Chapter Text
It's half an hour before closing time when the bell above the entrance dings, announcing a new customer. The diner is empty, has been empty for the past two hours with a recent festival drawing nearly everyone out to the other side of the city, and Megumi contemplates turning around and cussing out whoever decided to show up at this time.
Technically, it's not wrong to want to eat at midnight. Technically, their kitchen is still working and they're obligated to accept any customer, even if they step inside at 11:59 p.m. Foolish of Megumi to think he would get to close early with a perfect excuse to avoid Toji giving him shit for it.
Instead, he sighs quietly, lets the practiced service work smile slip onto his face, and starts the scripted dance.
"Welcome to Golden Waffle, how can I—" he pauses where he's been cleaning a corner booth just to pass time, turning to the new customer mid sentence, and his brain buffers completely. When he reboots a second too late to pass it off as a stutter, his words come out stiff, even when his smile widens on instinct. "How may I assist you?"
The man in front of him isn't the regular he expected—as that is the majority of their visitors—nor is he someone that belongs in a run down family diner tucked in a dark street corner. He doesn't look like he's from here at all, Megumi concludes with a quick, discreet swipe of his figure.
He has at least nine inches on Megumi in height, and shoulders so wide Megumi wonders how he made it through the door at all. His hair is sleek, with grey and white streaks running through a shade of pink Megumi's never seen before. It appears almost silver under the harsh lights of the diner, pushed back stylishly, more fit for a fancy restaurant with bite size portions and a menu that doesn't have anything that even faintly resembles a fry.
He's older too, in his late forties maybe? Or early fifties perhaps, Megumi can't be certain. If he stepped closer maybe he could figure it out.
"…Megumi?" The rumble in his voice is that of a dedicated smoker, and it runs down Megumi's spine so nicely he almost doesn't realise it's not the first time the man has addressed him.
Snapping back to himself, and forcing his eyes to snap away from the thick chest hair protruding from the man's unbuttoned shirt as well, Megumi straightens his spine. Hands behind his back and eyes focused straight ahead.
"I'm sorry, sir." Megumi blinks once, trying to remind himself how words work and forgetting all about common sense in the process. "How do you know my name?"
The man in front of him laughs, a deeply rich sound and a rising chest, and he decides to take a seat two tables away from where Megumi is standing. Throwing his blazer over the back of the shiny red booth, he stretches an arm over the entire length of it and offers Megumi an amused look.
"It's on your name tag, sweetheart."
Megumi's stomach sinks as he fights the urge to outright facepalm at his own stupidity. Great job making a fucking fool of yourself, he thinks bitterly.
For a reason unbeknownst to Megumi, he wants to leave a good first (and only) impression. He needs the man to know he's not a clueless idiot all the time. Quite the opposite, really—Megumi is great at his job. A good conversationalist and a professional through and through, he's just been caught off guard this one time.
"Oh, of course. My apologies again," Megumi huffs out a small, breathy laugh, attempting to cut through the heavy weight of his overthinking. "It's been a long day."
He hopes he appears smooth as he picks up one of the menus he just put away minutes ago, setting it down on the squeaky clean table.
The man doesn't offer the menu a single glance.
"I'm sure." He taps his fingers along the surface of the table, tongue pressed into a cheek and eyes shameless in their ogling. "Do you serve breakfast plates at this hour?"
"We do."
They don't. Not for a lack of material but the sole reason that Toji hates people who come in ordering breakfast food past noon. But Toji isn't in the kitchen tonight, and Megumi can't bring himself to say no to any request this man might have. Again, for reasons he can't even begin to sort out in his own head.
"Would you rather have the toast or meat plate?"
The man holds his gaze for another long moment. Megumi fights the urge to squirm under the deep, amber eyes.
"Meat will do. You've got sausage?"
"Yes, sir. Anything to drink?"
He scratches his beard while thinking, and Megumi follows the movement, hypnotised by the row of silver rings decorating the man's fingers.
"Just water," he says, licking his lips slowly. "And I'd like you to sit with me, so get yourself something as well. It will be on me."
Megumi pauses, looks around the diner, and swallows loudly.
"I can't really…I mean, I'm working and—"
"It's just me in here, and you looked bored when I came in." The man shrugs, smirk stretching lazily on his face. "A little company wouldn't hurt, would it?"
Megumi opens his mouth to offer a different excuse, but he very quickly comes up empty. He really can't find a reason to not talk to the stranger. He wipes his hands on his apron and flashes him another smile, something in him tingling at the obvious interest oozing off the man.
"Yeah, of course not," Megumi says, a little breathless. "I'll be right back."
Using the moment of not being right in front of who might be the finest man he's ever seen in his life, Megumi wrings his hands out behind the cashier desk and makes his way through the curtain separating the kitchen. Kirara is inside and visibly ready to dip for the night, with her apron long gone and ass perched up on one of the counters, fingers moving across her keyboard at the speed of light.
Megumi feels only a little bad when he clears his throat to get her attention.
"Okay, so don't hate me, but I'm gonna need you to make a breakfast meat plate and mix up a strawberry milkshake."
He says it all in one breath, and Kirara's face sours just as quickly.
"Seriously? Who the fuck is coming in at—" she checks her phone, huffing bitterly, "half past eleven at night and asking for a breakfast plate? And better yet, why are you accepting it?"
Megumi sighs, eyes widening when he sees Kirara charging up to go outside and kick the person out herself. He rushes after her, stopping her in front of the curtains with pleading eyes.
"Please, Kirara. Just this once," Megumi whispers, giving her his best puppy dog look. "Take one look outside and you'll see why I said yes."
Kirara rolls her eyes, entirely unconvinced as she sticks her head out to look around the diner, but then she whips back around so hard and fast Megumi knows he's struck checkmate.
"Who the hell is that?"
"Exactly what I thought," Megumi says, biting the inside of his cheek sheepishly. "But he's hot as fuck and asked me to sit with him while he eats for whatever reason so…you wouldn't ruin that for me, would you, Ki?"
"You're so pathetic," Kirara laughs, though she goes to wash her hands right after and Megumi inwardly does a little victory dance. "And so lucky Toji isn't working tonight. Your ass would get beat and that dilf mafia boss of yours would be chased out with a gun."
Megumi's laugh rings out through the kitchen, and he sticks his tongue out to blow a raspberry.
"It's my lucky night."
