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“Don’t feed it. It’s gonna keep coming back.”
Satoru’s voice was cool and detached. It felt like it always was these days.
You knew he wanted to go up to your apartment. You knew he wanted to sink his teeth into your flesh, your half-eaten dinner long forgotten on the kitchen counter. You knew he wanted to wrap your thighs around his waist and carry you to your bedroom.
You knew he wanted you to make him feel better.
You tore off a piece of your corn dog, holding it out to the small orange cat in front of you. Tentatively, it sniffed at your fingers before quickly snatching the morsel and darting off to enjoy his prize well out of your reach.
“Didn’t you hear me?” Irritation crept into Satoru’s tone.
You watched as the cat ate, glancing at you every once in a while, trying to make sure you didn’t plan to take back your gift.
“It’s gonna be here begging for food every day now.”
You held out another piece of corn dog.
Someone should get to enjoy it.
“That’s okay,” you replied quietly. “I don’t mind.”
Satoru huffed in frustration. The cat crept closer again, lingering a bit longer by your hand before darting back with its dinner.
His fingers drummed against his bicep. You glanced up at him, stifling the urge to smile. No matter how much he tried to change, no matter how much he restrained himself, you could still see a small piece of his heart on his sleeve. Even though he had done his very best to lock it away years ago.
You crossed your arms and let them rest on top of your knees, dropping your head to join them. He was wearing that blindfold again, so you couldn’t really tell what he was looking at, but you were confident that it wasn’t you.
He was so tall. Sometimes it shocked you, how tall he’d gotten. His limbs were long and lovely, impossibly so. His hair was longer too. He’d grown into such a handsome man. Not that he wasn’t handsome when you were young, but he looked different now. He was different now.
The fading sunlight created a halo of soft white around his features. The way the sunset reflected off his skin and hair, the way it caught the blue of his iris as he lifted his blindfold to rub his eye gave him the effect of something otherworldly. Something divine. You supposed these days he was. To you, he always had been.
A soft meow snapped you out of your trance. The cat was sniffing at the corn dog that dangled from your fingers. You giggled as it sank its teeth in, startling it. The cat jumped and started to run, but quickly, tempted by the corn dog, returned.
You held the stick out to it, letting it take as big a bite as it wanted, still laughing quietly.
“Awful brave all the sudden, aren’t you?” you teased.
The cat purred.
You held out your other hand, letting the cat sniff at your fingertips. It lost interest quickly, returning to its dinner. Slowly, you ran a finger along the top of its head. It flinched but didn’t run. You smiled and stroked the spot between its ears.
A large hand landed on your shoulder.
“That’s enough.” You glanced up at Satoru. You were sure he was looking at you this time. “That was supposed to be your dinner.”
“It’s fine,” you replied. Your eyes drifted back to the cat. It tugged at the corn dog and you released it, watching as it dragged it away. You took his hand and allowed him to pull you up, leading you towards your apartment. “It was hungry.”
“So am I.”
Satoru was right. The cat was there the next day when you came home from work. This time you came prepared. It watched you from a distance until you crouched low and pulled out the small container of cat food you had picked up on your way home. Just in case.
It was there the next day too. And the day after that. You started keeping a small bowl full of water by the door to your apartment. You bought a big pack of cat food and hid it in the back of your pantry so that Satoru wouldn’t see if he came over. Not that he ever spent much time outside of your bedroom.
You started keeping a small container of food and a few treats in your bag. The cat started running up to you when you approached. Some days it even stuck its head into your bag, searching for the food. Others it acted standoffish, like it didn’t even care about the food, but it always caved when you pulled out a treat.
“Good kitty,” you hummed, scratching behind its ear one soft summer day. It hadn’t run away when it finished eating, staying and rubbing against your legs until you reached down to pet it. The cat purred loudly, nuzzling into your hand. It stared up at you with large, golden eyes that caught the light in an achingly familiar way. You ran your thumb over its cheek fondly, a soft smile settling onto your lips. “I hope you don’t start wearing a blindfold too.”
“I told you not to feed that thing.” You jumped up, dropping your keys with a loud clatter. Satoru was standing behind you, one hand shoved in his pocket, the other rubbing his eye through the blindfold. You glanced back at the spot where the cat was.
“You scared it away.”
He laughed. It was a pretty sound, but it lacked the warmth it used to carry. “That was all you, sweetheart.”
He sounded tired. He always sounded tired. You stared vacantly at the sidewalk, as if the cat would reappear.
“Brought you some dinner.” You could hear the rustling of a plastic bag as he lifted it to show you. You didn’t bother turning around. “Should we eat inside?”
You shouldn’t. You knew you shouldn’t. Just like you shouldn’t have let him crawl into your bed after he came home the day Shoko found him. Just like you shouldn’t have let him in when he came back the next day. And the day after that.
He crouched in front of you and picked up the keys, slipping the bag that contained your dinner onto his wrist and reaching for your hand. You let him take it. You let him guide you into your apartment like it was his own. You let him set your dinner on the counter and stand behind you while you sat. You let him feed you with your own hand. You let him feed himself too.
You let him leave the dishes unwashed. You would get to them later. You always did. You let him take you to your bedroom. You let his hands wander under your shirt, his touch cool on your skin. You let him kiss the back of your neck as his hands settled onto your hips. You let him spin you around slowly, like you were dancing to music only the two of you could hear. You let him push you back onto the bed, one hand cradling the base of your skull, the other extended to keep his weight off you.
He let you push the blindfold up and uncover his eyes. He let you stare at the soft redness that surrounded that lovely blue. He let you slip your fingers into his hair and hold his gaze. For a moment, just a moment, he let you see.
