The setting sun shines in Teru’s eyes through the bedroom window, sweltering, and sweat drips down his temple. He aches all over—his hole where he’s stuffed with Shimazaki’s cock, his wrists from being on his hands and knees for so long, his cheeks from being spanked.
He’s letting Shimazaki hit it slow and lazy, for once. He doesn’t have any tests tomorrow, he’s finished all his homework, and Shimazaki teleported to his apartment early enough in the evening. His cock digs in Teru deep, carving out a spot inside him that’s just theirs. But it’s been at least a half hour and Shimazaki seems no closer to finishing than when he started. Teru drops his head to avoid the sun and lowers to his elbows, his ass sticking up. Shimazaki's thumbs press into his cheeks as he pulls his cock free, and Teru feels his hole twitch, empty.
It's not that it feels bad. It feels great, so great that Teru's already came once and is ready to come again, but every time his breaths start to rise in pitch and his balls begin to tighten, Shimazaki digs his nails into his flesh. Warns him not to come again until he says so. Teru's ass cheeks are a bright, tender pink from disobeying him once, and he's not eager to find out what punishment Shimazaki will enact on him next.
A click sounds, and Teru smells something mix in with Shimazaki's subtle cologne: smoke. He glances over his shoulder.
“What the hell?”
Shimazaki’s got a cigarette between his lips, the end a bright, gleaming orange as he inhales on the butt, looking relaxed.
“You don’t mind, do you?”
He does mind. Shimazaki knows he minds. There’s no smoking allowed in his apartment, he’ll get in trouble with the landlord if she smells it, not to mention Teru won’t know how to explain it.
“Yes I mind! Put it out!”
“If you say so,” Shimazaki shrugs, and taking the cigarette from his lips, he stabs the lit end on Teru’s right ass cheek.
Teru shouts, and throws a psychic shield around his body at the last second, the cherry on the cigarette going out upon contact with it.
"Are you out of your mind?" He rolls over and goes to shove him off but Shimazaki anticipates this and teleports a few feet away, smiling with his dick still standing proud. Teru feels like it's mocking him.
Shimazaki shrugs, spreading his hands out. "You don't have an ashtray.”
"I'd say I can't believe you but this is exactly the sort of crap I expect from you."
"Hey, if you want me to stop you only have to ask."
But that's the thing, Teru doesn't want it to stop. As irritating as he is, as messed up as the entire thing is, Teru enjoys it. He finds himself daydreaming in class, thinking of the moment Shimazaki will teleport to his place, of big hands clasping over his throat, of warmth seeping into his body. Sweat and spit, too big body over his too small one, the scent of cologne stinging his nostrils, mouth that tastes like ash and bitter dried leaves. Teru barely cares about school or his classmates anymore. Sex with Shimazaki is better than a good fight, and leaves fewer bruises. (Sex with Shimazaki probably leaves way more bruises than sex with other people would, but it comes with the territory, he supposes, when one fucks an ex-terrorist.)
So Teru doesn’t ask. He grinds his teeth, glancing away. “Just get over here and make me come.”
His calves are hooked over Shimazaki’s shoulders, ass filled until balls press against him. Teru is spread open wonderfully, his chest heaves with the ache and strain. Shimazaki is never gentle with him—slow sometimes, deliberate often, but never gentle. Their arrangement is a means to an end. A lot of adult relationships are like this, Teru has learned; people use each other but it’s alright if it’s mutual.
Shimazaki gets them both off fast, and after they finish he stays around for a bit while Teru gets cleaned up, rummaging through the kitchen cabinets and fridge for something to snack on.
“Don’t eat all my Pocky this time,” Teru says when he sees that Shimazaki’s procured a box of strawberry flavored ones. “I just went shopping and need the food to last the whole week.”
Shimazaki plops down on the bed and sticks the flavored end of one between Teru’s lips. “If you run out I can buy you some.”
“I have a job now.”
Teru raises his brows. “Someone actually hired you? Who?”
Shimazaki munches a Pocky stick down. “The proper response is ‘Thank you, Ryou’.”
Teru wrinkles his nose. “I’m not calling you by your first name.”
“I’d rather die.”
Shimazaki smiles. “If you need money…” he trails off, and Teru tilts his head and squints at him.
“That seems… uncharacteristically selfless of you. What do you want from me?”
Shimazaki polishes off the rest of the box, neither commenting on Teru’s observation nor answering his question. “See ya around,” he says.
Then he vanishes. The empty box of Pocky lays on the bed, and Teru glares at it. Stupid, sexy Shimazaki. Comes into his home uninvited, beats him, fucks him, eats his food and leaves the trash on his bed. Sometimes, Teru thinks all he is to him is a hole. Well, two can play that game.
Teru moves the empty box to the trash can with telekinesis, groaning as he stretches out on his bed. He can already tell he’s going to be littered in bruises, and sitting down the entire day for school will be hard tomorrow. Maybe it’s time to tell Shimazaki to take a hike, maybe this thing between them has run its course. With the girls at school, Teru never lets any of the relationships last longer than a couple weeks, and already it’s been over a month since that fateful day Shimazaki caught him masturbating.
The next morning, Teru pulls up Shimazaki’s contact in his mobile.
“I need to talk to you, not over the phone.” He sends the text, knowing Shimazaki’s phone will read it aloud for him.
Then he sends a text to Yuki-chan. “Meet me behind the storage shed by the soccer field after last class?”
Teru drags himself out of bed, trudging over to his full-length mirror. Time to make himself presentable.
Teru's fingers pump into her again. Her walls clench, hard—such a strong pelvic floor his little Yuki-chan has—his palm dampens with her sticky fluids and sweat. She's kept her lips bitten and mouth screwed shut the whole time, but that's part of the fun for Teru. Figuring out how to do it right without having to be told.
When he slips his fingers out, she sags into him, quickly straightening out the crotch of her cotton panties, and pulls her uniform skirt back down. Yuki-chan leaves barely more than a ghost of a kiss on his cheek, whispering, “thanks”, before shuffling away. A breeze cools the sweat on Teru's brow. His bangs are getting long; he wonders if he should cut his hair.
