Chapter Text
i. but.
He was holding one of those… oh. Uh. A red solo cup. Just like the one, you know, you’ve seen movies. It was just like that. Hanging around in a corner, alone, in a crowd of strangers, classmates, rivals, in spirit, people he detested to his very core. The Petit Bourgeoisie. The elite group of people who didn’t know that the Actual Elite™ (given the chance) would not hesitate to spit on them.
He didn’t care much for them either, and he would also spit on them, given the chance.
A couple— or two friends? two strangers? People, of whatever status they believed themselves to be, danced near him. A little too close for comfort, really.
Oh, very much too close for comfort, he realized, as one of them began stumbling backward, accidentally pushed by the other.
But it was too late to move. The woman’s back collided against his arm, splashing his drink all over his sweater vest. He didn’t even know what the fuck this liquid was, but now it was ruining expensive fucking cashmere.
He took a sip of whatever was in his cup and swallowed bitterly. He was a senior in college. He was allowed to be bitter.
“I’m sorry,” the woman apologized.
He pushed his glasses up on his nose. “Don’t worry about it.”
“There’s a laundromat nearby. I passed it on my way here, but I don’t remember where exactly.” She reached into a crossbody bag and handed him some pocket change. Probably just enough for one cycle.
“You don’t have to,” he said. He meant it. He was carrying more money on him right now than she would probably ever see in a week’s check.
“No, please. I should’ve been watching.”
“I insist.” He took another swig of what was left in his cup. “I need directions more than anything.”
“Hiraki’s probably busy hosting. One of my psych classmates has an apartment in this neighborhood. Do you know Takuto Maruki?”
Takuto Maruki? Campus heartthrob, Takuto Maruki? Takuto Maruki who blew in from out of fucking nowhere with some stupid sob story about his sick aunt on some island and the beautiful girlfriend he had to leave behind in order to pursue his dreams of becoming a psychologist? That Takuto Maruki?
Yes. He fucking knew Takuto Maruki.
He made an affirmative grunt, and the girl perked a smile at that.
“Come on, I’ll introduce you. He’ll walk you over.” She nodded to her friend and headed for the den. “I’m Isako Toriumi, by the way,” she said over her shoulder.
“Tohru Adachi,” he introduced himself, if only because he’d rather her introduce him to Maruki than have to do it himself. Just felt more detached that way. Now, he’d have at least one degree of separation.
In the dimly lit den, a few intellectual types gathered to philosophize over… well, fuck-all, if Tohru were being completely honest with himself. He did enjoy a good session of absolute masturbatory nonsense as much as the next guy, but some of those next guys really fucking pissed him off. It seemed all they were put on this earth to do was play devil’s advocate and make Socratic leap after Socratic leap… then have the nerve to get all huffy when someone else did the same.
Those were the kinds of guys sprawled across the den. They leaned against bookshelves, took up space on and around the steps, laid on each other on the chaise, and the king of them all, it seemed, sat in a velvet wing chair, legs crossed and feet propped on an ottoman. Who else would that king be but man of the hour, Takuto Maruki.
Oh how Tohru already hated his fucking guts. His windswept brown hair, the thick black glasses that shielded his doe brown eyes from the evils of the world, the tucked in teal button-up with the FUCKING OPEN NECK? it just SCREAMED, “LOOK AT HOW HARD I’M PRETENDING I’M NOT INTELLIGENT! I’M JUST SO CHILL! I’M JUST SOOOOO LAIDBACK.”
Pretentious asshole.
Oh how Tohru wanted so badly to pull him up by his shirt collar, yank him out of that chair, and just—
Tohru shook his head. He only had to bear with Maruki for tonight.
Toriumi knocked gently above the wall’s wainscoting. “Boys… if I could please have Takuto for just a second…”
A couple of the guys turned their attention back to Maruki, although the majority were still trained on Toriumi for whatever reason. Just judging by her firm walk and her matter-of-fact tone, Tohru thought she definitely had to have been a student council president in high school. She probably was council president at Touhou, too, but he didn’t pay enough attention to campus politics to make a solid judgment call on it.
Maruki swung his legs over the ottoman and pushed himself up out of the chair. He had a dumbass smile plastered on his lips right above some kind of peach fuzz he was probably proud to call a beard.
As if parting the waves of his adoring groupies, he made his way through the other guys to walk up into the hallway. He towered over Toriumi… and since she was the same height as Tohru, well… Tohru just crossed his arms and tried not to look straight ahead. If he did, he would’ve only gotten an eyeful of Maruki’s chin.
Maruki leaned on one foot and shoved his hands in his cargo pockets. “Everything alright, Miss Prez?”
