for the day.
Dojima stared at him, expression wavering somewhere between incredulous disbelief and an angry determination before finally settling on the latter. “Alright,” he said, and Ryuji could hear the unspoken fuck it. “One fight. For old time’s sake.”
“That’s what I’m talkin’ about!” Ryuji drained the last of his drink and sprang to his feet, already reaching for his wallet to settle the tab.
Dojima only sighed and followed him out of the bar at a slower clip, trailing Ryuji as they headed for the empty lot behind the bar. It was a bit smaller than what Ryuji would have liked, enclosed by stone and steel buildings with cracked asphalt underfoot. He watched as Dojima inspected it, obviously unimpressed.
“Here? I suppose it’s empty, at least,” Dojima said, rolling a shoulder and dropping into a fighting stance. “Let’s get this over with, then.”
“Don’t sound so excited, now,” Ryuji snorted, dropping into his own stance. It had been a while since he’d had a proper fight. He eyed Dojima dubiously. Hopefully his cushy office job hadn’t softened him up too much.
Dojima circled him cautiously, eyeing him up. After a few seconds of this made it clear that he wasn’t going to make the first move, Ryuji took it upon himself to charge forward, fist swinging. Dojima, to his credit, sidestepped the punch smoothly and immediately tried for a counter-jab, which Ryuji easily caught with his metal arm. Dojima winced slightly on impact, and Ryuji shifted his stance slightly to favor his flesh arm instead. A metal arm in a fistfight could probably be considered an unfair advantage.
Ryuji’s next punch was also sidestepped, although Dojima didn’t quite manage to get out of range of the immediate follow-up punch, taking a glancing blow off his shoulder that unbalanced him and sent his counter-punch to Ryuji’s side rather than his stomach. But there was more force in the blow than Ryuji had expected, and he grinned as he backed out of range. Maybe this could be more fun than he’d expected.
They circled around each other and traded glancing blows and counter blows for what felt like ages before Ryuji finally miscalculated, swinging just a second too slow and leaving himself wide open. He had just enough time to catch the flash in Dojima’s eyes before Dojima’s fist was heading straight for his face. With no time to dodge, Ryuji brought up his metal hand to shield himself, angling the rest of his body so Dojima’s subsequent hit to his stomach did less damage.
“Looks like yer not getting’ that punch to the face just yet, Dojima,” Ryuji gasped, forcing his body backward and out of hitting range.
It was like Ryuji’s words flipped a switch in Dojima, his eyes blazing anger and irritation. His next punch came for Ryuji with far more speed and far less finesse, and Ryuji laughed as he found himself suddenly taking the defensive.
Unfortunately for Dojima, his aggression was doing more to tire himself out than Ryuji. It didn’t take too long for Ryuji to find an opening, hitting Dojima with a hard jab to the stomach. Ryuji deliberated for a split second while Dojima recovered, figured neither of them would probably be able to drag this out much longer anyway, and then went ahead and delivered a follow-up hit to Dojima’s solar plexus with his metal arm. There wasn’t much Dojima could do after that to stop Ryuji from grabbing him and tossing him to the ground. Ryuji straddled him for good measure, ready to start punching if necessary, but Dojima ignored him in favor of gasping for air.
“Shoulda stuck to your original strategy, dumbass,” Ryuji panted. “Woulda had a better chance.” He let the tension drain from his shoulders and focused on steadying his breathing and cataloging his fresh bruises.
“Fuck you,” Dojima wheezed. “You’re still infuriating.”
“Ha.” The seconds dragged as the adrenaline from the fight wore off. “Looks like ya don’t get to live yer dreams today, huh?” Ryuji said when he had his breathing back under control, looking down at Dojima.
Dojima was still panting slightly, his face flushed with exertion and covered in a thin sheen of sweat. A strand of his hair had come free from the rest and was sticking up. There was a curious gleam in his eyes as he met Ryuji’s gaze. “You know,” he said slowly, in that same light, casual tone he’d used earlier in the bar, “I thought about this sometimes too.”
“What, losing?” Ryuji asked, bemused. “Seems counterproductive.”
“Indeed,” Dojima agreed, smiling slightly. “I had a lot of different fantasies when I was younger. I didn’t always win.”
Ryuji jumped as something brushed his leg. He looked down to see Dojima place his hands on Ryuji’s thighs, idly rubbing his thumbs along the inner seam of his pants. “Uh-?” Ryuji looked back at Dojima, who was still eyeing him with that curious look.