He meets up with his subordinates minutes later, no doubt smelling like pussy and maturity. Pride swells within Teru—he can tell his cronies know what he just finished doing, though they're smart enough not to say anything to his face. They stand near the chain link fence on the other side of the running track, the front gate of the school visible from their location. They used to be more careful about their meeting places, but ever since the whole fiasco with Salt Mid and Teru being brought down to earth (via being ejected from Earth), the delinquent gang has slacked off. The entire gang scene with the neighboring schools has cooled off, really. There’s been bigger fish to fry and no one wants to try taking on White T Poison.
Teru sidles up next to Edano, who’s surrounded by lackeys. He has updates on the gang activities, and even though Teru both fired him as the leader and stepped down as the shadow leader, some things never seem to change. Teru will be the king of this school for as long as he attends it. It's just that his reign has entered a peaceful period. Maybe ‘shadow leader’ isn’t the right term for him anymore—maybe he should call himself their mentor. He’s been encouraging them to join after school clubs, discouraging violence when reasonable. Kageyama-kun would be proud of him.
The update is about Pasta Soup Mid, which Teru has told Edano repeatedly not to engage with. "I don't think it's necessary that we apply pressure just yet…" Teru trails off when he senses an ESPer presence, his eyes darting around the school yard. There's still plenty of people milling about, staying for school clubs and sports practices, or just to avoid going home, so it takes him a second to find the source of the familiar sensation.
He sees him at the gate. Shimazaki is standing just inside the school property, leaning against the wrought iron gate, hands in his pockets, cool. When Teru notices him he sucks in a breath, and as if hearing this, Shimazaki begins approaching him. Teru looks back at his gang, who are still waiting for him to finish delegating their next course of action.
"Hold on a second," he says, and separates from them to meet Shimazaki halfway across the courtyard.
"So?" Shimazaki asks expectantly.
Teru shrugs. "So what?"
"You called me here. Do you want me to fuck you in the storage shed again?"
"Shhh!" Teru’s shoulders hunch to his ears, panic seizing his chest for a second as he glances around, making sure none of his schoolmates heard that.
Shimazaki just smiles like it’s no big deal. "Is little Teru embarrassed to talk about getting fucked? That's not very mature of you."
"You can't say that when you're at a middle school!” he whisper-shouts. “Unless you wanna go to jail, you creep."
"You like when I'm a creep…"
"No I don't—"
“Hanazawa,” another voice calls with gravitas. Teru turns. “Is this man bothering you?"
One of the student council members, a third year, stands near the main door, a clipboard pressed to his chest, eyes surveying Shimazaki critically. Teru doesn't know his name but he recognizes him from the halls. No doubt he knows Teru through his reputation; everyone knows Teru. But this puts Teru at a disadvantage, as he’s not sure if this makes this kid friend or foe, if he’s going to cause trouble for him.
"No, he's not," he says calmly.
The student touches his chin, squinting at Shimazaki. "Don't I know you from somewhere?"
"Can't imagine where," Shimazaki smiles, voice like silk. Teru looks between them, growing more nervous by the second as a look of recognition comes over the student’s expression.
"Weren’t you on TV? I remember, you were..." He snaps his fingers, like it’s right there on the tip of his tongue.
Teru freezes. Oh shit, he remembers the Prime Minister's abduction. Why did Claw have to do that on live national television?
"Oh, that?" Shimazaki frowns.
"You must recognize him from the evening variety show!" Teru interjects. He doesn’t know why he’s bothering to defend Shimazaki, but the kid seems to accept this answer.
"Oh… yeah, I guess. Anyway, Black Vinegar is a private middle school, unless you check in with the front office you can't just loiter on the grounds."
That's not entirely true. It's a private school but Teru's never seen anyone get hassled for stepping on to the property like this. It's probably because Shimazaki looks like a sexual predator. Girls nearby watch him with dissecting eyes.
Sometimes a girl from their school will get picked up by an older man stinking of too much cheap cologne in a nice black car with heavy tinted windows, no way to see inside. So the kid’s concern isn’t unwarranted, but it isn't Shimazaki he has to worry about. It isn't Teru. Shimazaki’s cologne is neither cheap nor strong.
But Shimazaki seems to understand how it looks, and he raises his hands in a gesture of surrender. "My apologies, I'll be leaving now."
Teru can feel the eyes of Edano and the gang on him, questioning, but he doesn't try to explain anything to them before leaving with Shimazaki. Let them make assumptions or whatever. Being the shadow leader is kinda boring now anyway.
Once they’re on the street and in the clear, Teru turns to him. "Maybe you should cut out the creepy smile, or you'll get recognized more.”
"Creepy? I’ve been told it's charming."
Teru scoffs. "Hardly."
"Works on you."
"That's cuz you have a..." a big dick, he doesn't finish. Shimazaki already has an ego the size of a planet, there's no reason Teru has to help it.
"A what?" His smile widens, showing off his bright teeth. Those teeth that sank into his ass cheeks last night and left indents. It comforts Teru to know if Shimazaki suddenly decided to murder him, there'd be forensic evidence on his body for the police to track. (Unless Shimazaki cuts them off. Teru tries not to think too hard about why the shiver that runs down his back feels so good.)
Teru’s face feels warm, and he pushes his hair off his forehead. It’s so stupid how easily Shimazaki can distract him. "Nevermind,” he mumbles.
"You told me we needed to talk and it couldn't be said over the phone."
"I didn't mean you had to teleport to my school. Let's go back to my apartment."
They start making their way to Teru’s place. It’s about a fifteen minute walk from the school—which Teru insists on walking rather than teleporting—and he tries to pass the time with chatter, but Shimazaki is close-lipped. “What did you do today?” and “Did you have a good day?” are met with a shrug and noncommittal grunts. But that’s how it always is. He’s endlessly curious about how Shimazaki spends his time when they’re not together, but no matter how he asks Shimazaki brushes him off as if he has something to hide.
Shimazaki turns all the questioning around on him. “You seem to have had a good day.”
“...What’s that mean?”
“The girl on your fingers,” Shimazaki says evenly. “I can smell her.”