Tohru smiled inwardly at his intuition.
“I bumped into this guy and he spilled his drink,” Toriumi explained. “Do you think you could take him to the laundromat nearby?”
Maruki flashed a smile at Tohru and gave a short chuckle. “You’re in luck. I live right above it.”
Toriumi held a hand out. “You don’t have to leave right now, but just—“
“It’s cashmere,” Tohru hotly interrupted. He could feel the mystery drink just staining the fabric deeper and deeper the longer they stayed there.
“I don’t mind at all, Isako. I was just heading out, anyway. Promise,” Maruki said.
He was LYING through his TEETH. Tohru knew how to spot a liar from a mile away. Growing up in the Adachi household featured an older sister who had a long distance relationship with the truth, a mother who smiled-smiled-smiled through a crashing and burning relationship, and a father who thought it was only natural to have two (at last count) other women on the side, and none of the three ever the wiser.
So, yes, Maruki was lying. Tohru knew it for a fact. Maruki fucking loved all that attention he was getting. He was just soaking in it like a scaly lizard in the desert sun.
And Tohru had to laugh, really he did. Maybe not out loud, but an inward chuckle at the very least. After all, Maruki didn’t even seem the type to take anyone to bed no matter how desperate they were for him. He was, undoubtedly, a “wait until marriage” boy you could take home to your mother. Wouldn’t even have to leave the bedroom door open!
“Thank you, Takuto.” Toriumi gave him a short bow. “I’ll catch up later.”
With a short wave, she disappeared back into the living room turned dance hall.
Maruki watched after her until she was no longer in sight. Then, his eyes fell on Tohru.
“You’re probably wondering how I know Isako,” Maruki said idly. When Tohru didn’t respond (because he wasn’t wondering), Maruki continued, “I’m a student representative on the psych program committee, and she’s president of the student affairs committee despite being a student herself. So, as you might be able to tell, our paths cross quite a bit.”
“Oh,” Tohru said, but only to progress the conversation in a direction where they could hopefully be leaving right about now.
“So, what’d you say your name was?” Maruki asked.
Tohru adjusted his glasses. “I didn’t.”
“Excuse me?”
“I didn’t say.”
With a genuinely hurt look, Maruki furrowed his brow. “Oh. Sorry.”
Ok. Maybe Tohru was being a bit harsh.
“Nothing to be sorry about.” He put his hands on his hips and looked impatiently up at Maruki. “Can we go to the laundromat now?”
“That’s probably gonna shrink in the wash,” Maruki pointed out with a physical point and everything.
Tohru shrugged. “I’m willing to risk it.”
🧺
“You still haven’t told me your name.”
Tohru released his grip on his sweater vest to focus all of his attention and power into his glare at Maruki.
Maruki gave a sheepish chuckle. “Sorry, it’s just…” He shrugged dumbly. “You’re getting ready to strip in front of me, and I don’t even know who you are.”
“Did it ever occur to you that I was trying to keep it that way?” Tohru asked bluntly.
“Sure, it crossed my mind. Still, I’m incredibly curious now.” He leaned close and raised a brow. “You are a Touhou student, right?”
Tohru ignored him to put his energy into pulling his sweater vest over his head. He balled it up and tossed it into the washing machine. He nearly shut the lid when Maruki grabbed his wrist. Tohru gave him the death sentence in the form of a glare.
Maruki pointed at Tohru’s undershirt. “It stained through.”
Given this information, Tohru looked down. Ah. It certainly did, didn’t it? Tohru ought to have given Maruki a cookie for being keen enough to spot it.
Tohru went to unbutton the first clasp and stopped abruptly. He gave Maruki a side eye. “I’m not sure how comfortable I am taking off all of my clothes in front of you.”
Maruki chuckled. “It’s hardly all your clothes. And, anyway, you could stand to make it less awkward by telling me your name.”
“That would make it more awkward.” Tohru said down at his chest as he unbuttoned his shirt anyway. He couldn’t help but feel Maruki’s eyes follow every movement of his fingers.
Well, Tohru tossed that feeling away along with the shirt in the washing machine and promptly closed the lid.
So now his chest was exposed. Right in front of god and everybody. Tohru leaned over the washing machine, his absolutely undefined chest and abdomen resting against the shaking appliance. He didn’t need Maruki to comment on how much he really needed to work out. Not tonight. Not ever.
Instead, he was subjected to small talk in the form of, “So, um… what are you majoring in?”
“Criminal psychology.” Tohru didn’t bother asking Maruki in return. Maruki was probably the kind of guy who couldn’t shut the fuck up about his major. That’s why that was the first question out of his mouth, after all.