On his way out he gets rid of his apron, pours a glass of crisp, cold water and ruffles his hair to make it stick out in that messy way he likes. He pulls his low-rise jeans even lower on his hips before opening the curtain.
The man outside is looking out the window when Megumi rounds the cashier counter, taking up more than half the booth in a way that almost seems funny. Really, everything about his presence here looks like it's plucked straight out of a comedy show. He's too polished, too grand in his posture for the sad business that is the Fushiguro establishment. The two don't fit, but Megumi would be damned if he doesn't make them fit. At least for the night.
Those amber eyes are back on him as soon as Megumi slides into the opposite booth, and when he looks at them this up close they almost appear red.
"I've put in your order." Megumi says, setting down the man's water in front of him. He pushes down the urge to fidget nervously once his hands are empty. "Should be out pretty fast…"
He leaves the sentence hanging, and his object of rapidly growing interest catches on.
"Call me Sukuna, sweetheart."
Megumi nods, throat buzzing with a weird kind of giddiness as he prepares himself to say it. Taste the syllables one by one on his tongue.
"Sukuna." Megumi smiles around the name, nice and wide. "Got it."
"Megumi is your real name?" Sukuna asks. "Seems a little…unusual for a boy."
"Ah, well I'm—" Megumi cuts himself off, chuckling awkwardly. He shouldn't be blurting out details about his identity to an absolute stranger now, should he? Kirara would probably hit him across the head if she were here. "Yeah, I get that often. Guess my parents really liked the name."
Sukuna hums, face shifting again into something Megumi can't fully decipher. It looks like curiosity in a way, with the corners of Sukuna's eyes crinkling just the slightest bit as he tilts his head, watching Megumi carefully.
"It suits your pretty face."
At that, Megumi's stomach flutters. He wriggles his hips on the booth subtly to get rid of the feeling somehow. The leather creaks under his weight regardless, and Sukuna's smirk widens another devastating fraction.
"Thank you," Megumi says, and it comes out breathy. He sucks his lips in, wracking his brain for something interesting he can say, anything to not bore Sukuna to death, when Kirara emerges from the kitchen.
She's got Sukuna's plate in one hand, Megumi's milkshake in the other, and that signature sway in her hips Megumi's never managed to crack himself.
"Here you go." Kirara sets their things down, giving Sukuna a once-over while Sukuna just keeps looking at Megumi. "Enjoy your meal," she says, smile unusually mischievous. "I'll clean the kitchen and I'm leaving, Megs. Kin is waiting for me."
Sukuna thanks her and Megumi nods, heart starting to beat faster at the prospect of being left alone with the man.
Kirara is quick to make her departure, and once she's out of Sukuna's line of vision she turns, catching Megumi's eye as she opens her mouth up wide, presses her tongue into a cheek, and brings a hand up to imitate dick sucking motions at him. Megumi schools his expression into something neutral, trying to push away any images of him on his knees in between Sukuna's legs out of his mind. Kirara silently cackles to herself and pulls the curtain shut once again.
Just him and Sukuna. Megumi can deal with that.
"So," he begins, dragging his straw through his milkshake just to do something with his hands. "How come you decided to visit our diner of all places? No offense but…you don't really fit into the box of our usual customers."
Sukuna cuts into a greasy sausage with a small huff.
"It's that obvious I'm not from here?"
Megumi giggles, squinting at Sukuna as he gives him a long, assessing look. "Maybe just a little."
Pushing his thumb and index finger together to emphasise his point, Megumi preens at the chuckle he pulls out of Sukuna.
Even his laugh sounds rich, somehow. Melting like gold down Megumi's spine.
"That's unfortunate, I really tried to fit in." Sukuna takes a bite of his food, nodding in approval. "Guess the suit's giving me away, huh?"
"Mm, maybe," Megumi hums, not pointing out the watch that's visibly worth more than the diner's five year revenue. How Sukuna hadn't gotten robbed in this neighbourhood is beyond him. "The fact that everyone knows everyone around here isn't really helping."
Megumi would've noticed someone like Sukuna, and if he didn't the aunties that love to gossip would, and the news of a new filthy rich neighbour would hit the town like a wildfire.
"Well, to answer your question," Sukuna says, bringing a napkin up to his mouth. The perfect table manners look out of place as well, but Megumi doesn't point it out. "I'm here on a business trip. Spent the whole day trapped in a boring meeting and decided greasy diner food that would make my doctor hate me is the way to go."
Megumi laughs with his straw between his teeth, and Sukuna continues.
"Though, I'll be honest, I didn't expect to be greeted by someone as sweet as yourself."
The thing is, Megumi is used to flirting. He's used to putting on a smile and taking every compliment in stride, knowing just when to laugh and indulge to inflate the tips. It's an art of sorts, part of the job, and he's been working here for so long he's perfected the performance.
However, nothing about the way his belly swoops whenever Sukuna opens his mouth is fabricated. Sukuna walks and speaks and even breathes with a self assurance Megumi's never seen before, like he owns every room he steps into. Like he owns Megumi too, in a way. And Megumi isn't stupid—he sees the way Sukuna's eyes have kept dipping lower ever since he sat down, growing just a little darker every time Megumi bites down on his straw. More out of habit than anything else.
Only this time, when he presses the tip of his tongue into the straw hole, it's deliberate. He holds Sukuna's gaze, knowing exactly how he looks batting his long eyelashes at the man.
"And? Would you say you made the right decision coming here?"
"Oh, sweetheart," Sukuna chuckles, and the warm sound runs down Megumi's body. From the top of his head down to his curling toes. "It's the best decision I've made in a while."
Just as it leaves Sukuna's mouth, a leg finds Megumi's under the table, one muscular thigh slotting against his in a dragged out slide. Megumi's own legs fall open on instinct, and then he clamps them around Sukuna's to keep him where he is. When a flicker of surprise shows on Sukuna's face Megumi feels like he's won the lottery.
If he just dragged his hips to the edge of his booth he could maybe grind against Sukuna's knee. A funny little flutter rushes to his cunt at the thought, but he stays put, wet panties and all.
"How long are you staying in town?"
Another chuckle. Sukuna's eyes narrow ever so slightly. "You're direct, huh?"
Megumi shrugs. "When I know what I want, I am."
"And what is it that you want?"
"Ah," Megumi clicks his tongue, reaching into the playful side of him now that his suspicions have been fully confirmed and he's not imagining the tension pulling tighter and tighter between them. "You first. How long?"