“Sometimes I would lose the fight,” Dojima continued, as if he weren’t currently rubbing his hands all over Ryuji. He wriggled slightly to readjust himself and Ryuji abruptly became incredibly aware of the fact that he was still straddling Dojima.
“…Yeah?” Ryuji breathed. This couldn’t possibly be happening.
“And you would end up on top of me just like this,” Dojima said.
Holy shit, it was happening, wasn’t it? The same guy who would barely talk to him at the start of the night was coming on to him. “Uh, not to interrupt this or anything, but seriously, didn’t ya used to hate me?”
“So what, I couldn’t also want to fuck you?” Dojima raised an eyebrow. “You’ve always been my type. It’s part of why you’re so infuriating.”
“What, ya had some kinda big angry crush?” That was kind of funny to think about now. No wonder Dojima had been so insistent on getting his attention.
“Something like that,” Dojima said, thumbs idly rubbing in little circles that were starting to wander higher and become very distracting. “So are you interested or not?”
Yeah, fuck it, Ryuji decided. Not the end to his night he had been expecting, but this was far more interesting. And now that he was thinking about it, Dojima did look rather nice laid out underneath him. “Awright, let’s hear it then. What would happen next in this fantasy of yours?”
“You would pin me down. My hands above my head.” Dojima’s flush darkened slightly. “In my imagination you could do that with just one hand.”
He could probably do it with the metal hand. Ryuji gently pried Dojima’s hands off his thighs. “You into bein’ restrained or something?” He shifted until he could comfortably lean forward, dragging Dojima’s arms over his head.
“N-Not being tied up.” Dojima tilted his head back to watch as Ryuji crossed his wrists and closed the metal hand around them. “Just being held down.”
“So it’s like a strength difference thing?” Ryuji leaned his weight forward as Dojima flexed his arms, testing Ryuji’s grip. There was no give. Ryuji watched Dojima’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “Looks like I can manage it.”
“So it seems,” Dojima agreed, voice noticeably more strained.
Ryuji grinned and dropped his face closer to Dojima’s, noting the hitch in his breath with smug satisfaction. “What happens next?”
“We would make out. Obviously.” Dojima’s eyes flicked down to his mouth.
“Oh, obviously,” Ryuji agreed. He pressed his lips against Dojima’s, who immediately surged up against him with a faint groan. Dojima certainly kissed like a man who had been far too pent-up for too long, all wet heat and desperation moving roughly against him. Ryuji shifted to kiss the corner of his mouth, angling to go down his jaw, and startled when he felt a tongue tracing the shape of his scar.
“Always wondered how that scar would feel,” Dojima sighed as Ryuji pulled back.
“That everything ya imagined?” Ryuji hadn’t imagined Dojima would be so aggressive, but he wasn’t going to complain. It had been a while since anyone had been able to keep up with him.
“Oh, not at all.” Dojima laughed. “You’re supposed to be much more aggressive. We hated each other, remember?”
“Hey, I never said I hated you,” Ryuji complained.
“No, I guess you didn’t think about me enough for that.” Dojima smiled, and Ryuji tried to commit the rare sight to memory. “But maybe the real version is better. I’d need more information to decide. Kiss me again.”
Ryuji obliged, and this time Dojima settled down after a few seconds, allowing Ryuji to dictate the pace. Ryuji brought his free hand up to cup Dojima’s jaw, angling him to deepen the kiss, and was rewarded with a quiet moan for his efforts.
Ryuji pulled back as Dojima shifted underneath him again, a thin string of saliva breaking between them. “Well?”
Dojima looked up at him through half-lidded eyes, his lips slightly swollen and his face flushed a rather appealing red. “Next you’re supposed to touch me,” he breathed. “Touch my chest.”
Ryuji hurried to move his free hand down to the waistband of Dojima’s pants, tugging his dress shirt up until there was room to snake his hand underneath it. He lightly ran his fingers up Dojima’s stomach and ribcage, noting his every sigh and shiver, and stopped at his chest. He rubbed his thumb against a nipple in slow circles, eliciting a gasp. “You sensitive here?”
“Yes,” Dojima said, arching into Ryuji’s hand. “M-More- Use a little more pressure.”