Teru blushes. Oh. He’d only wiped his fingers on his pants leg before meeting up with Edano, not anticipating Shimazaki showing up. Is this what cheating spouses feel like when they are caught in the act? Teru’s belly flip-flops. Maybe Shimazaki will be angry with him and call things off for him. Suddenly Teru’s not sure if he really wants that.
“What of it?” he asks, tone taking on a defensive edge. Shimazaki hasn’t classified their relationship, but it still feels like he violated a rule. He tells himself he wouldn’t be mad if he found out Shimazaki was fucking other people, but he probably would be. The excitement from being caught red-handed and sticky-fingered is deadened, as anxiety, sharp and nauseating, squeezes his stomach. Shimazaki probably is fucking other people.
“Nothing,” Shimazaki says after a while. A while too long for Teru to believe it’s really nothing.
Teru’s tongue is uncharacteristically tied as he looks up at Shimazaki. He had texted him this morning with intentions of dumping him—and he should, Shimazaki would make a terrible boyfriend—but what if Shimazaki wanted more? What if…?
“Let’s save this for your apartment,” Shimazaki cuts off.
Teru changes out of his uniform as soon as they arrive at his place, groaning as he sinks onto his bed, his body drained. All the late nights studying, texting, watching videos, and getting fucked this way and that must be catching up to him.
Shimazaki stands over him. “So what is it?”
Teru blinks. Oh, yeah. The text he sent this morning. He feels a blush creep up his neck, uncertain with how to broach the subject.
“It’s um, about… us.”
Shimazaki huffs, and for a second Teru thinks he’s angered him, but then he starts chuckling.
"Is that it? You want to talk about sex." Shimazaki tilts his head. "Why couldn’t it be said over the phone?"
Teru sits up. "For your protection, in case the government is like, listening in. If you forgot, you're like a decade older than me."
Shimazaki inhales, thoughtful. "Closer to two decades, I imagine."
"Ew," Teru wrinkles his nose. "Well Mr. Two Decades, it's illegal for you to have sex with me."
"Because I always follow the rules." A beat. “Because you always follow the rules.”
"No, but you need to be discreet about breaking them if you want to stay a free man. You're on probation, or did you forget that too? One whiff of misbehavior and the police are throwing you in prison."
Where Shimazaki probably belongs. But Teru isn't going to think too hard on that, either. If the government thinks Shimazaki doesn’t need to be in prison… well, it’s their job, they probably know what they’re doing.
"Wouldn't that be easiest for you?” Shimazaki says. “Or will little Teru miss me too much."
Teru rolls his eyes. "You wish."
"Yes, I do." Shimazaki flicks Teru on the tip of his nose, his expression turning fond but annoyed, like Teru is a small yappy dog who never shuts up. "You are a star, after all. You could have anyone you wanted, isn't that right?"
Teru swats his hand away a second late, suppressing a smile at the compliment. "That's right."
Shimazaki's hands come down to frame Teru's face, his thumbs stroking over his cheeks. They slide down to his neck, grazing the cove of his collarbone. Teru wants him to squeeze.
"And out of all the people you can have, you choose me. What an honor." The last word is said against Teru’s lips as Shimazaki bends down to kiss him. His tongue slips out, tracing the edges of Teru's mouth, and for a moment Teru forgets about the things he wanted to talk about, before he regains his composure. He grabs Shimazaki by his jacket sleeves and pushes him off.
"Stop distracting me…"
"You weren't done? What else is there? Do you need a safe word? A contract?"
Shimazaki's teasing him. Teru hates being made fun of more than almost anything else, and his hands clench in the fabric of his jacket.
"I didn’t text you just to tell you we’re breaking the law. I'm laying some ground rules." He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "You can't just teleport to my school."
"Mmm but that one time, you didn't seem so opposed…"
Teru rolls his eyes. So there was that one time in the storage shed by the soccer field. "That doesn’t matter. It's my turf, I can't be letting whoever walk around. And if we had been caught—"
"I get it. The school prince would have a tarnished name or something, right? I understand these school yard games seem so life and death at this age."
Teru huffs. "Secondly, I want you to stop using your Mind's Eye on me during sex. It's weird."
Shimazaki crouches so he’s level with him. "Little Teru, I don't have eyes. I can't just look at you when we're together. Not really fair that you can watch me but I can't watch you, is it?"
"Yeah but I'm just watching your face, I'm not watching your—your jizz travel through your dick."
Shimazaki’s expression goes flat. "That's not how that works. I'm sorry my eye sockets disturb you…"
“That’s not what I meant…”
Shimazaki sighs. He pets Teru on the head gently, fingers combing through his growing locks. "You don't know how entrancing your aura looks to me…"
Teru pouts. Maybe Shimazaki has a point. Maybe it's not fair.
"Fine. Just stop counting down to my orgasm, at least."
"Alright, I'll stop. Is that all?"
“And…” Teru notices that Shimazaki’s eyebrows twitch. He’s probably pushing the limits of what Shimazaki will tolerate. When he gets too chatty Shimazaki usually teleports away or makes him shut up. “... don’t always be so rough. People were asking about my limp.”
Shimazaki’s smile widens again. He shoves Teru back onto the bed without a word.
Shimazaki slips off his jacket, and Teru’s eyes snap to his biceps where the shirt clings to the muscles, the fabric pulled taut. Dammit. Stupid, sexy Shimazaki!
He crawls on the bed, leaning over Teru. “It’s cute how you think you have control over the situation,” he murmurs, wrapping a wide palm over Teru’s throat. Teru’s pulse goes crazy, the blood pounding in his ears as Shimazaki simply holds him there. The ability to snap his neck, or press down a little bit and cut off his air flow, would take little effort for Shimazaki. He could kill Teru so easily—no, not easily. Teru would put up a fight. He grits his teeth, breathes hard through his nose.
“Are you saying I don’t have any control?” Teru snipes. He reaches forward and cups Shimazaki’s bulge through his tight pants.
Shimazaki inhales sharply through his nose, shoulders tensing briefly. “Only what I let you have,” he breathes.
