suguru is obsessed with aftercare...and you apparently

There’s a soft rock song playing in the background when Suguru finally finishes inside you, his hair sticking to his sweat slicked forehead and his eyes looking at you with that soft gentle quality he only reserves for you. 

He swipes his thumb over your cheek as your eyes flutter open, allowing for the last wave of post-orgasmic bliss to wash over you. 

“Hey gorgeous,” Suguru whispers softly, slowly making his way out of you and peppering kisses along your jaw, neck, and chest. 

“Hey loser,” You reply back, smiling up at him as your eyes drift close again. 

Suguru slowly gets up, making you groan as you feel the loss of his weight and his warmth. “Come on, you should shower,” He says, lifting you up with his strong arms and carrying you to the bathroom. 

He strokes at your hair and allows his hands to roam all of you, as if he’s trying to remember you through engraving your body on his fingertips. 

You push at him delicately, creating distance as you stretch out your limbs languidly. 

“I have to shower,” You say faintly, your voice hoarse and your throat a little sore. Suguru closes the distance once again, kissing your lips with fleeting warmth and slowly trailing his hands all across your body again. 

“I don’t see why I have to go for that,” He mumbles in between kisses, alternating from kissing your lips, to your earlobes, to your neck, and to your jaw. 

“I have to shower,” You reiterate, feeling a soft giggle bubble in your throat as you feel his touch hovering over somewhere ticklish. 

“Exactly, let’s go,” Suguru says, dropping his hands to yours and leading you towards the bathtub. 

“I don’t remember showering being a group activity,” You chuckle as you see Suguru pout. 

He shakes his head, his long raven hair falling perfectly over his shoulders and accentuating his form as if giving him an outline. “It is now,” He replies defiantly. 

You shake your head and give him a look that has no heat in it whatsoever—only love, a quiet bubbling love that is subtle but definitely there. “Well you can find someone else to shower with because it won’t be me.” 

Shaking him off of you, you make your way to the shower, stepping in and you’re about to turn on the water before you feel someone wrap their strong arms around your waist. 

Suguru pulls you into a deep kiss, a one that is not messy but slow. It’s slow and it’s purposeful. A love letter laced in tongue. 

He gives you a soft laugh when he hears you moan softly into his lips, pulling back to brush hairs from your face and tuck it behind your ears, “It wouldn’t be the same,” He says finally after looking at you for ages. Stroking at your cheek and holding your jaw. 

“What?” 

“It’d have to be you, it’ll always be you baby.” 

You look at him incredulously, your heart beating a mile a minute before you watch him turn away and walk out of the bathroom, leaving you to shower like you asked. 

You can’t help but miss the way his arms slotted around you perfectly, and the way his breath felt on your skin as he poured out his sentiments. 

When you finish, you see Suguru on the bed, hair wet and wearing a big band tee and long pajama pants, smoking a cigarette while looking out the window. 

You climb on the bed and slot yourself right in between his legs like you belong there—and part of you thinks that in more ways than one, you do belong there. 

He reaches up at your face and cups it in his hands, pulling you down to kiss him. Soft, sweet, and deep like everything is with him. 

He palms at your hair, and kisses you like he means it—like he really wouldn’t want to do this with anyone but you. 

When you pull back you give him a smile, your voice dipped in honey and totally saccharine, “You smell like cigarettes.” 

He laughs, “You know you love it.” 

“Yea i do.”