Work Text:
Chikara hits the brick wall chest-first.
His eyes are closed, lips swollen and parted around a pretty moan, and though his arms and legs are completely free, he makes no move to get away from the body caging him in.
“Chikara,” comes that smooth purr in his ear. “Look at yourself. So worked up, panting and drooling already and I haven’t even touched you.”
“Eita,” he breathes in response.
Eita hums behind him, one hand braced on the wall next to Chikara’s face. “You’ll have to be quieter, baby. Unless you want the whole diner to hear you get fucked.” Chikara squirms, biting back a whimper as Eita flips up the skirt of his novelty carhop uniform. “Oh, you wanted to be a slut today, did you?”
Eita’s strong, callused hand grips Chikara’s ass, thumb tracing the line of the pink lace panties he’d put on that morning. (And if Chikara was anticipating a situation just as this, and prepared for it? No one had to know.)
Eita knows, though. Eita knows Chikara’s body and his seduction methods as well as Eita knows how to ride their motorcycle.
“Maybe I did,” Chikara says, trying for sass as he arches his back, popping his ass back.
Eita spanks him once. “And what if,” they say, voice a low growl in Chikara’s ear now, “someone else saw before me, huh? What if some perv tried to grope you and found this little surprise, and decided he wanted you? Would you let him?”
Chikara shakes his head rapidly. “No, never! I want you, Eita, only you.”
Eita hums, spanking the other cheek. “Too bad, baby, I’m not convinced yet.”
“Eitaaaa,” Chikara whines. “I want you so bad. You were gone this morning when I woke up, and you said you’d be here, so…”
“How about,” Eita says, spinning Chikara around and pushing him down to his knees, “you suck my cock and I'll think about giving you what you want.”
Chikara goes without a word, without a question, adoration surely evident on his face as he reaches for the zipper of Eita’s ripped skinny jeans. The toy bulges against their hip, springing out as Chikara works the waistband down. “Gods, Eita, you’ve been wearing that all day?”
Eita’s only response is a smirk and fingers tangled in Chikara’s hair. “Less talking and more sucking, baby. You’ll want to get that nice and wet.”
Chikara shivers at the command, lashes fluttering as he gets to work. He sucks the toy with care, and though he knows Eita can’t feel what he’s doing with his tongue, he does it anyway, making a show of bobbing his head up and down.
“There’s a good boy,” Eita praises him quietly, tugging on his hair to guide him along. “Make it wet. Drool on my cock, baby, let me see it.”
Chikara does just that, unable to keep the moans from slipping out as he kneels there slobbering on the silicone. “Please, Eita,” he begs in between sloppy licks. “Please, fuck me.”
“You’ll have to be more specific, baby,” Eita purrs. “Fuck you where? How? Which hole?”
“Fuck my cunt, Eita.” There’s not a hint of shame in his voice as the plea comes out. “Please, Eita, fuck my cunt. Fuck me against the wall so hard I can’t keep quiet—”
The next thing Chikara knows, they’re standing again, being spun around to face the wall and hips pulled back. He braces his arms against the rough brick, trying to crane his neck around to watch Eita’s movements. “Please,” he says again.
“You’re a whore, Chikara,” Eita informs him as he flips the skirt up and pushes the panties aside, fingertips rubbing idly over Chikara’s wet slit. “This slutty outfit, the slutty panties, soaking wet from sucking my strap.”
“Yes, yes I’m a whore for you,” Chikara babbles, grinding his hips back in hopes of getting Eita’s fingers inside of him.
It isn’t to last. Eita pulls back, but before Chikara can make another protest, the blunt, thick head of the fake cock is pressing against his pussy lips. The words die on his tongue, replaced with a low, long moan.
“Quiet,” Eita hisses, reaching forward to shove three fingers into Chikara’s mouth. He latches onto them, sucking to keep himself quiet as Eita stuffs the strap deeper into his cunt. It’s a struggle, the occasional squeak or whimper spilling out from the corners of his mouth, but finally, finally, Eita bottoms out inside him. “Like that, do you, slut?”
Chikara nods, and nearly bites Eita’s fingers when they pull their hips back and thrust into him again. “Now keep being a good slut for me and let me breed your cunt before you go back to work.”
Eita always fucks him something wild. There’s no real pattern, or rhythm—just hard, primal fucking, thrusts that make Chikara whine and scream and see stars and clench hard around the strap. He closes his eyes, trying to lose himself in the sensations, letting his consciousness narrow down to the pounding his pussy is receiving. When Eita brings their other hand down to rub insistently at his clit, he’s done for. He cums with a muffled shout, hips bucking and cunt spasming; behind him, Eita fucks him through it, chest heaving against Chikara’s back.
Eita pulls out, and Chikara spins back around to kiss him. “I love you,” he whispers.
Eita grins crookedly, straightening out their leather jacket. “I love you, too. I’ll come back to pick you up in a few hours.”
Chikara has a measly three minutes to shake off the afterglow, so he rushes to the staff bathroom and splashes cold water on his face. Fortunately his uniform doesn’t look disheveled—he straightens out the skirt and makes sure his panties are in place, and then returns to work.
Morisuke, his manager, spots him and rolls his eyes. “Listen, kid, I’m happy you’re getting some. But next time, can you fuck quieter? This is a family diner.”