“Will you let me have this?” Teru asks, and he squeezes the outline of his cock.
Shimazaki groans, tipping his head down, and he removes his hand from Teru’s throat, placing it next to his head. Teru can’t help the victorious smile that slips through his carefully schooled features. Shimazaki won’t kill him because there isn’t anyone else as good as Teru. He could probably find someone else, sure, but would their ass feel as good as Teru’s? Would they know how to suck cock the way he does?
Shimazaki hums, eyelids opening briefly before he stands off the bed to unzip his pants. He pulls his dick out, and Teru notes with annoyance that it’s still mostly soft.
“If I let you have it, what are you going to do with it?” Shimazaki asks.
Teru sits up, scoots to the edge of the bed, and takes the dick in hand. He passes it back and forth between his palms, playing with it shyly until it starts to stiffen up. It pisses him off how patient Shimazaki is when it comes to sex—with everything else too, but sex more than others since Teru himself lacks it especially then. Maybe it's the difference in their age—Shimazaki is old while Teru is young and virile.
So he takes him into his mouth, eager to make Shimazaki unravel. He sucks him down as far as he can go, using his fists to wrap around the rest that his mouth can't reach. Slurps and licks and swirls his tongue around, dragging it up the shaft and around the crown of his head. He nips the foreskin and Shimazaki grimaces, grabbing him by the hair to yank him off.
"Naughty boy,” he chides. Teru’s scalp screams at him.
“Didn’t see that coming, did you?”
“Is this how we’re playing it this time?”
Teru can smell his cologne. The hand not holding his hair cups his face, thumb pressing into his jaw, hard.
“I don’t play games,” Teru says.
Shimazaki bends over and kisses him again. “Playing games is all you do with me.”
Teru is about to ask him what he means by that when his mouth is shoved back down on Shimazaki’s cock until the head bumps the back of his throat. Teru gags, eyes glistening, burning, nostrils flaring. He grapples with Shimazaki’s hips, tries to pull himself free. The leather pants crinkle, join Shimazaki’s moan in a familiar ensemble.
“Why don’t you tell me why you really sent me that text?” Shimazaki pulls him back by the hair only to push him forward until he gags again. Teru’s throat is going to be bruised.
Shit. Teru’s pissed him off. Really made him mad. He’s not letting him up to breathe, or to speak—if he did, Teru would try to explain his side, if he even knew what it was that he did to upset him.
He lets go of Teru’s hair and Teru reels back, gasping for air, eyes bulging and face tingling.
“Do that again and I’ll bite your dick off," he says once he's caught his breath.
“Do that and I’ll kill you.”
Shimazaki smirks. “You’re right. Your body would only stay warm for so long.”
The shivers are back again. Teru’s cock is leaking a wet spot into the front of his sweats. If only he were older, and not ruled by hormonal desires. But he isn’t, and so a terrorist threatening to fuck his fresh corpse after murdering him doesn’t matter as much as the fact that said terrorist is hot.
“You’re a real sicko,” he spits, just before twisting his hands into Shimazaki’s shirt, pulling him down until their mouths crash together.
Shimazaki doesn’t skip a beat. He leans into the kiss, pressing Teru’s back into the mattress, his long fingers tugging Teru’s pants off. Teru’s left exposed from the waist down. Then Shimazaki leans back.
“My dear Teru, what is it that you want?”
Teru’s brows knit. He… he knows what he wants. He does. Teru wants it to hurt, he wants it gentle. He wants Shimazaki to never come back to his apartment and he wants him never to leave.
His cock throbs. Teru inhales. “I want you to suck me off.” Exhales. Shimazaki deflates.
He flicks Teru’s forehead, mouth twisting. “Maybe some other time. I’ll see ya around.”
Then Shimazaki disappears.
Teru bolts up. “What the hell?! Hey!”
He stares at his empty bedroom in disbelief, before quickly checking the kitchen and bathroom, just in case—but Shimazaki is nowhere to be found.
“Seriously…?” he asks the spot Shimazaki had been standing at only minutes ago. What did Teru do wrong? Is Shimazaki really that opposed to sucking dick? No, there’s no way someone with such a foul mouth hasn’t sucked cock before. Maybe Shimazaki is mad at him about something else…
But that doesn’t ring true, either. Shimazaki isn’t the type to keep his feelings hidden, if he was mad at Teru he would let him know in a very painful manner.
It occurs to him that he doesn't actually know what Shimazaki would do. He doesn't actually know Shimazaki at all. He knows things like the sound he makes when he comes inside Teru, how he likes his dick sucked, how he likes to leave marks all over Teru's body so that he's embarrassed about changing in the locker room during soccer practice. But he doesn't know what Shimazaki does for work, or where he lives, if he’s sleeping with anyone else, or even… something simple like what his favorite kind of tea is. Shimazaki keeps him at a distance, always.
Shimazaki had asked Teru out for coffee once, after the first time they fucked. They made plans, picked out a cafe and everything—but Teru ended up cancelling them when Kurosaki-chan from the Awakening Lab asked for his help with training her powers. Shimazaki never rescheduled, and Teru had thought nothing of it, as he still regularly teleported himself to Teru's apartment to fuck him against every surface possible. But Shimazaki never talks about himself. He uses Teru, and lets Teru use him in return.
Could it be possible that Shimazaki wants more than just sex?
Teru shakes his head free of those confusing thoughts. His dick is still hard, so he beats off until he finishes in a tissue, wads it up and tosses it in the trash bin. It's not dark yet, but he's feeling hungry. Maybe he'll make an early dinner.
He doesn't see or hear from Shimazaki the next day, which is unusual. Wednesday, half the week gone but nothing at the end to look forward to yet. Maybe he should see if Kageyama is available, if he's not too busy with Reigen or his little brother. Teru never seems to be able to lock down any time with him lately, but it's probably for the better. He misses his friend but he hasn't seen him since he's started sleeping with Shimazaki, and he has no idea if he'd be able to keep it a secret from him. He hasn't told anyone, actually. It's kinda driving him nuts.