Ryuji rubbed a little harder. Dojima moaned and arched up again, straining against Ryuji’s hold. “Shit,” he muttered. He could feel his dick starting to strain as well.
“I-In my fantasy you would use your mouth too,” Dojima gasped. “But that’s a bit harder when I’m wearing a suit. I’d rather you didn’t undress me here.”
Shit, they were still technically in public. Ryuji leaned back, but a quick scan confirmed the lot was still empty except for them.
Dojima laughed as he watched Ryuji look around. “Did you forget where we are? We probably shouldn’t enact the next part of my fantasy here either.”
Ryuji reluctantly drew his hand out from underneath Dojima’s shirt and released his wrists, sitting back on his haunches. Dojima promptly brought his hands back to Ryuji’s thighs, idly tapping his fingers. “I suppose in your fantasy we just stayed in the alley to fuck?” Ryuji asked.
Dojima nodded. “Yeah. The next part involved you getting out lube.”
“Damn, already? I move pretty fast,” Ryuji remarked. “Wait. Am I just carryin’ lube around?”
“Uh, well… yeah.”
“Who the hell does that? Isn’t this supposed to be spontaneous?”
“Yes, but it’s a fantasy, okay? You can’t get too hung up on the logistics.”
“Fine,” Ryuji conceded. “But I don’t actually just carry lube around, for the record.”
“I didn’t think you did!” Dojima glared at him. “Anyway, you have lube, you get it out. You get your dick out too.” He paused and gave Ryuji’s crotch a considering look. “I always imagined you with a really big dick.”
Ryuji snorted. “Thanks.”
“Do you have a big dick?”
“Hey, you can’t just ask a guy that,” Ryuji complained. “Not like I can give ya a number or anythin’ anyway.”
“Why not? And I don’t need measurements, just like, in general,” Dojima pressed.
“Keep talkin’, and if I like what I hear maybe you can find out later. And stop starin’ at my crotch.”
“Oh, fine.” Dojima looked back up at him with a huff, tapping his fingers a little harder. “There isn’t much left to this, though. You would use the lube on yourself, obviously, and then flip me over. Pull my pants down, pin my hands behind my back. You’d fuck me like that.”
“Huh. No prep? Wait, what about a condom?”
“I don’t need prep in my imagination. And, uh, you didn’t have a condom.”
“Didn’t have-? I’m carryin’ lube but not a condom?” Ryuji asked incredulously. “The hell kinda logic you runnin’ on here? What if I have an STD or something?”
Dojima flushed a bright red. “An STD? Are you serious, Goda? Why the hell would I imagine you with an STD? You think syphilis turns me on or something?”
“Awright, awright, I get yer point,” Ryuji grumbled. “Still. I actually do carry condoms.”
“Well, would you like to use one?” Dojima glanced around the lot. “I’d always imagine you just fucking me in some alley and leaving afterward, but I really shouldn’t do that kind of thing now. I suppose we should go fuck in a love hotel like proper, responsible adults?”
“Ha.” Ryuji considered Dojima, still laid out beneath him, with his mussed hair and flushed face and untucked shirt. It was a good look for him. Far too good to be abandoned to a back alley or some stained, anonymous bed. “Actually, my apartment’s closer than the nearest love hotel,” he offered.
Dojima’s eyes widened. “Your apartment? That’s… You’re sure that’s okay? I don’t want to intrude.”
Ryuji waved the concern off. “’Sfine. Why I offered.”
“Er, I need to clean up first. It’s alright if I use your shower?”
“Sure, I don’t give a shit.” Ryuji shifted off Dojima and pushed himself to his feet, offering his companion a hand. Dojima took it.
Thankfully Ryuji’s apartment was close by, and within a short enough walking distance that he didn’t have time to start feeling awkward about this whole affair. It was a small studio apartment, but he kept it clean and the bed would be big enough for their purposes. It also had lube, because most people kept that kind of thing in their house and not in their pockets.
Ryuji flipped the lights on when they arrived and waved at the bathroom in the hallway. “All yours.”
Dojima nodded, looking like he was waiting for Ryuji to say more or maybe call the whole thing off, but after a few seconds of silence he went into the bathroom.
Ryuji went into the main room and shrugged his coat off onto a chair. Should he go ahead and change? The end goal was to get naked, so it shouldn’t matter too much if he switched to something more comfortable, right? He felt a vague stab of annoyance at his own uncertainty and tugged off his suit jacket with a bit more force than necessary. He could wear whatever he wanted. They were fucking, not getting ready for a date.