“Oh, what a coincidence! You’re into psychology, too, huh? I’m majoring in clinical psychology though. I’m hoping to get into the psychiatry track. I’m sort of double majoring with pre-med. Touhou’s not really the place for it, but I’m making do. I just think it’s so interesting. I’m completely enamored with how the brain works.”
It was official. Tohru wanted to study Maruki in a lab. Just to beat him to the punch, more than anything. Tohru wouldn’t be caught dead on Maruki’s chaise. That was probably something Maruki was into, though.
As if on cue, Maruki nodded. “Yep. Psychology is my passion. But, you know, it’s funny. There was a time when I myself was majoring in criminal psychology. It was at another, much smaller college— you wouldn’t know it. I was going through a really hard time with my aunt… she’s the only string left connecting me to my mother’s family, and… she became very sick. On top of that, my sister got into a fight with her aunt and uncle— our guardians— and… to keep a long story short, I had to drop out. Touhou, esteemed as it is, didn’t take my credits. So,” he sighed, finally, and with an oddly contented smile, “now I’m starting over.”
Blah blah blah sob story!!!! feel bad for me!!!!!! Life is so unfair!!
Wait.
What was that about majoring in criminal psychology?
“Did they, like, let you keep all your papers and stuff?” Tohru stumbled over his words. Stupid. Dolt. Idiot. So obvious.
“Well, I still have the copies on my laptop. From what I understand, the curriculums here are similar, but Touhou’s slightly more prestigious, so…” Maruki shrugged. “I’m making do, like I said.”
Apparently not that obvious.
“What year are you in?” Tohru asked, not that he cared.
“Freshman here. I’m twenty-four.”
“Twenty-one. Senior.”
“I should be your senior,” Maruki laughed as if he just made the funniest fucking joke on the face of the earth. Tohru gave him credit for trying at least.
Maruki quieted down soon enough. The atmosphere was probably sinking in now.
Here were two college students, sat at the laundromat beneath a couple stories of apartments, beneath millions, billions, and probably more stars. But who was counting? The black of night made it impossible to see through the windows. That, and the phosphorescent bright white lights that near blinded Tohru, forcing his head under the shelter of his bare arms. He chose the washing machine at the very back of the laundromat, not that it mattered— it was a ghost town. But… not even ghosts were washing the sheets they hid beneath. This was the only washing machine moving and shaking, operating on and surely fueled purely by Tohru’s embarrassment. It was electric.
In a way, Tohru had to admit he was jealous. Just a little bit. His parents refused to pay for an off-campus apartment, and so he was forced to live in the dorms packed with all the other stupid idiots trapped on campus. Judging by the family situation, Maruki probably worked for the apartment he had. Living above all this noise probably came cheap, or at the least, affordable compared to most others.
Moved by the jagged rumble of the washing machine, an idea wriggled its way into Tohru’s brain.
If Tohru could just get close to Maruki, all of Maruki’s things could slowly become Tohru’s things… the old homework… the apartment… maybe even all the eyes on him…
It was almost too perfect.
A smile, wicked and dastardly, snaked up Tohru’s cheeks.
“So, Maruki, d’ya have a roommate?” he asked, giving the brunette a flick of his brows and a half-lidded gaze.
Maruki glanced upward as if reminding himself of what he had to go home to. “No. I can afford it by myself. It’s not much, but working at the Big Bang Burger after school is pretty honest work, I gotta say.”
“If I ever… y’know had an accident like this again… instead of using the school laundromat… I might just…” Tohru trailed off, hoping Maruki would get what he was insinuating.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind. Not like I own these things.” Maruki gently kicked the dryer a couple times as if to prove his point.
Now the awkward silence returned. Tohru was getting used to the gentle hum and vibration against his skin. He couldn’t wait, though, for the warmth of the dryer.
Tired of standing, or perhaps just eager for a throne upon which he could look down on Tohru, Maruki took a seat on the dryer to the left of Tohru. Now, Tohru had a solid side view of Maruki’s ass. Wow. Just what he wanted.
Kicking his legs, Maruki stared up at the ceiling. It was missing a couple panels, and the aluminum coiling of the heating unit was visible beneath. Mold gathered at the corner of each tile, and some tiles were closer to falling out of the ceiling than others. Tohru wondered if Maruki’s apartment was in a similar state of disrepair. Maybe it wouldn’t be so worth it to get in his circle after all.
But Tohru’d be damned if he didn’t at least get a foot in the door to scope out the place.
“You said you had a sister?” he tried his hand at small talk this time.