He used to keep a lot of secrets. He didn't consider anyone at his school worthy of being a confidante. But now that he has Kageyama, someone who understands him on such a deep level, and who's seen him at his worst and still likes him... Teru doesn't think he can lie to him.
But what would he even say? That he has sex with a terrorist? (A reformed terrorist. If Shimazaki is even to be believed.) Teru can only imagine the horrified look Kageyama would give him. Deep down Teru knows his actions aren't… they aren't exactly right. He shouldn't really be doing this. Shimazaki tried to kill him, and he's more than twice his age and if it were anyone else Teru would say they're too immature to know what they're getting into. What they're giving away.
It's not like Teru doesn't realize Shimazaki is a pervert. But Teru is different from other kids his age. Besides the most apparent difference—that being, his impressive psychic powers—he's also much more mature than his peers. He lives alone, does his own grocery shopping, cooking, cleaning, laundry… He knows how to lead a group, how to keep control over his emotions instead of swooning for Shimazaki like all of Teru’s fangirls do to him. Shimazaki couldn't take advantage of Teru, even if he tried.
But would Kageyama see it that way?
The following day Shimazaki shows up while Teru is studying at his desk and flips his thick math textbook closed. His cologne is mild but comforting, and Teru can’t help but shut his eyes, shoulders draining of tension.
“You know, you could call me first to see if I’m busy,” he says, looking up at him.
“You’re assuming I care whether you’re busy or not.” Shimazaki tilts his head. “Are you even going to use this stuff once you graduate? I know I don’t.”
“Maybe I want to do something more with my life than beat people up with my powers.”
Shimazaki laughs like it was a joke. “Right.”
Teru wonders again what Shimazaki is doing with his life. He said once that he was no longer getting into fights, but he doesn’t seem particularly motivated to do good like how Teru felt after his own eye-opening. Too bad Kageyama is such a pacifist; Shimazaki could use another ass-kicking.
He could give Shimazaki one… but if Kageyama ever found out Teru was using his powers to fight people without cause again, well, Teru's sure he'd be more disappointed than if he found out about the sex. Fighting him is definitely off the table, even if Teru really wants to take him down a peg.
"I'm young, with options,” Teru says, bringing the conversation back to focus. “You're old and hopeless."
Shimazaki doesn't say anything for a while. Teru opens his textbook again, flipping through the pages to try to find his place.
"Is that what you really think of me? I don't believe it for a second."
"Why not?" Teru mutters, still trying to find the page he was on.
Shimazaki flips the book closed again and pushes it away to make space for him to perch on the desk.
"Because you definitely have options, but you're still chasing after my cock. Or maybe you just like old losers."
"I’m not chasing after you.”
“You’re definitely not running away. Some people would say you’re the aggressor here.”
“Blind people, maybe,” he snaps without thinking, then realizes what he said a second later. Wincing, he decides to just ignore it—it’s not like he’s not talking to the terrorist who tried to kill him. Shimazaki doesn’t react to the slip. “It’s not like you couldn’t just do whatever you wanted with me, like I have a choice.”
Shimazaki frowns, then, leaning forward slightly. He can detect hints of spice in Shimazaki’s scent this close—cinnamon? “Are you saying you don’t want this? It wasn’t my intention to take advantage of you. Besides, you’re quite feisty, I figured you wouldn’t keep it a secret if you really wanted me gone.”
“Of course I want you gone, you’re a creep."
“Oh then I’ll leave—”
Teru grabs his sleeve, even knowing Shimazaki could just teleport away if he wished to, and feels his face erupt in flames of humiliation. Of course, of course Shimazaki would attempt to weasle a confession out of him. He just has to embarrass Teru at every opportunity. Does he need Teru to say it, can’t he just tell?
“You’re a creep but you have use,” Teru says quietly. Unable to meet his face and see that smug expression, he averts his gaze to the floor. God, he smells good.
Shimazaki leans closer. "Pervert, creep, predator—those are all correct." He lifts and plants his foot on the edge of the chair between Teru's legs, nudging it underneath him. Teru gasps, feeling his crotch pressed right against Shimazaki’s ankle, and as he moves Teru can feel every little shift through his body. His shin is just a hair’s width away from Teru’s swelling cock, if he just leaned forward…
He snaps out of it; he’s not going to hump him like a dog.
“Come on, my little star.” Shimazaki’s voice is sizzling, hot and wanton against Teru’s ear, his body closing him in. “Tell me what you want.”
“You—ahh,” he moans when Shimazaki licks the shell of his ear.
“You want me.” Shimazaki pulls back. “Which part of me? Tell me what you’re thinking.”
Teru grinds his lap against the seat, trying to find a modicum of friction. Shimazaki is leaning into him expectantly, but Teru doesn’t know what he wants to hear. Whether he’s asking literally or figuratively. Teru rests his forehead against Shimazaki’s knee, breathing deep. He’s so much bigger, it overwhelms him.
“You wanted me to suck your cock, right?”
Teru’s heart pounds in his ears. He nods, not looking up until the foot on the chair shoves back. The chair legs screech against the hardwood floor, and Shimazaki drops to his knees in their place, pulling Teru’s dick out of his sweatpants.
“Excited already?” he teases when he sees Teru is already half-hard.
“Excited to see if you can put that mouth to good use.”
“It’s adept at riling you up.”
Teru clenches his jaw. “Blow me or get out.”
He holds his breath, knowing it’s a gamble to put the option on the table. Past experiences say Shimazaki is just as likely to up and leave him as he is to blow him, but Teru’s pride can only take so much destruction before he has to dust himself off. So he’s rather caught off-guard when Shimazaki takes his entire length in his mouth, immediately flipping the switch in Teru’s mind from fighting to oh fuck, holy fucking shit—
Shimazaki’s mouth is heaven. He sucks hard, wrapping his lips around Teru’s shaft tightly and sliding up and down at a slow pace. The suction he creates is strong, his tongue flat, hot, and wet, and Teru’s balls are already drawing up. A tingle races up his spine and he arches into Shimazaki’s mouth, ass raising off the seat to force that hot mouth to take him all the way to the base.
