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TITLE: Stranger Things Have Happened In The Nighttime
AUTHOR: Lemontail on AO3

TITLE: Stranger Things Have Happened In The NighttimeAUTHOR: Lemontail on AO3

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It's become part of their routine.

They never talked about it. Never exchanged a single word during it.

Satoru stared at the manual clock on the wall. Impatient. Desperate. The long finger seemed to move in slow motion, each tick amplified, echoing in the empty room. Just one more loop of the finger and then he'd be here.

The digit crossed over the crookedly printed XII. Satoru had bought it at a market in Ichihara for an absolute bargain. Although none of the calligraphic numbers were symmetrical and the battery had to be changed almost weekly. The VII was smeared too. Something that bothered Suguru every time he glanced at it. It couldn't bother him now. He was late and Satoru was alone in his room.

Goosebumps were starting to form on his naked skin. He could use a second warm body any time now.

The fingers did another full loop. Once. Twice. The speed of his heart increased to compensate for the slowly moving time. Something akin to fear built in Satoru.

His thoughts cursed through the information of the last mission Suguru had been assigned to. It was out of town, but nothing Suguru couldn't handle. A level 2 curse. Easy.

Had something happened? It couldn't have. They would've sent Satoru after him if there was even a remote chance of a higher-level curse being present at the haunted shed in Toshima. They would've sent for Satoru. Someone would've come by now to tell him-

The doorknob twisted and the door was pushed open. Suguru's head popped through the narrow slit before his entire body, tall and broad-shouldered, sneaked into the room and the door was shut just as quietly behind him.

Where the hell were you?

He bit his bottom lip to stop the words from spurting out. Forced them into a smile. He wouldn't break their customary law. Suguru would only start worrying about him. Think of Satoru as someone weak he had to take care of. A burden he couldn't respect. Satoru wouldn't lose to him.

"You're late," he noted languorously. He uncrossed his legs, spreading them just enough apart to expose his flaccid dick and hanging balls. He ignored the magnetic pull. The attraction of his body trying to launch itself into Suguru's arms. He'd get there eventually. When they were all fucked out, Suguru never questioned why Satoru's head was resting on his chest.

He loved nothing more than those brief minutes after the climax. Listening to Suguru's heartbeat after he'd emptied himself inside of Satoru. Fast and strong. Chest rapidly rising and falling. Muscles still pumping with adrenaline, veins cursing, beats of sweat racing down his skin.

Suguru's eyes fell on the clock on the wall. His face twisted in dislike at seeing the smeared digit.

"Only by three minutes. Did you do something useful in that time?"

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