That was an interesting thought, though. Dojima was interesting. Ryuji had always found the other man vaguely amusing, the kind of person he could maybe have some fun with if he ever had the time. The uptight chairman shtick was annoying, but that only made getting him to finally loosen up a bit all the more satisfying. And if their almost-tryst behind the bar was any indication, he didn’t get to loosen up very often. There was something appealing about being the object of Dojima’s fantasies too, even if some of his ideas about Ryuji were slightly misguided.
Ryuji changed into his white tank top and decided to forgo pants and just wear his underwear. Pants were always the most annoying thing to take off. With that important decision taken care of, he sat down on the bed to wait for Dojima to finish cleaning up.
Dojima didn’t keep him waiting very long. After a few minutes the sound of running water stopped, and a short while later Dojima appeared in the hallway, holding his suit jacket, tie, and belt. He stepped into the main room, eyes scanning the apartment, then unceremoniously dumped his clothes on the floor.
Ryuji huffed in amusement, drawing Dojima’s attention. He had left his dress shirt untucked and unbuttoned, and Ryuji eyed the bare strip of skin that was visible appreciatively. “C’mere.” Ryuji patted the area of bed next to him.
Dojima sat, brushing his hair out of his eyes. It was quite a bit longer in the front than Ryuji would’ve expected, but he liked it. It felt like something that not many people got to see. “Yer hair looks nice like that,” he told him, delighting in the pink flush his words caused.
“Oh. Um, thank you?” Dojima looked away in favor of examining the bed, then started maneuvering himself backwards towards the head of the bed.
“You still good?” Ryuji waited for Dojima to settle himself.
“Yes, I’m fine. Can we skip the awkward small talk and get to it?”
“Yer pretty bossy,” Ryuji commented. He moved to straddle Dojima again as he leaned back against the pillows. “Ya ever think about this?”
“Coming home with you?” Dojima asked. “No, not at all.”
“Hmm.” Ryuji placed his hands on either side of Dojima’s head and brought his face close to his. “Guess it woulda been pretty hard to get ya down to Osaka.”
Rather than answer, Dojima hooked an arm behind his neck and tugged him closer, pressing their lips together. Ryuji dropped to an elbow, moving his left hand to cup Dojima’s face and idly brushing his thumb across his cheekbone. Ryuji kissed down his jaw to his neck, stopping to tongue his pulse point. The metal hand ran lightly up his stomach, and Dojima shivered.
“Goda,” Dojima said. “Take your shirt off.”
“Sure.” Ryuji sat up and pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it carelessly to the floor. He suppressed a smug grin at Dojima’s sharp intake of breath. And then had to suppress a yelp of surprise as Dojima abruptly reached out and squeezed one of his pecs.
“Damn,” Dojima muttered, reaching out with his other hand too and squeezing again. He ran his hands over Ryuji’s shoulders and down his arms, stopping at his biceps and giving the left one a squeeze. “Seriously, what the hell.”
“Like what ya see, huh?” Ryuji cocked an eyebrow, but Dojima didn’t seem to be paying attention. One hand moved to his back, mapping out the muscle there, while the other fiddled with a bit on his metal arm. Ryuji moved that hand back to his chest before Dojima could accidentally trigger anything, and Dojima readily took the invitation to grope him again. Ryuji elected to take the attention as a compliment and leaned down to refocus on Dojima’s neck.
He made his way down to Dojima’s collarbone and stopped to suck a light mark there, earning a quiet groan. He moved down further to his chest and licked a broad stripe up a nipple, earning a significantly louder groan. Ryuji brought the nipple into his mouth and sucked at it, rubbing at the other one with his thumb. Dojima moaned and shifted underneath him, opening his legs a little wider.
After a few seconds of this attention, Dojima threaded his fingers in Ryuji’s hair and tugged at it lightly until Ryuji took the hint and sat up. Dojima looked up at him through half-lidded eyes, dark hair framing a pretty pink flush that spread across his cheeks and down to his neck. Actually, his whole face was rather pretty, Ryuji mused. “Yeah?” he prompted.
Dojima tugged at his underwear. “Take it off,” he ordered.
“Yer pretty impatient, huh?” Ryuji raised his eyebrows but moved to do as he was told, throwing his underwear down to join his shirt.