"Three days."
A pity, but Megumi doesn't fret. He'll make use of whatever he gets. Resting his chin in his palm and taking in a deep breath, he flat-out says, "I wanna suck your dick."
This time, Sukuna's laugh is more like a bark. All of his previous ones have been measured, light chuckles Megumi associates with rich men in old movies, but this one is deep, coming straight from Sukuna's belly. Megumi wants to bathe and roll around in the harmony of it.
Sukuna runs a palm over his beard again—a habit, maybe—and takes another bite of his food.
It feels intentional. Because Megumi has to just wait and watch the muscle in Sukuna's jaw move while he chews, after he's removed the pin off a grenade and placed it between them so eagerly. Seconds tick away in Megumi's ears, and they feel like minutes as he waits and waits and then—
"Okay," Sukuna says simply. "You can suck my dick."
It's the way Sukuna makes it sound, like Megumi was asking for permission instead of voicing his desires. It drives him up the wall, he just isn't certain if it's a good or bad thing.
A fraction of the readiness he felt sizzles away, and Megumi comes to a halt again.
"Right now?"
"Patience, Megumi." Sukuna shifts his leg between Megumi's thighs, coming even closer, until it's barely an inch separating Megumi's cunt from his knee. So close he can feel the warmth of Sukuna right there, where he's squeezing around nothing in his jeans. "I'd like to get to know you first."
Sukuna is fucking mean. Megumi decides as much in that split second, when Sukuna's eyes darken with a newfound glee while watching Megumi's inner turmoil.
"Such a gentleman," Megumi says, voice dripping in playful sarcasm.
Sukuna hums, and with it the band relaxes between them, charged air turning into something more casual. They're on the same page. Sukuna wants him. Megumi wants Sukuna. At least for the night, or maybe two, if they get lucky.
"What do you wanna know?" Megumi asks, downing half of his milkshake in three loud slurps.
"How long have you been working here?"
"Hm." Megumi takes the time to think. "Since I was thirteen, so five years now. Six soon."
He watches Sukuna do the math in his head, and Megumi swears his face lights up a little. It's an insignificant change, a curve of a lip and the clench of a jaw, but Megumi has been watching the man so carefully it's impossible to miss it.
And then, one of Sukuna's eyebrows ticks up. "Thirteen?"
"Well, even earlier, but I was thirteen when some of the money started going to my pockets."
Frankly, Megumi can't remember a time where the diner wasn't his life. Memories of Toji behind a smoking stove and his mom laughing watching him nearly burn down their business and one bedroom apartment along with it are distantly warped with time, more so a feeling than a real, vivid memory. But they're there, a reminder that this place existed before Megumi.
"Family business, then?"
Megumi plucks a piece of strawberry from his milkshake and eats it. The next one he finds, he presses to Sukuna's lips.
"Yep." Watching Sukuna open his mouth for him, Megumi pushes the piece of strawberry against a waiting tongue. It's far more erotic than it has any right to be—the way whipped cream catches on Sukuna's moustache and he licks past Megumi's fingers to get it. When he speaks, his voice sounds wrecked to his own ears. "And what do you do?"
His next move—which he has had a lot of for someone with no interest in casual hookups or even dating—is the slide of his ass against leather, and then his clothed cunt against perfectly ironed dress pants. The grind he offers is nothing more than a small circle of hips, but the seam of his jeans presses onto his clit perfectly and his breathy whimper barely gets swallowed down.
Sukuna, for his part of the little game they've been playing, doesn't reward him with a reaction. If he feels the lack of a dick in between Megumi's legs, which he most certainly does, his face doesn't show surprise. Some of Megumi's worries melt away with the whipped cream in his tall glass.
"I own two companies, one passed down from my father and the other founded by me," Sukuna's voice changes then, like the topic of work is boresome.
He seems to find more enjoyment in pushing more of Megumi's buttons. Not sparing him a glance, Sukuna lets the silence hang as he eats and pushes a solid knee against Megumi somewhat forcefully.
Megumi chokes on a moan, and then the milkshake that takes a wrong turn on its way down.
"You're evil—" Megumi wheezes out between coughs, eyes teary when he finally catches a full breath. Sukuna watches it all unfold with a feral kind of smirk, making Megumi glare at him halfheartedly. "I could've died, and then what? You would've been charged with murder, and worse, you wouldn't get your dick sucked."
With his plate now mostly empty, Sukuna leans into his booth more comfortably, eyes heavy and all over Megumi.
"And?" Sukuna lifts an eyebrow. His forehead lines deepen, and then he says, "Why aren't you on your knees already?"
Megumi glares, but it holds no heat whatsoever. "So much for getting to know me better."
The bitchy comment turns muffled half-way out his mouth, because he's already wriggling his way underneath the table and between Sukuna's legs. Distantly, he's grateful for the fact that none of the cameras in the diner have been functional for the past several years, as he finds his place on the filthy checkered floor. His height makes the fit tight, but then Sukuna does him the favour of pushing the table back towards the opposite booth, allowing space for Megumi to mouth at him freely.
Sukuna's hand comes up to rest on the back of his head, the other one tapping absentmindedly where it's draped over the booth again. It's the only sound accompanying the slow, jazzy track that's been turned down to be background noise. Megumi's heartbeat is louder than both, going thump-thump-thump and up his throat, sending blood rushing to his face.
He knows how to suck dick. The few not-really-boyfriends he's had have all liked his mouth a fair amount, but the thickness filling out under his working mouth shakes his confidence.
Sukuna must sense it, because he starts a steady caress through his hair, head tilting to the left, and then, "You okay? You don't have to do it if you're having second thoughts. We can just talk."
Megumi has no doubts Sukuna is interesting. That he'd enjoy actually having a proper conversation that isn't just prolonged foreplay with the man. He also has no doubts he won't be able to shake this buzzing energy from his body all night long unless he does this.
Shaking his head, he reaches for the waistband of Sukuna's pants. "No. I want to."
The button pops easily through its seamlessly stitched opening, and then the zipper, and Megumi is holding his breath as he tugs on the fabric to reveal the bulge in Sukuna's underwear.
"Okay, sweetheart. Take your time."
Sukuna pats his head, the condescending nature of it something Megumi should and would hate were it anybody else, but somehow Sukuna makes it feel good. Like Megumi should be slowly guided through something he's done several times, and then scooped up and comforted when he messes up.