Teru shoves his fist in his mouth, biting down to smother the noises he wants to make so badly. He still has his pride though, so he can’t let Shimazaki know just how amazing it feels or how close to coming he already is after just seconds of being blown. Shimazaki makes a noise just as Teru feels the tip touch the back of his throat.
His fingers dig into Shimazaki’s spiked locks. “Do that again,” he rasps, hips bucking of their own volition.
Shimazaki moans around his cock again, pulls back to swirl his tongue around the head. Takes him to the base again, making little noises of pleasure as he does, the vibrations coursing through Teru’s length so deep he swears he can feel it in his gut.
“Shit, I’m gonna—” He tugs feebly at Shimazaki’s hair, a part of his conscious aware that he should warn Shimazaki but not actually wanting that slick heat to leave his dick. “Gonna, fuck, oh fuck!”
His words dissolve into a muddle of sounds and gasps as his cock pulsates, overcome by the intensity of his orgasm. It’s a hundred times better than a hand, and then there’s the image of Shimazaki on his knees and bent over him with his dick in his mouth, knowing he’s coming down his throat and being forced to taste his seed, that arrogant face finally mollified.
Teru pants. Shimazaki holds him in his mouth even after he’s come down from his high, tongue lazily stroking along his length. Gratifying little sparks jolt through his cock, spreading in his thighs and abs. Teru tenses full-body, his fingers gripping the edges of his seat as his balls draw up and his dick begins to ache.
“Oh shit!” Teru yanks Shimazaki away when it becomes too much.
He groans. His body is tingling all over, and Shimazaki tilts his face up toward Teru, smiling. A speck of cum is on his chin, and Teru leans forward to kiss him possessively, hands digging into his scalp. More, more.
He has Shimazaki wrapped around his finger.
Kageyama finds out. Ritsu, too. It was bound to happen at some point, Teru comforts himself—secrets like this aren’t meant to last.
He wishes it hadn’t been through Shimazaki actually teleporting into his apartment while the Kageyama brothers were visiting, but really it was Teru’s fault. He totally spaced on warning Shimazaki not to come over that day.
“He’s changed,” Teru finds himself telling Kageyama.
“Has he?” asks Ritsu, skeptically.
“Has he?” asks Kageyama, hopefully.
Teru opens his mouth, ready to defend this strange man who he knows next to nothing about, but no words come to mind. He thinks back to their time spent together. Shimazaki’s fingers, rough and insistent as he fucks him, then sweet and lingering as he holds him. Eating all his food, then offering to buy him more. Always asking Teru what he wants, reminding him in different ways to speak up. The smell of his cologne, mild and comforting.
Ritsu takes his silence as validation. “What are you getting out of helping him?” His eyes bore into Teru’s, brows drawn low with severity. Teru looks at Kageyama, though.
“I… think he has.”
Kageyama gives a small smile. “That’s good.”
“Wh-what? Nii-san?” Ritsu is sweaty, visibly shaken. “You don’t really believe him, right? Why would that creep teleport into Hanazawa’s apartment and then leave as soon as he saw you—if he really changed, he’d have nothing to fear.”
“We just startled him, I think,” Kageyama says calmly. “I believe Hanazawa-kun.”
Teru lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He eyes Ritsu critically; at least someone is on his side.
“Are you sure he’s not doing anything shady, though?” Ritsu asks. “He’s not hurting you?”
Teru snorts. “Who—me? I can take care of myself.”
“That guy isn’t someone to take lightly,” Ritsu continues. “You and I both know that.”
“Ritsu, are you ready to go?” Kageyama asks, and Ritsu breaks his incessant glaring to smile at his brother.
“After you, Nii-san.”
After they leave, Teru sits on the bed for a long while, staring off into space. He feels phantom twinges on his throat where Shimazaki had squeezed too hard, tenderness on his inner thighs where he left bite marks. Teru has this all under control, though. He has Shimazaki under control.
Teru takes out his phone and calls him. He picks up after one ring, as though he was waiting for it.
“They’re gone now. Everything’s OK,” Teru sighs into his phone. “Did you... want to come over?” Teru tries to sound cute and alluring. He could use the mental distraction Shimazaki brings.
“Maybe not tonight. But I’ll be waiting for you after school tomorrow.”
Tomorrow, that’s Friday. “I don’t have any clubs tomorrow,” Teru says. They’d have all afternoon and all night, wouldn’t have to get up early the next day. So much time to kill.
“I know. I’ll be just outside the gate.”
Shimazaki doesn’t show up in a sleek car, with windows so dark no one can see in. Probably because he can’t drive, being blind, but he stands outside the wrought iron gates of Teru’s middle school on the prowl all the same, spine curved in confidence, dark clothes that speak of intimidation and elegance. He wears shades he doesn’t need, hands in pockets, menthol cigarette between his lips, cool. His presence as ominous as a middle-aged predator parked out front stinking of cheap cologne.
But Shimazaki’s not like that. Teru doesn’t even mind the arm slung over his shoulders as they walk, his chest puffing out as he feels his schoolmates envious eyes on him. Let them see, let them murmur behind his back; it’s different, Teru isn’t some naive girl. Teru’s the king of these lands.
“You had a test today, didn’t you?” Shimazaki asks as they stroll through the streets. He didn’t even bother asking Teru if they could teleport, he knows Teru’s preference for walking. He’s trying to abuse his powers less, be a good example for Shimazaki.
“Yeah, math. I did well I’m sure.”
“That’s good,” Shimazaki says. He sounds a bit out of his element. It’s weird, actually. Shimazaki never makes small talk, but here he is, doing it. Teru frowns.
“Did something happen?”
“What are we going to do?”
“I have a surprise for you. To celebrate your passing the test.”
“I have tests all the time, it’s not really worth celebrating…”
“Hm. Well fine, think of it as me treating you.”
“That’s even more suspicious.”
“Paying you back?”
“Not any better.”
“I bought beer and am going to coerce you into getting drunk so I can do bad things to you.”
Teru scoffs. “Like you can make me do anything I don’t want to.”
“Is that a no, then?”