Dojima’s face lit up as he raked his eyes down Ryuji’s exposed body. “Ha! I knew it!” he crowed. “You do have a big dick!”
Ryuji felt a slight flush creep across his face. “Awright, no need to throw a party over there,” he grumbled. “Since ya seem so damn happy about it, can I assume this ain’t gonna be an issue?”
“An issue?” Dojima wrapped a hand around the base of Ryuji’s cock and stroked experimentally, smiling slightly at Ryuji’s groan. “Oh, no. I can take it.”
Already half-hard, Ryuji felt his cock stiffen further at Dojima’s words and continued attention. “Ya sound pretty sure of yourself there,” he breathed. “Think it’s your turn to ditch the pants.”
Dojima wriggled out of his pants and underwear at once, spreading his now bare legs wide for Ryuji to settle in between them. He was already fully erect, cock curved towards his stomach and leaking precome. Ryuji stroked one of Dojima’s thighs absently and considered him. Then, just to see how Dojima would react, he took the head of his cock into his mouth.
His reaction was to gasp and buck up into Ryuji’s mouth, his flush darkening to a blotchy red. Ryuji pulled back to pin his hips down, then took the head into his mouth once more, swirling his tongue around it. He watched Dojima as he sank down further on his dick, stopping just before he hit his gag reflex. Dojima watched him back, eyes wide, thighs trembling around his head. Ryuji hummed, and Dojima dropped his head back with a high-pitched whine. It was as good an invitation as any, so Ryuji began to suck him off in earnest, hollowing his cheeks and bobbing his head, using his free hand to stroke what parts he couldn’t reach.
Dojima was much more freely vocal with his cock down someone’s throat, quiet gasps and moans spilling from his mouth in a steady stream. Ryuji shifted to press his own hips into the mattress, seeking some relief.
“G-Goda, I’m-” Dojima gasped, tugging on his hair again. “Goda, stop.”
Ryuji stopped. Dojima lifted his head to meet his gaze, brushing an errant strand of hair out of his eyes. Something about the gesture had Ryuji pressing his hips down harder. “Ya ever think about me doin’ that?” Ryuji asked, but he suspected he already knew the answer.
“N-No,” Dojima breathed. “I didn’t.”
Yeah, that’s about what he figured. “What about the other way ‘round?”
“A few times,” Dojima admitted. “Do you want me to return the favor?”
“Nah.” Ryuji sat back up. “Not this time, anyway. Pretty sure you wanted me to fuck you.” He leaned down to rummage under the bed, retrieving a bottle of lube and a condom. “Ya do still want that, yeah?”
“Yes.” Dojima nodded emphatically.
“Well, I’d hate to disappoint.” Ryuji popped open the lube and poured a generous amount on the fingers of his left hand. “I’ll even prep ya and wear a condom.”
Dojima snorted and looked away. “Well, if you insist.”
“I do.” He settled himself between Dojima’s legs and circled a finger around his hole. He still wasn’t quite used to doing this left-handed, but he’d learned the hard way that the metal fingers could pinch, and were just generally very cold. He waited until he felt Dojima relax before carefully slipping a finger inside of him, keeping his movements small and slow. At Dojima’s nod, he added a second finger, gently thrusting them in and out until Dojima opened up enough for a third. He curled his fingers slightly as he worked them, noting which angles caused Dojima’s pleased little groans.
“I’m good, I’m good,” Dojima whined. “Get on with it.”
“Wouldn’t kill ya to learn how to wait,” Ryuji remarked, crooking his fingers one last time before pulling them out. “But fine.” He tore open the condom and rolled it on, then applied lube, hissing with relief as his neglected cock finally got some stimulation. “This position good?”
“It’s fine, fuck me already,” Dojima huffed, wrapping his legs around Ryuji.
Ryuji lined himself up, rubbing the head of his cock against Dojima’s hole. When he felt the muscles relax, he slowly pushed forward until the head of his cock slipped inside. He breathed out slowly, watching Dojima’s face tense, resisting the impulse to thrust forward into that tight heat. Once he felt the ring of muscle relax once more, he pushed forward again, carefully, until he nearly bottomed out, reaching the limit of what Dojima could comfortably take in this position.
“Good?” Ryuji breathed, forcing himself to hold still.
“G-Give me a minute,” Dojima groaned. “Fuck, you’re big.”