Megumi decides to just rip the band-aid off, and nearly goes cross eyed at the length that nearly slaps his face on its way out.
Okay. Fuck. Holy fuck.
"Knew you'd be big, but…" Megumi trails off, hands hovering over Sukuna's cock. Unsure where to even start. "Fuck, Sukuna."
It's a porn worthy cock in front of him. Thick and uncut with a vein going down the underside, tempting Megumi to trace it with his tongue and fingers at the same time, but he's too stun locked to really do anything.
If he somehow fits Sukuna into his mouth, which might just end in him drooling stupidly all over the man's expensive three-piece, he will deem it a success.
"You can just use your hands, doll. I'll be fine with whatever you do."
Megumi knows Sukuna really means it for two reasons.
One: he sounds and looks pleased as he says it, before Megumi's even touched him. As if Megumi looking small and just a teeny-tiny bit scared under his cock is a particularly fine view for the man.
Two: his voice is calm, not at all surprised. It makes a lot of fucking sense, because Megumi can't imagine Sukuna has come across a lot of people willing to try and break open their throat on a dick as big as his, much less anybody that's actually done it.
Megumi's teeth itch with curiosity as he finally gets himself to move. One hand around the base. The other pushing Sukuna's briefs down, under a set of heavy looking balls.
"Sorry, but—" Megumi licks his lips, a breathy chuckle pushing past them. "Have you ever even gotten proper head? Like, throat and all?"
Sukuna takes a moment to think. Megumi uses the silence to cup Sukuna's balls with one hand.
"I can't say that I have."
"Right," Megumi says, distracted.
They are, indeed, heavy. In a way, it's like touching a cock for the first time, so alive and responsive. A small, experimental tug makes Sukuna twitch with a quick jerk, the girth of him slipping out of Megumi's loose hold just enough that he has to chase after it.
For the first time in his life he doesn't go headfirst into what he's doing. Instead, he takes Sukuna's advice.
When one hand isn't enough to wrap around him fully, Megumi brings the other one up to start a slow, measured stroke. From the base of Sukuna's cock to the very tip, mesmerised by the way the skin shifts back when he goes in reverse, revealing the thick, pink cockhead under it.
It feels like unwrapping a gift every time, over and over again. Megumi can't help but giggle at the thought, moving his hands faster.
"You're being good, sweetheart," Sukuna hums, voice thick. "Spit on it, go on. Get it nice and wet."
Megumi nods, gathers up all the saliva in his mouth, and spits.
The slide gets somewhat easier, but then the spit dries up too quickly, and Megumi is just about to do it again when he strokes down and sees it. A bead of precum gathered at the tip—now significantly darker in shade—as he pops open that gift, and Megumi all but drools watching it get smeared around on his next upstroke.
"Jesus," he breathes out heavily, and then bites his tongue. Fucking hot. Megumi has only found dicks visually bearable at best up until this point, but Sukuna's…it's fucking magical. It moves and responds in its own little language, entertaining all of Megumi's curiosities. Twitch, throb, leak—a mesmerising dance and it's all for him. "You're so hot."
"Mm." Sukuna runs the backs of his knuckles over Megumi's cheek, pinching softly in a way that has him flushing all over. "You should see yourself right now, doll. You have no clue how much strength it's taking me to not just take your pretty little face and force my way inside."
Megumi shivers at the tone. He lets more spit dribble out and onto Sukuna's cock, working him with both hands tirelessly.
"I can try," Megumi says, squeezing the base. He looks up at Sukuna. "I want to."
Sukuna tsks, tippingMegumi's head back. Index finger to his chin.
"Ambitious little thing," he muses. "Okay then, but don't force it, if you can't take it then you can't take it. Got it?"
Nodding, Megumi shifts on his already sore knees until his mouth is hovering over the tip.
Now, Megumi is an all in or nothing kind of guy. He doesn't half-ass shit, never has, but even he knows his limits. Which is why he's slow when he starts to mouth over the tip—now flushed a pretty red, standing proud and wet as Megumi suckles, hands moving over the rest of the length. Sukuna lets out another one of his grunts, the vibrato slithering down Megumi's spine, encouraging him to lick and touch more.
He goes to his previous position. One hand cupping Sukuna's balls while the other takes care of the rest, and his mouth, well, soon enough it's everywhere.
When he's satisfied with his work on the tip he moves down, kissing and licking down the underside, and just like he imagined—he traces the thick vein there with the tip of his tongue, basking in Sukuna's warmth. And the smell…god, the smell. It's fucking manly, potent in the best way possible, like everything else about Sukuna. Megumi huffs almost desperately once he's made his way down to the base, face buried between the shaft and the balls, trying to commit the musk to memory. Have it linger in his nose for days.
Sukuna twitches again in his hand, but this time Megumi just squeezes him tighter, looking up at him through his eyelashes and the giant fucking cock obscuring his vision. Like this, with his mouth all the way down at the base, the tip ends somewhere past the top of his head.
Megumi can't see, and he doesn't care right now.
"S'fucking good," he mutters, unsure if Sukuna is even hearing him. The man's perfectly neutral face is screwed up now, nostrils flared, and Megumi can't help it. He presses his tongue flat against Sukuna's balls, gripping him nice and tight and rubbing the wet underside of his cock along his face. "Nngh, fuck, please, Sukuna."
Megumi closes his eyes, surely smearing what little mascara he had put on his eyelashes that morning, but he couldn't care less right now. He just keeps basking in how thick and heavy Sukuna is, wrenching his jaw open at some point to take in one of his balls.
The hand in his hair suddenly tightens, and all Megumi sees with his vision blurred is the string of spit connecting him to Sukuna as he's ripped away, still panting, blinking up at the man.
He whines then, completely uninhibited, hands grasping onto Sukuna's thighs desperately.
"Fucking hell, just look at you," Sukuna hisses. "Drooling on my dick like a dog."
Megumi grunts, and it scratches on its way out of his throat. Feral and too big for him to keep in, and then, "Please. I— want you to slap me."
One of Sukuna's eyebrows shoots up to his forehead, grip tightening. Megumi clears his throat and clarifies.
"With your cock. Please, Sukuna."
Sukuna laughs under his breath, tossing his head back. "Christ, kid, you've got a filthy fucking mouth on you."