Teru glances around; no one’s paying them any mind. A middle schooler and a man twice his age holding onto him like he’s his girlfriend (like how Teru has done to countless girls), and no one bats an eye. This is how kids lose their innocence—good thing Teru lost his long ago.
“Maybe I’ll have one,” he says, like he knows anything about drinking. He’s curious, though. This is what adults do on the weekend: get together, drink, smoke, fuck. They don’t need to tell their parents what they’re up to or who they’re with, they don’t have to worry about homework, they can do whatever they want. Teru’s an adult in all but age.
It tastes bad. Refreshing in a way Teru can’t pin down, he pinches his eyes closed as he chugs the first bottle down, just wanting to get it over with. Shimazaki laughs as he sips his own.
“It’s not a race. If you really don’t like it you can say so.”
Teru pauses halfway. “No, it’s not—bad,” he lies.
“It’s an acquired taste.”
This turns out to be true, and it turns out Teru acquires the taste for it by the time he finishes the first bottle. Shimazaki pushes another into his hands, Teru pops the cap with his powers, his shoulders loosening. Warmth seeps into his bones as he sips the second one slower. He turns on the TV for something to look at that isn’t Shimazaki and his bobbing throat. Something not so tempting.
“You feeling it?” asks Shimazaki. “Your sensory output is all—” He waves a hand around Teru’s face, like Teru has any idea what his nervous system looks like, “—fuddled.”
“I feel good.”
“You should slow down then. Pace yourself.”
Teru does not. He finishes the second beer and moves onto the third, getting progressively loopier and relaxed, molding his body into the bed. Shimazaki is warm pressed against his back, his cock firm between his ass cheeks. Maybe he wasn’t joking about doing bad things to Teru. Heat collects low in his pelvis at the thought and Teru’s dick twitches. He rolls around to face Shimazaki, plants a wet kiss on his Adam’s apple, so biteable.
“Why did you bring alcohol?” he asks, tongue heavy and fat in his mouth.
“This is what I do on the weekends.”
Shimazaki smiles. His teeth are so white, Teru’s never really noticed before. “I don’t get drunk from three beers.”
“Because I built up a tolerance.”
Teru shakes his head. “No, why did you want to drink with me?”
Shimazaki shrugs a shoulder, fingers coming to comb through Teru’s hair and sweep his bangs back. “I don’t know,” he says quietly. “I thought you would appreciate being treated like… like, an equal, I guess.”
Teru likes it. Teru likes him.
Shimazaki undresses him, his breath sour and humid as he maps out Teru’s body with his lips. Takes Teru into his mouth while he stretches him open on three fingers, so gentle Teru doesn’t know what to do with himself. His cheeks are wet when Shimazaki spreads him open on his cock, and he halts, fingers brushing away the wetness.
“Is something wrong? You’re crying?” Shimazaki doesn’t sound sorry, but Teru doesn’t want him to be anyway.
“‘m fine.” His voice sounds all choked up, nose thick with snot.
“You look…” Shimazaki’s eyes are open, the endless black tracking over Teru’s face and body as he rocks into him slowly, cataloguing his every twitch and shudder. “Your aura looks so… sparkly.” He leans down and kisses him on the mouth. “My star.”
Teru’s concept of time blurs and blends, sighs turn to moans turn to desperate shouts. Holding turns to pinning, pressing, bending until Teru’s ass is fucked so hard his vision swims. His little cock leaks all over his tummy like melted wax, Shimazaki’s voice in his ear like melted butter. Hot, dripping—Teru wants more, needs more. Fingers press so hard they leave indents on the back of his thighs, the heavy smack of balls against his ass keep him tethered to the present. When Teru comes it’s with a whimper, his eyes like sandpaper from crying and mouth dry from frantic moaning. His rim clenches down on Shimazaki vise-like, forcing him to come undone as well, and he thrusts to the base silently, emptying inside Teru with a single gasp.
He’s vaguely aware of Shimazaki leaving the room and coming back with a wet rag, wiping between Teru’s thighs. He makes an aborted sound of protest, too tired, too drunk to feel self-conscious or embarrassed. He doesn’t realize he started to fall asleep until the bed dips, startling him. Shimazaki climbs behind him, curling around his body and dragging the covers over them.
“Has the great shadow leader Hanazawa Teruki finally been defeated?”
Teru swats at him, expecting Shimazaki to teleport away to avoid it, but instead he grabs Teru’s hand and squeezes it. Letting it go, he brings his fingers up to Teru’s face, hesitantly tracing the shape of his jaw.
“What are you doing?” Teru barely opens his eyes, he’s so out of it.
Shimazaki’s fingertips skim over his lips. “Looking at you.” Over the bridge of Teru’s nose, grazing his eyelashes, his cheeks. “You’re cute,” Shimazaki says, like he’s just realizing it for the first time.
“Yeah? You didn’t know before?” he answers flippantly—because he’s been called cute countless times before—then it hits him what Shimazaki said.
He called Teru cute.
Teru’s cheeks burn, and he turns his face away hoping to hide it, but Shimazaki opens his eyelids and peers at him with those seemingly bottomless black pits.
“Oh, I embarrassed you!”
“Shut up,” Teru mumbles, and brushes Shimazaki’s hand away. “I’m tired, let me sleep.”
Teru feels Shimazaki let out a sharp exhale through his nose, tickling the back of his neck.
“Get some rest, little star.”
There’s cotton shoved in his mouth, and someone has taken a nail gun to his left temple—or at least it feels like it. When Teru stumbles to his bathroom the next day (afternoon, not morning, he confirms with a quick glance at his phone), he looks as bad as he feels. Puffy eyes, finger-shaped bruises on his bicep, hair sticking up in every direction and matted with product. Lucky for him Shimazaki is blind—he’ll never have to worry about looking ugly in the morning.
And Shimazaki actually stayed the entire night. He was still sleeping in the bed when Teru woke up and crept to the toilet to take a leak. Teru pops his head out of the bathroom and through the doorway to the main room. Shimazaki is still there, curled around the empty space Teru occupied all night. His belly flip-flops at the sight. To think this man is a former terrorist who once tried to kill him.