“Yeah. Older. We, uh… we’re not close. She’s kind of like, um…” Maruki squinted, trying to find the words. He drummed his fingers on the dryer. “Ever since our parents died… everyone’s kind of described her as a ‘Living Doll.’ To be honest, part of why I’m so interested in psychology is, well… I just want to know what made her retreat into her shell like that.”
“I get that,” Tohru nodded. “I feel bad, though. I’m just into criminal psych so I can become a detective and get a gun. I always thought that was really cool. But, y’know, I’d rather be behind the scenes than right out there in the thick of things.”
“Better to have a dumb reason than a serious one,” Maruki sighed.
“Now I see why those philosophy guys were treating you like a king.”
Did he just say that out loud…
Maruki seemed confused at first. “Hmm? Oh. Them. Yeah. They didn’t really impress me.” (Of course they didn’t, Your Highness.) “I think they just wanted to hear themselves talk and have me validate their opinions. But, just because I’m older doesn’t mean I know everything.”
(Or anything.)
“True.” Tohru buried his head again. So he wasn’t entirely oblivious. That was good to know.
“Oh, and by the way, I know you probably think I’m full of myself because of all that, but… really, I just stumbled into that room. I’m not really popular or anything.” Maruki laughed awkwardly, waving a hand downward.
Okay. Yeah, no, he was entirely oblivious. If he didn’t see the way girls swooned over him, watched the way he walked to class, talked about him as if they could tear him up on the spot… ugh, it made Tohru gag, but he wasn’t blind to it. Oh how he wished he were…
“I promise I’m just a totally normal guy. Anyway, what about you? Any family?” Maruki asked, probably out of courtesy.
“I’ve got an older sister, too. She’s… um… she’s an idol, but she hasn’t made it big yet,” Tohru said, because that’s what Miyu told him in the letter she left when she ran away at eighteen to pursue her dreams. She would be twenty-seven now. He hoped she made some progress.
“That’s nice,” Maruki commented.
“Mm.”
The washing machine came to a halt. Tohru lifted the lid and dove in after his sweater vest and shirt. The stains looked to be well faded if not completely gone from both of them. They were so cold and wet, damp and limp in his hands.
The sweater was soft, at least, and when he rubbed his thumb against the hem, if he wasn’t mistaken, it was beginning to fray slightly. Only made sense. He pretty much felt born in this thing, he wore it so much. Maybe it was good that it had been stained, maybe he needed a change of pace, however small.
Robotic in his form, he moved to the dryer Maruki wasn’t occupying and laid the clothes in as if tucking them away in some careful storage. Now, with a washing machine between them, Tohru felt comfortable taking a seat upon the moving dryer.
Maruki seemed to have other plans, scooting onto the washing machine to close the distance.
“Those are definitely gonna shrink,” Maruki reminded Tohru with the air of a know-it-all, chomping at the bit to prove just how much he knew.
“They’re big on me already. I’ll manage,” Tohru replied.
Maruki chuckled. His eyes flicked up and down Tohru’s torso. “Yeah, you are pretty small.”
And what, exactly, was he supposed to say to that? Tohru’s face burned. He was perfectly sized, thank you very much.
Maruki’s eyes suddenly training themselves on Tohru, reminded him that he was currently shirtless. He felt his jaw drop and his glasses slip down the bridge of his nose. Quickly, he pushed them back up and he swallowed, thickly, everything in his mind set ablaze.
And, just to cover his bases and to make it perfectly clear that he was not there to be judged, he crossed his arms over his lack of pecs. If he had another set of arms, he would have crossed his arms over his lack of abdominal muscles. His stomach, as soft as it was, happened to be the least of the two worries.
If Maruki noticed this sudden change in posture and tension, he didn’t comment, exactly, but the way he retracted his fingers into his palms and he bit his lip… it seemed the sudden shyness had reverberated off of the machinery and settled into Maruki’s slinking shoulders.
“Do you believe that people are drawn to each other for a reason? Like some kind of… I don't know… psychological gravity? Was it natural that you and I were brought together? Was it destined to happen? Or was this just a coincidence?”
Tohru definitely could’ve gone the rest of the year without seeing Maruki. In fact, graduation now could not come soon enough. However, the prospect of sneaking his way into Maruki’s apartment and all the peace and quiet away from campus certainly flipped his answer to Maruki’s question. That, and the homework. That sweet, sweet homework…
“Do you have a girlfriend?” Maruki asked, quickly moving past Tohru’s silence on the matter.
Tohru considered lying, but he couldn’t tell when Maruki chose to be and chose not be completely oblivious, so, “No,” he answered.
“Me either. I just don’t have time,” Maruki smiled at the wall as if he’d made some sort of peace with it long ago.