“Coulda prepped a bit longer,” Ryuji couldn’t resist pointing out.
“I said it’s fine, just-” Dojima took a deep breath and closed his eyes, draining the tension from his body. After a few more deep breaths, he opened his eyes again and nodded. “Okay. Move.”
He started slow, rocking his hips in short, shallow thrusts, but it wasn’t long before he was picking up the pace as heat built in his groin. He tried to remember what angles had given the best reaction as he positioned himself. Ryuji grinned as a particularly hard thrust made Dojima gasp and arch his back, his hands flying up to clutch at Ryuji’s back. Shifting his hips to hit that angle consistently, Ryuji watched in satisfaction as Dojima dipped his head back with a loud moan.
Soon Dojima was moaning continuously, digging his nails into Ryuji’s back and moving his hips to meet every thrust. One of Dojima’s hands wandered down towards his own neglected cock, gripping it and stroking frantically in time with Ryuji’s thrusts. Ryuji groaned loudly and fucked into him harder, feeling Dojima twitch around him.
“C-Close,” Dojima choked out.
Ryuji kept up the pace, and after a few more thrusts Dojima gasped and clenched tightly around him, spilling onto his stomach. Ryuji fucked him through it, waiting until Dojima relaxed. Then Ryuji carefully pulled out and took himself in hand. It only took a few strokes for him to come, closing his eyes with a choked-off moan.
When the post-orgasm haze began to clear, Ryuji opened his eyes again. Dojima was watching him, panting slightly, his eyes tracing up and down Ryuji’s body curiously. Ryuji wanted to kiss him. Instead, he tied the condom off and got up to throw it away, grabbing a wet cloth on his way back.
Dojima still hadn’t moved when Ryuji returned, but he shifted to the inside of the bed to give him room to sit. “Sorry,” Dojima breathed. “I need a minute. I can get out of your way soon.”
“Take yer time.” Ryuji passed him the rag and watched as Dojima methodically cleaned himself off. “But, uh.” He hesitated. It wasn’t until Dojima looked at him expectantly that he barreled on with, “You don’t gotta leave if you don’t wanna.”
“Seriously?” Dojima asked, an edge of disbelief in his voice.
“I ain’t gonna kick you out or anythin’,” Ryuji said. “The bed’s kinda small, but if ya don’t wanna go back out… feel free to crash here.” He gestured vaguely. Wow, it had been way too long since he had attempted anything relationship adjacent. He was usually smoother than this.
Dojima stared at him for what felt like an eternity, brows furrowed. “…Huh. You are serious,” he said eventually. “Uh, get me my phone then. I think it’s in my jacket?”
Ryuji rifled through Dojima’s clothes until he found the phone in question and handed it over. Dojima promptly started tapping away at it. Ryuji shifted. “Uh, so…”
“Hm? Oh. I’m just telling my driver he can go home for the night,” Dojima said.
Ryuji processed that. “You stayin’ then?” He processed that a little more. “Do you always make yer driver wait on you while you go hook up?”
“Uhhh. Well, it’s not like I knew I would be sleeping with you. But. Yes.” Dojima passed his phone back to Ryuji.
Ryuji tucked the phone back in Dojima’s suit pocket and settled himself on the bed. There really wasn’t much room for two people; they would be touching no matter how they positioned themselves. “Hope yer payin’ him well.”
“I do pay for discretion,” Dojima admitted, burrowing himself under the comforter.
“Guess you’d have to.” Ryuji stretched himself out as much as he could and began the process of removing his prosthetic. “So, you good with traditional Japanese breakfast?”
“Hm? Why?” Dojima’s voice came slightly softer, sleepier.
“It’s what’s on the menu.” He pulled the prosthetic off and let it clunk to the floor, vaguely aiming for the charging pad by the bed and hoping for the best.
“I get breakfast too?” Dojima shifted to his side, glancing at Ryuji with suspicion. “Are you always this nice to your hook ups?”
“Only the good ones.”
“Oh? You’re too kind. Careful, or I might try to come back,” Dojima murmured.
“Wouldn’t mind if ya did,” Ryuji admitted.
A non-committal hum was the only answer he got to that. Ryuji waited a few more moments before turning to look at Dojima, but he had already fallen asleep. “Well, alright.” He let his own eyes slip shut with a sigh, waiting for sleep to come.
Dojima was still in his bed the next morning. It felt a bit like victory.