Trapped Behind Words: InuOkko

Chapter 23: Riko

"Satoru, come back to bed," the tired voice of Geto Suguru groaned.

It was odd. When Suguru was around, all Satoru could do was forget the world. He sat on a cold leather stool looking out over Tokyo, doing all he could to look past the crystal blue eyes that stared back at him in the slight reflection.

Not quite morning yet, but still light enough to see the outline of the city against his twenty-year-old body that was hunched over on the stool. It wasn't his and Suguru's first big business trip together, but it felt a little uneasy, possibly because Suguru kept insisting they be careful and maintain a more prestigious image around others.

"Yeah, yeah," Satoru mumbled with a hushed smile.

He shut the curtain on the window, as if anyone could make out the view of their penthouse suite. The windows were tinted to ensure that was impossible, but Satoru took the precaution; otherwise, Suguru would complain again. It wasn't Satoru's fault he didn't feel the need to hide himself away.

When Satoru turned to see the bed, all he could make out were the curves of Suguru's body twisted in the sheets. Satoru exhaled through his nose before stretching his shoulders. He sat on the edge of the bed, feeling the cool touch of silk against the back of his thighs.

He laid down, fully awake, tugging the blankets loose from Suguru's grasp. With one motion, Satoru pressed his body against Suguru's. He felt himself immediately throb as their flesh met.

"It's too early, Satoru," Suguru whispered, but he wiggled even closer.

Almost instinctually, Satoru's hips rotated in place, prodding Suguru's bare body. That's how Suguru always was. He would complain about the situation, but never denied himself when Satoru asked. It became so typical that Satoru didn't have to part his lips to start their procession.

Being able to touch Suguru's firm yet ample pecs, taste the nape of his neck, feel his hair against Satoru's stomach–that was all the holy preceptor between Satoru's thighs cared for. But the fact Suguru loved him made Satoru that much more insatiable.

"Just hand stuff, okay? My jaw still hurts," Suguru's whispers became quiet moans.

Satoru panted, "Haa, sure. Whatever you say."

When they were finished, morning light had begun peeking in through the edges of the curtains. Satoru laid on his back with his hands behind his head and a satisfied smirk on his face. There was no better way to wake up in the morning.

"Are we getting breakfast before we meet up with the girl?" Suguru asked.

"I'm surprised you want to eat any more than you already did," Satoru giggled to himself.

Before he could react, a pair of socks barreled into his left eye with precision aim. He grit his teeth in irritation, but knew he was asking for the response. Satoru wasn't even on board with this whole dignitary mission his family had sent him on. What was the point of meeting up with some banker's daughter in the first place? She was just a kid; it's not like Satoru was some kind of lolicon.

"Just get ready. It's not like I want to do this either," Suguru grunted, pulling a shirt over his back.

"And why are you here anyway? All I know is I came to check in and you were already waiting with my room key in hand," Satoru muttered.

"Unlike some people," Suguru turned and tossed a pair of fitted black pants and underwear on Satoru's chest. "Don't have all your familial connections."

"You couldn't just say you were jealous of the brat?" Satoru pulled the underwear on.

"My apparent breakfast should leave you empty for at least a few hours. So, even if I was jealous, not like I have anything to worry about," Suguru smiled, gently tying his hair in a bun.