Tohru couldn’t help but wonder about the girl he left behind. Must have been some girl if that was the big thing everyone knew about him. And, if Maruki did absolutely nothing to rectify his singlehood, was he still hung up on her? Some girl.
“Same here. It’s just too much trouble.” Tohru rubbed the back of his neck and looked up. “Although… something casual wouldn’t be too bad.”
“Right. Something casual,” Maruki mumbled as if he were taking serious note of the response.
His eyes fell over Tohru, and, they fell with a weird half-lidded disinterest that somehow conveyed extreme interest. His lip parted slightly in only a way a model could manage to make look hot instead of awkward. And it was weird, really, how Tohru hadn’t considered just how feminine and nonthreatening Maruki’s persona certainly was. It was no wonder the girls were after him.
The glasses were nerdy, sure, but the button up and cargo pants— not to mention the socks and sandals— said “dork” more than anything, especially the way he absentmindedly kicked them. That was an important distinction. His curly brown hair was simply generally well-kempt rather than fussed over for hours. Though, it was certainly styled with more effort than Tohru put into himself. It curled, to the left, just the right way.
Maruki was a perfectly cultivated man.
And, up close, Tohru now noticed the fading freckles that smattered his face. They were dotted down his arms, too, and considering that, they probably fell down his back as well. Tohru absently wondered if any girl had ever gotten close enough to see this, and if they had, would they swoon over this, too? Would they do something so stupidly romantic as trying to count them all? Kiss each one? Run their fingers down his arms? What the fuck was he even saying at this point. Of course those saps would.
“You know, I wouldn’t have just walked anyone to the laundromat, let alone stay with them. You’re perfectly capable of washing your own clothes,” Maruki distantly acknowledged.
Ducking his head, Tohru furrowed his brow. “Then… why me?”
“You just looked lonely.” Maruki tilted his head, keeping a kind smile. “You’re not quite a Living Doll, but… you’re missing something, aren’t you?”
Of all the…
“What are you…”
“You don’t fit in because you don’t want to fit in, right? I’ve seen you around campus. You look at people with so much disdain,” Maruki analyzed.
Tohru grimaced. “I think you’re a little off-track, here, pal.”
Maruki shook his head and held out his hands. Started motioning. He was so handsy, so animated when he spoke. How did Tohru not notice before? Was he just not looking? So handsy.
“I disagree,” a sharp flick of his wrist, “I think I’m right on track. In fact, I think there was a moment, back at Hiraki’s party, where you thought you’d rather be anywhere else but there. But you were there. Why?”
Tohru shrugged with a smirk. “I was bored.”
“‘Bored…’” Maruki repeated at the wall as if it were just the most interesting response in the world. His smile was nearly infectious. Tohru wondered how someone could be so amused with one word. “Are you bored right now?”
That was an uncomfortable question. He was a good liar, but Maruki probably knew more than he was letting on. Tohru was really dancing around on eggshells here, and the jig was nearly up.
Maruki closed his eyes and pressed a finger against the bridge of his glasses. He thought about something intangible for some time until finally, he sighed, and he asked, “Would you mind indulging me in something?”
Tohru’s heart began beating out of his chest, but he wasn’t sure if it was the fear of getting caught in a web of lies, or the anticipation of getting caught in the web of Maruki’s life.
Nevertheless, he nodded, and prepared himself for the next line of questioning.
But instead of issuing those, Maruki dragged his left leg up onto the washing machine and tilted himself so he could face Tohru. He leaned in, slightly, and Tohru could smell something undeniably sweet but not exactly perfume-y, and neither was it a complete musk. Maruki seemed to hit the middle of the fragrance binary with expert precision. He was some sort of perfectly balanced human being. Perfect for women. Probably perfect for men if he swung that way. He was
perfect,
and that’s why Tohru was so incredibly, totally, and undeniably jealous of him.
In fact, his neck was starting to heat up. He felt taunted, teased by the closing distance. Was this some kind of play at intimidation? To what end? Maruki had everything and Tohru had nothing. What? Did he want to take the clothes off his back? All he had to do was reach into the dryer and just grab them. They were right there.
Tohru jumped slightly without understanding why until his eyes trailed Maruki’s right arm, and found his hand grasping his thigh, wrinkling the fabric. Tohru felt his chest tighten, and he found himself afraid of fucking up, but fucking up what? He closed his eyes tightly and listened only to the hum of the dryer and Maruki’s unsteady breath. He felt something small, something cold, one after another, press into his shoulderblade— the fingers of Maruki’s left hand, it seemed, as his palm came to rest gently against him, and Tohru felt like he could finally exhale as he acclimated to the touch. He opened his eyes to see Maruki, doe brown eyes focused on his own, and unyielding in information.