What is Teru doing? Is he really any different than some dumb lovestruck teenage girl, being wooed with compliments about how mature and cool she is, her legs pried open with alcohol and money? He is more mature than the other kids in his school, smarter and stronger and more attractive, too—but that doesn’t mean he can’t get in over his head.
Teru stomps over to where Shimazaki is sleeping and nudges him with his foot. Shimazaki doesn’t stir at first, so he shoves him harder.
“Wake up. You’re in my bed.”
Shimazaki begins to move, rolling onto his back.
He yawns. “Y-yes? I know this is your bed…”
“So, don’t you have your own bed in your own place? Go there.”
Shimazaki frowns. “Teru, you’re upset.”
“Thanks for telling me how I feel.”
“Are you hungover? I didn’t think three beers would do you in so bad.”
“Why did you stay the night?” Teru asks suddenly.
Shimazaki shrugs. “Is it a problem?”
“Just answer the question.”
Shimazaki does not. He’s silent for a stretch of several seconds, and Teru thinks he’s going to teleport away like he has done on many other occasions when Teru has tried picking a fight.
Teru sighs and lowers his voice. “Did you really turn yourself in to the government?”
“They really let you free after abducting the prime minister on live television? You expect me to believe that?”
Shimazaki starts to look lost. He sits up in the bed, the cover falling away from his bare torso. Teru remembers bits from last night, Shimazaki tracing the lines of his face, fucking him until he cried. Teru feels like he doesn’t really know the man in front of him at all.
“There were conditions I had to meet,” says Shimazaki, “to stay out of prison. I’m… mostly complying.”
Shimazaki smirks, tilts his head down. “I’m not supposed to commit any more crimes.”
Teru’s heart pounds and his jaw clenches, ready to yell at him when he realizes.
Teru is the exception.
He switches gears. “And do you really have a job?”
Shimazaki perks up, nodding. “Yes, totally legal and everything.”
“Then why won’t you tell me what it is? Every time I’ve asked, you just…”
Shimazaki shifts on the bed, reaches for Teru’s hand and tugs on it so he sits with him. "You want to know what I do?” he says quietly. “I got a job at a host club."
"A host club? Aren't you old for that?"
"...How old do you think I am, exactly?"
"Before, you said close to two decades older than me."
"Closer to two decades. People don't just wither up when they turn 30, you know."
"Still, being a host at your age—"
Shimazaki huffs. "That's enough. And I'm not a host, I'm security."
"Oh," Teru sighs in relief before he can think better of it, and Shimazaki is sharp. He notices, his smile stretching wide.
"Aw, were you worried about rich ladies buying their way into my pants?"
"It's alright, you can be jealous."
Teru scrunches his shoulders to his ears. "I wasn't. I'm not."
"It wouldn’t bother me if you were."
Teru squints. "...What?"
"You know, you would do well at a host club. You're supposedly pretty enough, you have all the girls at your school charmed, and unlike me, you're young. Maybe when you graduate, you could move to Tokyo and we could work at a club together."
Teru shakes his head, frowning. "Hold up, what did you say?"
"You said… you wanted me to be jealous?"
"I didn't say that."
"Yes, you did."
"I said it wouldn’t bother me, and I was just talking—think about it, if I wanted you to be jealous I'd have been flaunting it in your face like how you do with all your girlfriends at school."
"I don't have any girlfriends—"
"Fine, friends who just happen to be girls—"
"—and I wasn't trying to flaunt anything—"
"So you were trying to hide it?"
Shimazaki stops talking abruptly. Teru flushes. He didn’t mean to yell—he’s just so tired and his skull feels like it’s filled with concrete, and Shimazaki never just says what he means and Teru doesn’t understand how adults can function like this, so sure-footed when everything around them is so uncertain. His hands are trembling.
It’s so quiet in the room that a pin dropping would be like a door slamming. The afternoon sun is filtering in through the drawn shades, and Teru hears cars driving out on the streets below. Friday night has come and passed and everyone moves on.
"I'm not sorry for anything that I’ve done," he starts, blinking rapidly to quell the burning behind his eyelids. "You just showed up one day and started…" He shakes his head again. This isn't what he wants to say. He takes a deep breath, rubs a hand over his eyes. His fist comes back wet. Teru starts over.
"You think I’m just playing games with you. You think I don’t know what I want, and that I’m just a kid.”
“I asked you what you want and you say you want a blow job, or a handy in the storage closet. If all you want from me is sex then that’s all I’ll give you.”
“That’s—that’s what I thought you were asking about! I didn’t know you meant like, what I wanted. And in my defense, you wouldn’t tell me anything. You just come over and screw me and go back to your place.”
“You are always so busy with your school and social responsibilities…”
“You think that I’m going to outgrow you.”
“You’re young,” says Shimazaki plainly, like it explains everything.
“So, what—I can’t have feelings because I’m young?”
Shimazaki sighs. “I didn’t say that—”
“But my feelings aren’t genuine to you.”
“I believe that you believe they’re genuine—”
“Oh, come on!”
“What do you want me to say, Teru? Our lives are so different. I haven’t been in your world for many years and you’ve never been in mine. You can’t understand me any better than I can understand you.”
“Well I can’t if you don’t let me try.”
“Do you want to try?”
“I do.” Then, with more conviction, “Yeah, I do. Do you… also want to?”
Shimazaki smiles softly. “Whatever you want, I’ll give to you.”
“Really?” asks Teru quietly.
Shimazaki pulls him to his chest, wrapping an arm around him, and his palm rubs up and down Teru’s back. “You’re very clever. Surely you’ve figured out how I feel about you by now?”
“Maybe, just this once, pretend that I haven’t?”
Shimazaki hums thoughtfully, dipping his nose into the crook of Teru’s shoulder. He hears him inhale. “I love the way you smell. I love the way your aura lights up when I touch you, or when I call you my star. I’m having a lot of fun with you, and I would like to keep spending time with you like this. I guess people your age would call it… dating? Boyfriends?”
Teru can’t breathe.
“How does that sound?”
He looks up at him, unable to hold back his smile. He wonders if Shimazaki can tell, if his aura is lighting up right now. “I guess we can do that. Sure.”