Megumi pouts, and just when he thinks Sukuna won't do it there's a large hand wrapping around his at the base and guiding his cock down in one harsh slap, right across Megumi's left cheek.
His pussy throbs, leaking so much Megumi is certain his jeans are wet too.
"Again."
Sukuna inhales deeply through his nose, and then does it again. Three slaps one after the other, the weight of Sukuna's cock colliding with his face enough to ring out through the diner every time, making Megumi's stomach swoop. If Toji had any clue what he was doing…
Megumi shakes the thought. Blinking up at Sukuna through tears, he mumbles, "Thank you."
"How polite." Sukuna grips his jaw tightly. "Stick your tongue out," he says. Megumi listens before the command is even out fully.
"Yeah, like that, doll. So pretty for me."
He's rewarded again, only this time Sukuna slaps the tip on his waiting tongue. Once, twice, and on the third one he curves it into the angle of Megumi's mouth, stretching out, out, out, and then pulling back with a small 'pop' sound.
Megumi chases after him, slurping up precum and the ridiculous amount of spit he's left behind. Sukuna lets up. He goes back to scratching Megumi's scalp as he busies himself with his cock, this time stretching his mouth to take the whole tip.
Spreading his legs further, Sukuna trails his hand down to press into the knots at the base of Megumi's neck. Megumi moans on his cock, doing his best to hide his teeth as he lowers himself down and successfully swallows down the head, but then he misjudges the girth and grazes the skin under the tip.
"Uhh," Sukuna groans, teeth gritted. "Fuck, doll."
Megumi pulls off immediately. "I'm sorry— shit, I didn't mean to—"
"Easy, kid, you're alright. Just took me by surprise."
Megumi nods frantically, watching Sukuna bring a hand up to stroke himself with a strange kind of grief tumbling down on him at once. There's no way he can suck him off when he can't even get past the tip without his teeth getting in the way. It's factual. It's a reality Megumi hates more than anything else in this moment.
And embarrassingly enough, he realises he's crying. Real, fat tears rolling down his cheeks before he can even think to stop them.
He goes to hide his face, press himself further into the floor in hopes of it swallowing him whole, but Sukuna doesn't give him the chance to do any of that. The man tilts his head back, frowning down at him, and it only makes Megumi feel worse. He failed and now he's making a fucking fool of himself.
"Hey, hey, what is it?" Sukuna shakes him gently. "You didn't hurt yourself, did you?"
"No," Megumi hiccups, breaking free from Sukuna's hold to hide his face in the man's thigh. "I just— I failed. I can't do it."
To make matters even worse, he's now slobbering all over Sukuna and making a scene, wasting his precious time he could probably use to pay someone that knows what they're doing.
God, he's such a fucking mess.
"Okay, I get it. Can you look at me now?"
Megumi shakes his head, burrowing deeper. It doesn't deter Sukuna. He just keeps running gentle fingers through Megumi's hair, shushing him softly.
"That's alright," Sukuna's voice is soft, like he's talking to a scared child. "But you're listening to me, right?"
This time, Megumi nods.
"Good," Sukuna hums. "I told you I'm fine with whatever you decide to do, sweetheart, didn't I?"
Another nod.
"It's a pleasure to just be around you, Megumi," he starts, "and I don't say that just to make you feel better. I mean it, doll. Whether you can put your mouth on me is irrelevant when I could've finished just watching your face, and your pretty little hands grabbing at my cock." Sukuna laughs, so smooth it crackles through Megumi. "Fuck, kid, you've got no fucking idea…"
Megumi sniffles, heart going thump-thump-thump in his ears again when he lifts his head.
Sukuna means it. Megumi knows because he's figured it out by now—a man as powerful as Sukuna doesn't need to lie for anything. Certainly not for some minuscule diner employee.
Despite what he expected, Sukuna is just as hard as he'd been before Megumi broke down and got all snotty in front of him. Still pink and leaking, still watching Megumi with that heaviness in his eyes. Want, Megumi figures. It's as pressing as gravity, a force of nature, and it can only be for Megumi.
"Hey there."
Megumi giggles, wiping his nose with the back of his hand.
"Hi."
"Are you okay?"
Megumi sighs. "I'm okay. And I'm sorry…"
"Now, now, do I look upset to you?"
If he's being completely honest, Megumi doesn't have a concrete answer. There's something wild present in his face, despite how calm he sounds. Megumi doesn't know what to make of it.
"No?"
"No," Sukuna confirms. "Why don't you go back to the start, hm? No mouth. Take it slow."
Sniffling again, Megumi does exactly that.
It's safe, easy, and maybe that's good enough right now. Maybe Megumi doesn't have to take Sukuna to the hilt to make the man remember him forever in case they never see each other again.
Maybe he can just make Sukuna cum and leave it there.
So he wraps both hands around him and gets to work, using his mouth only to suck the tip in and make it messy. Drool drips down Sukuna's length, and Megumi starts twisting his wrists, putting a little extra movement behind every stroke. When it makes Sukuna hum in approval, he speeds up.
"So good, doll," Sukuna praises, eyelids heavy as he watches Megumi. "You've got nothing to worry your pretty little head about."
When Sukuna's like this, shirt unbuttoned to show off a wide chest with a sheen of sweat over tan skin, Megumi thinks he's dreaming. He expects to wake up any second, wet and humping his bed by himself, as he counts Sukuna's irregular breaths.
He sucks just a little harder then, slurping when more precum hits his tongue, and Sukuna lets out a loud groan.
"'M close, sweetheart," Sukuna mutters. "Keep going, just like that."
Megumi's heart jumps in excitement, blood rushing fast and way-too-hot. He feels like he's burning up from the inside, from his devastatingly empty cunt to his eager mouth—suckling, tongue swirling round and round, pressing flat to the very head of the silky smooth tip.
Sukuna inhales sharply, and then he's ripping Megumi's mouth off his cock, the grip in his hair making him squirm.
"Fuck yeah, go on," Sukuna says, sounding wrecked. "Make daddy paint your face, baby."
Megumi's own little squeal gets drowned out by Sukuna's long groan, and then a spurt of hot cum hits his cheek, and then his eye, and Megumi scrambles to get himself together. Sticking his tongue out, he tries to catch as much as he can when Sukuna slaps his hands away to stroke himself rough and fast, cursing and grunting through it until he's spent.