So, by Tohru’s skills of deduction, Maruki was using him to prop himself up. Why? Was he about to fall? Tohru would’ve just laughed.
But, Maruki never fell. Instead, he closed his eyes, tilted his head, and leaned into Tohru. He took advantage of Tohru’s parted lips, closing his own around them.
Tohru jerked back on instinct. This wasn’t right. He didn’t do this. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not with another guy. Sure, he’d always enjoyed walking with his sister around the red light district of Shinjuku, but that was as far as his experience went. That was only gawking. This… this was new.
Maruki retracted his hands as if he’d been burned. Rightly so. He looked as if he were caught with his hand in the cookie jar, leaning just far enough away to study Tohru’s expression.
Despite the warmth of the dryer beneath Tohru, he felt cold now. Maruki was… well, he was warm, actually. And without his sweater it was a little chilly.
“Can we…”
Tohru stopped abruptly, unable to believe he would even ask this. But… he was cold. He was unbearably cold. It was only a kiss… only a brush of lips only… Maruki.
“… can we do that again?” Tohru asked softly.
Maruki obliged, closing the distance between their lips once more, this time, snaking his left hand up Tohru’s shoulder, his neck, and threading his fingers through Tohru’s hair, gripping tight, bracing himself on Tohru’s thigh as he pressed his lips against Tohru’s in a crushing, obliterating smother. Over and over they came together, came apart, and Tohru chased Maruki upward as Maruki arced over Tohru.
Tohru grasped where he could as Maruki continued to domineer over his mouth, moving his hands from Maruki’s forearms to his shoulders to his chin in some kind of strange beholding, until finally settling for the unbuttoned collar of his shirt, pulling him in, into himself, only himself. And once Tohru had him there, once Maruki threw his knee onto Tohru’s to pin him there, pin him as his, Tohru threw his arm around Maruki’s neck to remind him of just the same.
Somehow their glasses never clacked against each other— not even once— and Tohru was grateful for it. Maruki knew how to kiss him just right. It made Tohru wonder how often? How often had Maruki done this? With who? With who? Who? Who that wasn’t him?
If it truly were no one, then it was a winning feeling. He won against all those other girls frothing at the mouth just to get a hand on Maruki, much less his hand on them. Tohru came out victorious in a contest he wasn’t even competing in. All in a day’s work of being an underachiever watching from the shadows.
Maruki licked at Tohru’s lips, beckoning them fully open. He sucked at Tohru’s tongue, moaning as he came away. He then latched onto Tohru’s neck, now fully all over him to an inseparable degree. He sucked at the supple flesh there, fully intent on leaving a sore. He rubbed Tohru’s thigh and tightened his grip on his hair. Maruki scraped his canines against Tohru’s neck, eliciting a soft whine from Tohru. Then, he peppered him with kisses as if to make it better.
“Adachi… Tohru Adachi…” Tohru breathed.
“Hm?” Maruki hummed against Tohru’s neck, absentmindedly rubbing his thigh.
“That’s— that’s my name,” Tohru managed.
“Tohru Adachi…” Maruki smiled against him. “I like that. Adachi…” he murmured as if testing it out, squeezing Tohru’s abdomen as he did so.
That sent a shiver down Tohru’s spine and a jolt to his dick. Tohru moved his hand toward his pelvis, but it only hovered there. How awkward would it have been if he really got hard just from a couple minutes of getting hot and heavy?
Apparently not as awkward as he thought. Maruki picked up on this, lacing his fingers into Tohru’s and guiding his hand down and around his cock. Tohru naturally bucked up into the touch, gasping at the contact. The silent gesture of allowing Tohru room for his own pleasure… it was subtle, and it was nice.
Maruki latched onto Tohru’s lips once more as he rubbed circles around Tohru’s cock. After all Tohru’s muffled moans, he relented with his kisses, opting just to rest his forehead against Tohru’s and taking immense pleasure in the gasps he was eliciting if his sunshiney smile was anything to go by.
Tohru squeezed his eyes shut, trying to resist his desire to release all of the pent up moans in his chest. He was just so totally unable to believe that Maruki— Maruki of all people! —could be the one actually getting him close right now and in the middle of a goddamn laundromat of all places! The blood just drained from his head, pooling in his groin. The warmth and vibration of the dryer beneath him was just the cherry on top. For once in his life, he was on cloud nine.
“Is this good for you?” Maruki asked, breath hot against Tohru’s cheek. He leaned toward Tohru’s ear. “Do you like this?” he asked, even quieter.
Tohru could barely find the words, managing a choked but euphoric “yes,” and some kind of groan fell out of his mouth as Maruki pressed both of their hands down on Tohru’s cock.