Then his eyes were closed and his lips were pressed against your collarbone as his hands tugged at your shirt. Nimble fingers unfastened the buttons, leaving you exposed as his lips worked their way down your body. His teeth nipped at your flesh as he pulled your shorts and underwear past your hips. You could feel the back of his tongue dragging down your stomach as his fingers teased your core.
“Right there,” you breathed. A low chuckle rumbled in Satoru’s throat and the vibration sent fire all the way to your toes. Your hands tangled into his hair, your hips bucking, desperate to bring him closer. He wrapped his hands around your thighs, long, slender fingers keeping them apart with bruising force. His tongue lapped at you like he was starving. Sloppy and desperate and perfect.
You could feel his eyes on you. You wanted to look, to see those beautiful blue eyes staring at you again, but you couldn’t. He didn’t want you to, and you could never do anything he didn’t want you to. His fingers rocked into you, scissoring you apart as his tongue continued to work and you couldn’t do anything but throw back your head and claw at the bedding under your fingertips. You struggled to keep your eyes open, barely able to catch glimpses of the beat-up headboard above you, much less the man beneath you.
It wasn’t long before you came undone. It never was. He knew your body almost as well as his own by now. Knew just the right spots to touch, to tease. He would play your body like an instrument and you would do nothing but take it.
White burst behind your eyes. Or maybe in front of them. You couldn’t be sure anymore with his weight pressed on top of you, his lips brushing softly against your ear as your racing heart started to slow, his breath dancing across your skin as the world started to return to focus.
“That’s it,” he murmured. “Pretty girl.” He pressed soft kisses along your jaw. “So good for me.”
“Sa –” you started, but he cut you off with a kiss to your lips. His tongue swiped across your lips and you opened your mouth. He swallowed every sweet sound that escaped you. Something in your chest stuttered when you felt the slight curve of a smile, heard the faintest hint of that warm laugh you used to know so well.
“Sorry baby, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he purred. “What was it you were saying?”
“Sato –” you tried again, but you choked on the last syllable as his fingers pressed into you. You watched, entranced as he pulled back, removing his fingers, and pushed down his waistband in one fluid movement.
He laughed again and you could feel tears pricking at the back of your eyes. You took deep, shaky breaths, desperate not to let them pool on your waterline. Desperate not to let him see.
“One more time,” he murmured, voice low and teasing. “Lemme hear it baby.”
“Satoru!” you cried, clutching desperately at his biceps as he pushed into you, sheathing himself completely in one smooth movement. The sudden stretch burned and tears gathered in your eyes. You tried to blink them away, but when you looked up, searching for him, for his smile, for his gaze, you were met with a shock of white. He wasn’t looking at you. At least, not your face.
One tear made it past. Just one. It slid silently down your cheek and along your jaw, trailing into your hair.
Satoru raised his head and you watched as his gaze followed the trail of the tear. Just for a moment. Then his eyes moved to your lips and he kissed you again. Deeply. His hands wrapped around your forearms and he clung to you like he was afraid to let you go.
You pretended you didn’t notice.
He rocked into you at a steady pace, his tip kept brushing against your sweet spot in a way that made you see stars. Your hips rose to meet his as you clung to him, soft moans escaping your lips with every thrust.
“Doin’ such a good job,” he murmured against your ear. He was getting close; you could tell by the desperation in his movements and the whine in his voice. “That’s it, c’mon, don’t stop.” You rocked your hips faster, feeling your own release start to build. You closed your eyes and slid your hands up to his shoulders, clinging to him as he picked up the pace.
“C’mon baby, look so pretty like this.” His voice was so lovely. You’d always thought it was. You hummed softly, tightening your grip on his shoulders. Sighing at the way his lips brushed against your jaw.
Then, he did something he’d never done before. He told you to open your eyes.
And you did.
And he was looking at you.
Not at the place where your bodies met. Not at the bounce of your breasts as he rocked into you. Not at the blossoming bruise he’d planted on you with his teeth.
You.
He was looking at your face. His eyes were soft and his smile softer still.
“Good girl.” The sweet whisper of his voice drowned out the traffic outside, the hum of the fan you’d forgotten to turn off that morning, the beating of your heart.
“I love you, Satoru,” you breathed.
“I’m sorry,” he replied.
At least, you thought he did. You couldn’t be sure.
Either way, you threaded your fingers through his hair and pulled him close. He buried his face in the crook of your neck and clung to you, his hips never faltering.
“It’s okay,” you murmured, your lips pressed against his hair. “I don’t mind.”
His hips started to stutter and he let out such a pretty moan you thought for a second he must be an angel. He didn’t pull out. You didn’t mind that either.
His body relaxed against you and you let out a quiet laugh. His breathing was already starting to even out.
You pushed him off you and clambered out of the bed, stumbling towards the bathroom to clean yourself up. You returned with a wet washcloth and helped clean Satoru too, laughing quietly to yourself when you realized the only thing he was still wearing was his socks.
With great difficulty, you managed to get him tucked under the covers. You gathered his clothes and folded them neatly, placing them, along with his blindfold, on the nightstand beside the bed. He would need them in the morning. Long before you woke up.
You slipped on a pair of underwear and an old t-shirt that probably used to belong to Satoru and climbed under the covers.
He whined softly, his hands seeking you as soon as he felt the dip of your weight in the mattress.
Even in his sleep, some part of him was still hungry.
You wrapped your arms around his sleeping form and he sighed softly. You rubbed your thumb over the reddened skin beneath his eyes, soothing the irritation with your touch. His arms snaked around your waist and he pulled you closer, just a little too tight.
You didn’t mind. That’s how it had always been.
You would feed him.
And he would come back.