Rating/Warnings: NC-17 for Nago's usual method of staking his claim.
Summary: Megumi finds out something she probably didn't want to know about Wataru and Nago, and Wataru just ends up with a lot of questions.
AN: This has an awful lot to do with how ridiculously fucking hot this picture is.
“F-fine,” Wataru says, staring at his teacup, squirming under the pressure of Megumi’s questions. “It was fine.”
“You went to the café I told you, right?” Megumi pressed, leaning closer. “It was really romantic, right?”
“It was nice,” Wataru agreed, still staring into his drink. His cheeks turned a bit pink as he added, “Mio-san is nice, too.”
“Ne, ne, ne,” Megumi squealed. “I told you, Mio-chan is the perfect girlfriend for you! You like going on dates, right? We should plan more!”
Megumi chattered on, but the slam of the shop door made Wataru finally look up from his tea, and when he looked over his shoulder, Nago-san was gone from his usual perch. Wataru frowned.
“Megumi-san,” Wataru said, and it was so strange for Wataru to interrupt anybody that Megumi actually stopped talking. “Does Nago-san seem like he’s been acting strangely lately?”
“Him?” Megumi bit down on her spoon, wrinkling her nose. “Stranger than usual?”
“He leaves suddenly, like that.” Wataru glanced at the door again. “He doesn’t give me orders. It’s kind of like…he’s avoiding me, ever since Mio-san..”
“Why do you care anyway?” Megumi demanded, stirring her coffee viciously, but then she looked up at the way Wataru was hemming and hawing. “I mean, what do you even do with that guy?”
Wataru’s cheeks turned scarlet. Megumi dropped her spoon.
“You!” she spluttered. “You and him! You’re…” Megumi suddenly seemed to remember where she was and looked around to make sure no one was listening in before getting up and dashing to sit in the other chair on Wataru’s side of the table. “How could you do that sort of thing with Nago-san!”
Wataru knotted his hands in his lap. “I’m Nago-san’s pupil. He teaches me things. But,” Wataru shook himself a little, “I don’t understand why…”
“Wataru,” Megumi said pityingly, “didn’t you think Nago would be upset that you’re dating Mio-chan when the two of you are…are…” Megumi groped for a word that she could bear to use in conjunction with Nago, “are close?”
Wataru blinked at her. “Why?”
“Wataru!” exclaimed Megumi. “I never thought you’d be the kind of guy who would cheat. You’re in a love triangle!”
“I…” Wataru’s mouth worked for a moment. “I am not! Am I? But I’m not doing the same things with Nago-san that I do with Mio-san at all!” Wataru tilted his head. “And what’s a love triangle?”
“That’s only because you’re all damaged irreparably,” Megumi said with authority, and Wataru hung his head. “Fortunately, Megumi-chan will explain everything to you!”
By the time Wataru managed to escape the café, hours later, a look of horror was etched so deeply onto his face that when he reached his house, Kibat sent him directly into the bath and Tatsulot wondered if they’d have to soak his whole face off to get rid of the lines.
“Um, Nago-san?” Wataru asked.
Nago didn’t answer, although he did give Wataru an icy look from the park bench he was sitting on, but Wataru didn’t shrink away. It had taken Wataru some doing to find Nago in the first place, since Nago was apparently avoiding the coffee shop now. But after two days of Wataru moping around, Shima-san had finally taken pity on him and told him that Nago liked to occasionally mediate in the park when he was in a mood.
Apparently, so far as Wataru could see, meditate meant ‘glare at the ducks,’ but he put it out of his mind for the moment.
“Megumi-san said,” Wataru sped up his voice when Nago’s face darkened at the mention of Megumi’s name, “she said that you were my girlfriend.”
Nago’s face darkened further. “What?” he demanded.
“I told her you were avoiding me,” Wataru continued, staring down at his shoes. “And she said it was because of Mio-san, and I tried to tell her that I don’t do any of the same things with Mio-san as with you, but she said that’s because we’re all damaged and we’re in a love triangle and that you’re jealous because the things you’ve been teaching me makes me your boyfriend.”
Nago continued to stare blackly at Wataru, unmoving, until Wataru seemed to run out of steam and deflated, shoulders slumped.
“Are you mad at me, Nago-san?” he finally asked, voice soft. He went on staring at the ground, until Nago huffed an irritated sigh, and even then only lifted his eyes high enough to peer out through his bangs.
Nago was standing in front of him, arms crossed and staring at him, but his expression wasn’t as murderous as it had been originally, and Wataru lifted his head a little more.
“Let’s go,” Nago finally said, shoving his hands in his pockets and striding off, and Wataru hurried to catch up with him.
“Where—“ Wataru started, but closed his mouth when Nago turned around and gave him a look, eyes hard.
“Am I your guru,” he asked, “or aren’t I?”
Wataru nodded fervently, and Nago turned back around and continued on his way.
Wataru wasn’t terribly shocked when they arrived at his house and Nago strode inside as if he belonged there. Wataru was barely inside the door when Nago slammed it shut behind him and shoved Wataru up against it, Wataru’s shoulders thunking against the wood.
He swallowed hard at the look in Nago’s eyes, sharp and calculating, like he could see right through Wataru, but it wasn’t cold. Nago’s gaze was all heat, skimming over Wataru’s skin like the promise of Nago’s fingers, working under Wataru’s clothes and making all the little hairs on his body raise as Nago reached up to flip the lock on the door beside Wataru.