He buried his nose in Tohru’s shoulder, pressing a sweltering kiss there before coming up for air, cheek to cheek again. “No one’s ever done this for you, have they?”
No, they hadn’t. But Tohru had never gotten far enough exactly to know if they would. He’d always found some excuse to stop right before all the heavy petting.
[“My dorm’s kind of messy.” (He was a neat freak.)
“I’m really tired.” (He just had seven shots of espresso in the last hour. He binge-watched Novel Gospel Revelation after she left.)
“It’s not you, it’s me.” (It was her. It was always her.)]
Not that any of the girls he’d been with were ever interested in servicing him so much as getting serviced. And he was never interested in doing work for someone else. Ask not what you can do for your partner; ask what your partner can do for you! and… all that jazz.
It was a blithe sort of selfishness, and Tohru wasn’t hesitant to admit that to himself.
“You have such a nice cadence when you moan,” Maruki whispered. “I wonder if this is an erogenous zone for you…”
Maruki took Tohru’s earlobe between his lips and began to nibble. Tohru had no idea how that could be so hot, but the fact that his throat bobbed and his mouth opened to groan not of his own accord meant it was definitely doing something for him.
He was getting harder by the minute, but not exactly full enough to burst. Absentmindedly, he wondered how Maruki was faring in that regard. He was so used to putting in the initiative that being on the receiving end made his brain go a little foggy. He just wanted to ride the waves of euphoria, forget about the other person. Just let them do their magic and leave him all fucked out.
Suddenly, the shaking beneath Tohru stopped. The warmth began to dissipate. He opened his eyes as if waking up first thing in the morning. Maruki must have noticed too, as he languidly pulled away from Tohru’s ear and looked down.
“I think your clothes are done,” he muttered hollowly.
And that meant, surely, that their time here was spent. All that time and conversation he’d put into Maruki were fully used up just as the yen had been for the wash and dry.
Maruki hopped off of the washing machine and held a hand out to guide Tohru down just a little more gently. Tohru was hesitant in taking his hand, and rightly so. Things were getting good. Why stop now for some clothes that could wait all night if they had to?
But, all good things came to an end. Tohru took Maruki’s hand. He crouched to grab his clothes from the spin.
Tohru’s fingertips drifted around the circle of the door, and it came away so easily that he had to step back. Gingerly, he placed his hands on the fresh cashmere. He let his fingers sink into the warm folds of the fabric, and his forehead clunked against the dryer. He swallowed bitterly. A hand brushed his shoulder.
“Hey,” Maruki said behind him. “Are you done? Are you satisfied? With just this?” His voice, disembodied as it was, felt like the devil on his shoulder.
And Tohru was more than happy to allow himself the sweet indulgence.
He was ecstatic, even.
But he did well not to show it. Tohru closed the dryer door, stood from his crouch, and turned around. His eyes pored over Maruki’s appearance. His previously neat hair was mussed up from rubbing foreheads, his face was flush, and his lips were slightly reddened and parted as he panted. He looked as if he’d been through a warzone, shirt half untucked and everything. Of course, he was also very noticeably hard, betrayed by the fabric of his thick cargo pants.
“Can I please just have you? Even if it’s just for tonight?” Maruki’s voice was empty but desperate, as if he believed an affirmative from Tohru was a long shot.
For a moment, Tohru froze. Not for nothing, but Maruki was so hot.
God, he was so hot. God, Tohru wanted to climb all over him. Pound him into the ground. He wanted him to beg.
Beg.
Please, for the love of god, beg. He wanted. He needed to be needed.
“Adachi-san,”
Yes.
“I want you. I need you. Please. Will you let me have you?” Maruki implored.
After a fake moment’s pause, just to watch Maruki struggle against the heaviness between his legs, Tohru nodded in affirmation, and relief washed over Maruki’s face. Tohru almost thought the man might cry.
With a gentle palm, Maruki guided Tohru against the dryer. They were close, a breath away, just sharing the air as Maruki stared down at Tohru’s lips. The gap between them was closed again as Maruki slid his hand up to Tohru’s shoulder and began kissing him once more. After that brief warm-up, he leaned forward, nestling his chin in the crook of Tohru’s neck, holding Tohru’s head with one hand, and propping himself up with the other on top of the dryer.
This pause in action confused Tohru until he felt Maruki’s cock run against his own, separated of course by their layers of clothing. Even still, it sent shockwave after shockwave to his cock, leaving him a groaning mess as Maruki grinded into him.
He felt nearly ready to drool from all this attention. His head tipped back in pure ecstasy as Maruki practically humped him, all huffy and desperate for contact.