Sukuna pumps out one last spurt of cum, and Megumi watches it trickle over Sukuna's fingers when he pauses just under the tip, gripping his cock tightly and breathing heavy.
The first thing Megumi thinks when his brain is back in action is that Sukuna tastes good, better than any of the guys Megumi's previously sucked off.
The second—he'll never be able to give head after this without thinking of Sukuna and his cock. He knows it with a certainty; no one will ever live up to Sukuna.
When Sukuna eases up Megumi is quick to take his hand into both of his and start slurping up cum off his ringed fingers. Sukuna lets him, chuckling breathlessly.
"Okay?"
Megumi hums and nuzzles Sukuna's palm.
"Perfect."
Slowly, Sukuna goes soft. He cleans Megumi up with a napkin, tucks himself back in his underwear, and pulls Megumi off the floor.
Megumi hisses at the pain in his knees, having to balance himself using Sukuna's shoulders once he's back on his feet. Two large hands come down to his hips to help, and Megumi feels a little dizzy seeing the open awe on Sukuna's face.
"I can't feel my legs."
He doesn't expect Sukuna to lift him up and set him down on the table like he weighs nothing, but it happens before he can even think to react. Sukuna runs his hands down Megumi's thighs, squeezing softly.
"My bad, doll," Sukuna says. He looks down at his watch and his face crumples slightly. "I kept you here way past your closing time, too. Are you sure you'll be able to do it alone?"
Megumi softens at the real concern in Sukuna's voice. "I'll be fine, I promise."
It will take way too long and he will most definitely have to deal with control freak Toji for coming up so late, but it's completely worth it, if you ask Megumi. Sukuna doesn't argue against it, and Megumi's heart sinks a little watching him get up from the booth, preparing himself to say goodbye for good.
Sukuna stands in between his legs and tips his head back one last time, taking a long look at Megumi's face.
"I'll see you soon, Megumi."
He almost expects a kiss, but instead Sukuna reaches for his wallet, taking out a few bills Megumi doesn't even look at. A hand slides down to his hip, fingers tugging the waistband of his jeans back so Sukuna can safely tuck the money under the fabric and step back, and that's it.
Megumi doesn't get a kiss. Just another pat to his cheek and then Sukuna is out the door, leaving Megumi to stare at his empty spot in the booth, trying to figure out what the fuck just happened.
♡
His first course of action had been to text Kirara when he got home, who didn't shy away from sending a screaming voice note and about a billion eggplant emojis just to fuck with him. So it's no surprise she's waiting on him with a huge grin the next morning, apparently not feeling the hours of sleep they lost texting until God knows when.
She's got her hip against the bench behind the diner and a cigarette in hand, smirk mirthful as she watches Megumi approach.
"Look at you," Kirara whistles. "Looking real reformed after getting some good dick."
So, Megumi may or may not have woken up an hour earlier than he usually would just to get extra dolled up for work. And he may or may not be secretly hoping to see Sukuna again today, even if the chances are close to none.
Sukuna is a busy man. Megumi has learned as much last night, but what's a little bit of hope to get him through the day.
Worst case scenario Sukuna doesn't show and Megumi brings in some good tips thanks to the lip gloss and tiny shorts. It's a win-win case for him, even if he might have his own preferences.
He rolls his eyes at Kirara, but he can't hold back the grin tugging on his mouth for too long.
"Yeah, yeah, we get it."
Once he's in front of her, Megumi reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a few bills, handing them over when Kirara reaches out with a raised eyebrow.
"For last night," Megumi clarifies. "Thanks for helping me out. Sukuna left a big tip."
Kirara chuckles, and Megumi realises his mistake a little too late.
"Oh, I'm sure it was big."
"Shut up."
"No, really." Kirara pockets the money with a grin. "How big was it?"
Megumi feels his face flush, but he still brings his hands up to offer an estimate. When Kirara's eyes go wide he laughs.
"Couldn't even fit it in my mouth," he admits, still mourning the fact.
"Well, we've gotta fix that," Kirara says, stomping on her cigarette to burn it out. "You free tonight?"
Megumi raises an eyebrow. "You're offering dick sucking lessons?"
Kirara scoffs. "Not my dick, just, you know…we can practice a bit."
Shrugging, Megumi chews on the insides of his cheeks.
"I don't think I'm seeing him again. He's leaving town tomorrow and I don't have his number or anything," Megumi sighs. "I don't know. Guess I'll just be going back to average size dicks when I feel like fucking."
Kirara clicks her tongue in disapproval, but the kitchen back door is busting open before she can say anything else. They both turn to see Toji stood in the doorframe, arms crossed and apron on, looking very ready to cut their conversation short.
"What are you two waiting on? We're opening in five."
The words cut through clear and firm, no room for dragging things on. Megumi hoists his bag up on his shoulder as he makes his way over, pausing to hug Toji at the door before walking inside to unstack chairs and unlock the diner for another day. He hears Kirara saying her own hellos behind him, the familiar, routine-like nature of it all enough to kill some of the buzz in Megumi's jittery body.
The first few hours are slow.
Megumi spends them scrolling on his phone behind the counter, looking over his shoulder when he types in Sukuna's name in the search bar. It's far from an educational search at first—no social media accounts pop up, and with his lack of information on the man he can't rely on any other keywords to help him, but a few articles down he strikes gold.
A motorboat race link dating back three years is what he finds when he digs deeper. Under the title is a picture with Sukuna in it. He's shaking hands with what seems to be a winner of a motorboat event that was held under his sponsorship, clad in a white suit, hair slicked back and a pair of shades sitting on top of his head. His smile is wide, skin holding a deep, delicious summer tan that has Megumi's belly doing somersaults as he scrolls down to read more.
Sukuna isn't the main topic of the article, but Megumi finds what he's been looking for fairly quickly.
Ryomen MS is highlighted amongst the credits, immediately drawing Megumi's finger to the linked website. His shitty phone takes a minute to load it, which he spends chewing on his fingernail and bouncing his leg impatiently, but then an automotive manufacturing company finally flashes on his screen and Megumi straightens his back.
It makes sense, when he takes a look around with his minimal knowledge on anything motor vehicle related, and the dots begin to connect.
Ryomen Sukuna, founder of Ryomen MS—a fairly new company in the motorsport world from what Megumi can tell. Huh. So Sukuna has a fascination with motor vehicles. Megumi takes note of the newfound information, going on a deeper search with hungry eyes.