Nago leaned in to crush his mouth against Wataru’s, the kiss thorough, breath-taking. Wataru lifted a hand to grope for Nago’s shoulder, but Nago caught his wrist and shoved that against the door too. His other hand moved from the lock to squeeze Wataru’s shoulder, Nago’s thumb digging into Wataru’s collarbone until Wataru made a soft noise into Nago’s mouth.
Nago pulled back just far enough to look Wataru over some more, and Wataru didn’t bother trying to hold back the whimper as he ran his tongue over the sting in his bottom lip.
“You do that with Mio-san?” Nago wanted to know, and Wataru shook his head. Nago’s fingers dug into his skin tighter for a moment, then Nago dropped the hand from Wataru’s shoulder and turned to stomp off, his other hand still tight around Wataru’s wrist to drag him along.
Wataru’s heart was still racing by the time they reached his bed, and the way Nago’s fingers brushed over his throat as he undid Wataru’s scarf wasn’t cause for it to slow. Nago took his time pulling off the rest of Wataru’s clothes, and by the time he was through, Wataru’s skin prickled from all the half-touches.
Nago gave a little grunt of surprise when Wataru stepped forward and wrapped arms around Nago’s chest. The roughness of Nago’s shirt against his bare skin wasn’t exactly what Wataru was shooting for, but it was better than the tease.
Although not by much. “Nago-san,” Wataru snuck another glance up at Nago’s face through his bangs, “I haven’t done this with Mio-san either.”
“Good,” Nago growled, hands coming up to grip Wataru’s back, and Wataru whined softly at the heat of Nago’s fingers as Nago dragged them in a rough path up Wataru’s spine.
Wataru let Nago do what he wanted, only making soft and encouraging noises as Nago slid his hands possessively over Wataru. Eventually Nago tugged his own shirt off, coaxing another string of hums from Wataru, and pushed Wataru down onto his bed.
Giving another soft growl that made the hairs on the back of Wataru’s neck rise, Nago loomed over Wataru and seized his mouth again. Wataru melted into the kiss, not minding at all Nago’s weight laying heavily on him, or the way Nago’s hands tugged roughly in his hair. Eventually Nago let go with one hand to dig around under Wataru’s pillow for the tube he’d stashed there quite a few visits ago.
His breath caught in his throat when Nago shifted to the side and slid his hand between Wataru’s thighs. Nago had always rolled Wataru onto his knees before doing this before, but today he wouldn’t pull his mouth away from Wataru’s long enough for Wataru to suck in a deep breath, much less ask any questions.
It changed the angle as Nago pushed first one finger, then a second one inside Wataru without waiting for Wataru to do much beside clutch at Nago’s upper arms and arch against him. But, also to Wataru’s dazed surprise, then he lingered in the two-finger stage until Wataru was desperate for more.
“Nago-san!” Wataru pulled away from Nago’s mouth, and when Nago leaned forward to capture him again, he hid his face against Nago’s shoulder, gasping for breath. “Please, Nago-san.”
“Please what?” Nago asked, only the low growl of his voice making it any different than when he ordered a coffee from the café.
“Please, I…I…” Wataru’s face turned hot as he tried to stutter out what Nago-san wanted to hear. “Nago-san, I c-can’t, just, a-ah!”
Wataru cut himself off with a long moan as Nago slid in a third finger, squeezing his eyes shut and pushing against Nago’s hand.
Then Nago pulled his fingers out suddenly, and Wataru whined and opened his eyes. He watched as Nago sat up enough to toss his own pants aside and slicked his cock with a few rough strokes, Nago’s eyes never leaving Wataru’s.
When Wataru started to roll himself over, Nago stopped him with a hand on his hip, fingers digging into Wataru’s skin.
“I’ll tell you,” Nago said, “when I want you to move.”
“N-Nago-san?” Wataru asked, voice scratchy. He moaned softly when Nago tightened his fingers.
“Aren’t you my pupil?” Nago asked silkily, and Wataru shut his mouth and nodded, shivering at the smirk that appeared on Nago’s face.
Wataru twisted his fingers in his sheets as Nago pushed inside him, slow but unforgiving, making Wataru gasp at the burn of it. When he was far enough in to do so, Nago curved his own back far enough to kiss Wataru, swallowing his noises.
The kiss turned messy as Nago started to move in earnest, Wataru’s head spinning from the lack of oxygen as well as the new angle of Nago’s thrusts. When Nago released Wataru’s mouth and sat back for better leverage, Wataru threw his head back in a long moan.
Nago wrapped a hand around Wataru’s cock and squeezed; Wataru planted his heels in the mattress to shove up into the touch, and both of them cried out as Wataru tensed and came, trembling and finally collapsing in a limp heap.
He moaned weakly as Nago hitched up Wataru’s hips and thrust hard and fast, then came as well, his hands tight enough to leave marks on Wataru’s skin.
Nago pulled out and stretched out alongside Wataru on his stomach like a cat in the sun, the size of the bed pressing them together from shoulder to hip. Wataru stared at the ceiling of the niche as he caught his breath, the backs of his thighs and the reddening bruises on his skin starting to ache dully.
“Nago-san?” he asked after a while, and Nago grunted, his face buried in the blankets. “Is what I do with you really the same as what I do with Mio-san?”
“Stop listening to that idiotic woman,” Nago answered, and Wataru picked up Nago’s arm and tugged it over his waist, then snuggled closer to hide his grin against Nago’s shoulder.