One of his hands found purchase again on Tohru’s cock, this time without the shield of Tohru’s own hand.
“Would you like me to…?” Maruki asked, thumbing Tohru’s cock over his pants.
“Yes, please,” Tohru sighed.
Maruki threw a quick look over his shoulder before shakily beginning to unbutton and unzip Tohru’s slacks with one hand. The intensity of his focus on this one task was something to behold. The way he swallowed, knitted his brow… even the corner of his lip twitched as he struggled. Tohru finally took initiative, supplying the second hand needed to make the task easier.
Once his fly was down, Tohru used his hands to cup Maruki’s cheeks and shove their faces together. He wasn’t as delicate as Maruki had been, and he nearly buried their glasses in each other’s faces, but he needed Maruki’s lips on his if for nothing else but to suffocate his inevitable moans.
Maruki pulled Tohru’s pants and boxers down with one fell swoop and his hand clasped onto Tohru’s bared cock like a magnet. Tohru hissed first from the air and then from the contact. He pulled Maruki in, shoving his chin into Maruki’s shoulderblade.
“Fuck, fuck…” Tohru could barely breathe, all the wind swept from his sails as Maruki milked his cock for all it was worth. It felt so much better than doing it himself, and hearing Maruki’s little huffs made him all the more close.
“Are you getting there?” Maruki asked, his own voice desperate for some sort of release.
“Mhm,” Tohru moaned, trying to shove himself deeper into Maruki’s hand.
His cock twitched, and his grip on the back of Maruki’s shirt tightened. His own back arched, and suddenly his breathing became a lot faster as if all the air in the room had disappeared. Maruki sped up his jerks appropriately, grunting in acknowledgement when Tohru threw his other hand around Maruki’s shoulder.
Tohru could feel himself reaching the peak in a way he had never thought imaginable. Instead of climbing the mountain himself, it felt as if he were carried up the whole way. It was a welcome change, and while he would much rather have been on a nice, plush comforter, he had to say— this wasn’t half bad.
“Maruki, I’m— I—“ Tohru strained. He was approaching it at a faster rate than he previously thought. It was right at the head. He could feel himself ready to spill. He needed to warn Maruki, but the words fell out of his mouth, replaced with stuttering breath.
Somehow, Maruki picked up on what he meant by his fragmented words and pushed him back, grabbing his wrists and pinning him down against the top of the dryer. Maruki’s visage suddenly became something far away as he stared blankly down at a Tohru who was clearly coming apart at the seams.
“Wait, Maruki, I— I need to…“ Tohru whined. His cock was twitching, ready to explode if Maruki would just hurry the fuck up…
“I’m right here. Just hold on,” Maruki mumbled.
He briefly let go of Tohru’s hands to undo his own fly, bringing out his cock. Not that Tohru could see it from this angle, but he could certainly feel when the weighty member pressed against his own. And as if that wasn’t enough, Maruki squeezed both of them together like some sort of package deal as he pumped them both mid-shaft to head, down and back, until he worked up a steady rhythm.
The heat and friction between their tangled thighs was more than enough to send Tohru into a high of overstimulated heaven. He needed Maruki all over him, all the time, for the rest of his life. Needed. Him. An all-consuming lust. An overpowering, sweltering libido at his beck and call, for him and him alone.
“You feel so good against me… do you think you can hold out much longer?” Maruki taunted.
Tohru simply whined in response, bucking again as he neared the edge. The pressure was almost too much.
Maruki snaked his hand up Tohru’s wrist and entwined their fingers. “You don’t need to say anything. I’ve got you,” he crooned.
His breath hitched, getting quicker and quicker the faster he pumped. He swallowed thickly and panted hard. His back arched forward, and he nearly buried his nose in Tohru’s chest. His frame shook terribly as his pumping came to a stilted and stuttering closing.
“I’m almost there. It’s like— ngh— I’m so close— Can you feel it? I’m so close— Adachi… Adachi!”
That was all Tohru needed to hear before letting go of everything and allowing himself to release everything. Euphoria overtook him as come spluttered out of his cock like a fountain. Never had he felt like this. His hands had disappointed him for too long now.
Tohru shuddered out a long and breathy whine as he spilled all down Maruki’s cock and hand. Maruki silently followed suit, pleasure washing over his face and limbs seemingly loosened. He took care to direct his cock so that his own pants took the fall rather than Tohru’s. Although, by this point, Tohru wouldn’t have minded another hour in the laundromat with Maruki.
When all was said and done. They were both panting, Tohru laid out across the dryer diagonally, and Maruki propping himself upon it, leaning the other way.
It was a mess.
And it was perfect.