He doesn't understand much of anything when it comes to big companies and rich folk business, but then he sees another company under Sukuna's name that's been passed down to a younger brother once the man decided to shift his efforts elsewhere. It's a pharmaceutical branch from what Megumi can tell, but when it doesn't give him much insight into Sukuna himself he abandons the search, going back to look for more pictures and articles, anything that can feed the growing pit of curiosity in him.
Sukuna is always dressed to impress. In every single picture Megumi can find the man is polished to perfection, not a single hair out of place and a perfectly tailored suit sitting snug on his wide shoulders. He seems to attend and sponsor boat races more than anything, though Megumi manages to dig up a few pictures of him sitting VIP in other sporting events in the long stretch of time he gets to stalk as much as he wants.
Megumi is quick to find out why curiosity killed the cat, however, when he finds another image. Only this time Sukuna isn't with a winner of an event or a bunch of other rich investors, no, he's got a young, pretty thing wrapped around his arm, and his hand is sitting nice and proud on her bare leg. Megumi pauses, thumb hovering over the screen as he catches himself glaring at his phone.
Before he can entertain an immature flick of jealousy that lights up in his chest, the bell dings again to welcome a group of regulars. Megumi puts his phone on the counter, slams it down screen first as if it personally offended him, and smiles nice and wide.
This is a playing field Megumi knows how to navigate, which is why he's welcome for the distraction.
"Hey, guys," Megumi greets the booth full of guys his age, cheerful voice on and a notepad in hand to take their orders. "What can I get you?"
Mahito—a delinquent Megumi has known for as long as he's been alive—is the first to speak. Mouth tugged into a lazy smirk that raises nothing but unease. "I'll have the usual, babygirl."
Megumi inwardly cringes at the pet name, but he silently jots down a cheeseburger with no onion. The next order comes with the same amount of douchery laced in it, and Megumi writes some more. Keeps his responses light and playful, face void of any reaction that might bring out displeasure, and he's so focused on keeping neutral that he doesn't hear the bell a second time.
"Why so quiet today, baby," Mahito continues, and Megumi tenses feeling a hand go to his hip. "Aren't you happy to see us?"
His friends laugh amongst themselves, very obviously hungover with how they start hissing in pain the next second. Megumi lifts his head, and that is when he sees a very large, very Sukuna shaped figure at the entrance from the corner of his eye, just as Mahito reaches around to squeeze his ass.
Megumi tenses up and lies through his teeth. "Very happy. Your food will be out soon."
Megumi steps back with a smile still glued to his face, not looking in Sukuna's direction until the paper with the orders is delivered to Kirara in the kitchen. Taking the short time frame to decompress, Megumi takes a few deep breaths, eyes glued to the pink and white checkered tiles in front of him as he counts to five. Back straight, arms loose, and shoulders set. He's got this.
Sukuna is stood at the counter instead of sitting at any of the booths when Megumi returns, face flat and jaw tense, throwing back looks at the occupied booth behind him. He is the same image from last night. Suit and tie and cleanly trimmed beard, and yet he feels…new. He is still Sukuna, still sexy and big enough to own any room he walks into, but Megumi has peeled back some base layer of his image, and in a way, he feels more balanced. Like he knows what to expect now, which he desperately needed after their last encounter.
"Hi," Megumi exhales, giving Sukuna's burgundy suit an appreciative look-over.
Sukuna doesn't look all that happy, but his face relaxes by a small margin when he takes Megumi in.
"Hi, doll," Sukuna says, and Megumi's insides just about explode.
Megumi plays it cool, pretending to sort something while eyeing Sukuna's hand tapping away in front of him.
"Why aren't you sitting down?"
"I'm not here to eat." Sukuna lays his palm flat then, the soft click of his rings loud in Megumi's ears. "Are you free any time soon?"
Megumi inhales sharply, wracking his brain for options. Sukuna surely doesn't have all day to wait around for him, and the chances of getting any time alone with the man with Toji there to micromanage the diner are close to none. Unless…
He decides to say fuck it, and finally looks up at Sukuna. "I can take an early break right now."
"Do that," Sukuna says, leaving no room for arguments.
"Yeah, okay," Megumi whispers. "Alley behind the diner?"
Sukuna only gives him a clipped nod before turning around and making his way out. Megumi's heart feels fast enough to beat through his chest as he shoots out a quick text to Kirara, keeping it short but informative enough for her to know why she's randomly taking over for Megumi behind the counter. He only prays she'll think of a good enough excuse for Toji.
When he rounds the small building their diner is occupying Sukuna is waiting for him on the bench, sitting under the shade with a cigarette in hand. Megumi walks up quick and determined, fists bunched up at his sides.
"We have thirty minutes."
It seems to take Sukuna off guard, because he pauses with the cigarette half-way to his mouth, chuckling softly after he's given Megumi another, slower once over.
"You waste no time, huh?"
Megumi rolls his eyes, but it's useless with the wide grin on his face as reality begins to sink in rapidly. Sukuna is in front of him. He made a point to return and look for Megumi. And he looks impossibly fucking hot manspreading in front of him, taking up more than half the bench with the sheer size of him.
"Shut up," he mutters, halfhearted, and then drops down on the bench next to Sukuna. "You came back."
One of Sukuna's eyebrows jumps up. "Did you think I wouldn't?"
"I don't know." Megumi shrugs. "You're a busy man, I tried to keep my expectations pretty low."
Sukuna smiles, takes another drag of his cigarette before throwing it to the side, and rests his arm on the back of the bench behind Megumi.
"Is that so?"
Megumi hums, tracking Sukuna's hand on its way between his legs. Megumi parts them for him easily, and Sukuna takes it as his sign to unbutton Megumi's shorts. No questions asked, and it makes sense, Megumi supposes. Sukuna doesn't ask, he just takes.
"Yeah," Megumi says. His hips twitch when Sukuna shoves a hand down the skimpy piece of fabric and hums at the wetness waiting for him there. "I did my research."
"And?" Sukuna prompts casually, like he isn't pushing Megumi's panties to the side as he says it. "What did you find?"
Megumi's next breath hitches on its way in, hands coming down to hold the wooden plank of the bench as Sukuna thumbs over his clit. There's an urgency all around them, or maybe it's just Megumi and the alarms going off in his head, because Sukuna doesn't seem to be in a rush. He dips his fingers between Megumi's pussy lips slowly, smearing the wetness around, and Megumi lets out a shaky whimper.
"Fo—mmh, fuck—found your company website and the work you do, and I've gotta say…" Megumi throws his head back, letting it rest on Sukuna's arm as he looks up at the man through his eyelashes. "Motorboats is such a rich bastard interest."
Sukuna barks out a laugh, and the sound only adds to the mess in between Megumi's legs, cunt squeezing around nothing in wait.
"Can't argue with that. What else?"
Without any prior warning, two fingers push inside Megumi, making him choke on a surprised moan. Sukuna lets out his own appreciative noise as he starts pumping the digits in and out of Megumi at a leisurely pace.
"You probably own more suits than anybody else I've known in my whole life." Megumi starts rolling his hips down on Sukuna's hand, a subtle move, but Sukuna's eyes go darker, fingers rougher the next time they slam inside.
He doesn't take his eyes off Megumi's face. "And you like that?"
"Ye-ah," Megumi's voice breaks on the word. Sukuna curls his fingers in his cunt, and Megumi's own hand shoots out to grip the man's perfectly styled hair. "You look hot wearing them."
"And that's all? You didn't find anything else?"
Sukuna's voice is suggestive, the curl of his mouth particularly sharp. Megumi is being egged on, he realises through the pleasure making him sweat, but he falls for it all the same.
"You get anybody you want," Megumi whimpers into the small space between them, toes curling when Sukuna rubs his clit again just as he plunges his fingers in deeper. "Any pretty thing you want on your arm, you'll have them. Because you're you, and you're probably used to power."
The truth of the statement should scare Megumi. It only turns him on even more.
"And how does that make you feel, doll?"
Megumi frowns, fingers tugging on Sukuna's hair. Jealous. Annoyed. Maybe even a little horny, if Megumi really spins it his way. Those are all real answers he could offer, but instead he pulls Sukuna closer—or, more accurately, Sukuna allows himself to be pulled down and into a bruising kiss.
Their noses clash with the angle, but it does little to stop Megumi in his pursuit. He shoves his tongue into Sukuna's mouth immediately, parting the man's lips with ease and moaning when Sukuna kisses back just as hard. Just as messy, tongue pressing Megumi's up into the roof of his mouth before they part and readjust. The second time, it's Sukuna that takes the lead, bringing his free hand up to the back of Megumi's head to keep him in place as he licks at him slowly, and then all at once.
Sukuna's kisses are demanding, beard scratchy against soft skin. It's intense enough to wipe Megumi's brain completely, until any thoughts of being out where they could easily get caught are erased, and it's just Sukuna's fingers fucking him like he wants to leave a permanent mark inside Megumi.
His shorts don't allow enough space for Sukuna to pull out all the way, so every single thrust feels like Megumi is being bounced on Sukuna's hand, fingers driving in deeper and deeper. Pressing into tight walls and making Megumi clench in response every time, a chain of breathy ah-ah-ah's leaving his open mouth. Sukuna swallows them down, licks them out of Megumi's mouth like honey and feeds it back to him until he's choking on it.
Sukuna pulls back, lips red and shiny with spit. Megumi wants to kiss him again. For hours, maybe, if the world would allow him such a thing.
"So wet for me, doll. Fucking," Sukuna grunts, pulling away and pushing back in so hard Megumi yelps, "sucking me in like a whore. Such a loud little cunt."
Megumi grips Sukuna's wrist, using the hand he has in his hair to pull him in again. Or away. He can't tell anymore. Up and down, left and right, they're all the same with Megumi's blurred vision. His pussy is sloshing around Sukuna's fingers, lewd and filthy, making a mess that's running down his legs, down, down, down—he thinks he's falling into Sukuna. Or Sukuna's plunging into him, rough and fast. Vigorous. Threatening to break him open.
"Pl—aah-hah—fuck, fuck S'kuna," Megumi mutters, throat tight. "It's s-oh it feels so—"
His voice breaks into a moan, and he cums so hard and so suddenly it feels like it snaps him in half.
Sukuna doesn't stop. Doesn't give Megumi a moment to breathe. His fingers stay nestled in deep, rubbing up against that spot that keeps the pressure high, milking Megumi for every last drop as he squirms, begs, claws at Sukuna with shaky hands. The bench creaks under their weight, a steady sound to accompany Megumi in his climax, and he rides it out until he can't anymore.
His head falls onto Sukuna's shoulder, hips squirming away from the pleasure-turned-pain, and Sukuna lets him go. Megumi pants, watching Sukuna's hand drip as he pulls it out of Megumi's shorts. And Megumi is not prude by any means, but seeing it like that makes his entire face go red. He buries it into Sukuna's shoulder, hands twisting in his disgustingly expensive suit.
"That's— ugh." Megumi groans, cunt sore and clenching at Sukuna's responding chuckle.
"Delicious."
He peers up at Sukuna to see the man licking his fingers clean, eyelids heavy and slow, blinking down at Megumi like he wants to eat him whole.
"I hate you."
Sukuna pointedly looks down to the large, wet patch he has left on Megumi's shorts. "I don't know about that, doll."
Megumi sighs at the mess and his shaky legs, already dreading the rest of his shift when Sukuna gets up and takes his warmth and woody smell with him, searching for something in his pocket while smoothing down his blazer as well as he can. The material is crinkled in one spot, just under Sukuna's chest, thanks to Megumi. He can't help but be pleased with himself, seeing a crack in Sukuna's otherwise perfect appearance.
"Here, have this," Sukuna cuts through his thoughts, hand outstretched in front of Megumi. "I hope to hear from you, sweetheart."
A plain black business card is what he's left with when Sukuna leaves him in another hurried goodbye, white digits carved into the smooth surface along with Sukuna's name. Megumi runs a slow finger over the letters, blinking down at the card, mind still too deep in post-orgasmic bliss to catch up with the whiplash of Sukuna's departure. A flash of green pops out from the corner then, under Megumi's careful inspection, and he finds more folded up money underneath the card once he flips it.
It's a sum much larger than the previous one. Surely a ridiculously small thing for Sukuna, Megumi could bet on that much even through the confusion beginning to set in. He is slow, almost hesitant to shove the money in his shorts as he checks his phone to see there are five minutes of his break left to spare, and he spends all five contemplating typing Sukuna's number in and sending a message, but ultimately decides against it.