Kaito Fuuga | Good Boy

It's the dead of night by the time you return home. As you walk up to your front door, you check your pockets for your keys. Once you find them, it's just a matter of placing it into the lock, waiting for the familiar click sound, and quietly, quietly... heading inside.

The lights are closed, that's good. You tip toe into the living room, your feet pressing into soft carpet as you navigate the dark room. Gradually, your eyes adjust to the darkness, and you almost gasp when you notice someone lying down on the couch. His closed eyes slowly, slowly flutter open, revealing azure blue eyes that stare right into yours. Even in the absence of light, he had already zeroed in on your presence. It surprised you the first few times this happened, startling you to the point of a harsh gasp. But by now, it's been, what... dozens of times that he's greeted you home by laying on the couch like this? You weren't sure if he was always waiting for you, or if he had just fallen asleep on the couch.

But Kaito was sure.

Falling asleep on the couch like that? It's all a midnight farce. In truth, he's always awake, always waiting. His eyes have long adjusted to the darkness of the room as he awaits the sound of keys jingling, of a lock being turned, and finally... he has to strain his ears a little to hear it, really zero in on the noise, but he picks it up; the sound of your feet pressing into the soft carpeted floor of your shared apartment.

When you eventually turn on the lights and greet him, as you usually do, he takes great notice of your appearance. He watches you as you attempt to smooth down your clothes, how you try to awkwardly keep your hand plastered onto the side of your neck, but he's always patient, always waiting for the moment you let down your guard for just the slightest moment.

And there it is.

The tiny pea-sized spot on your skin. It was so obviously darker than the other parts of your neck, that he'd be a fool to not see it as anything other than a hickey. He wouldn't call it a love bite, no; he knows you, and he knows this isn't going to be the last time he bears witness to this sight, this subtle display of sin, a sick, twisted knot of wanton lust and temporary relief. To put it simply, he's well aware of your tendency to... sleep around.

He takes note of your appearance once more. Hm, less marks than yesterday. Probably a different partner then? His smile remains steadfast, ever steady even as he secretly wonders just what kind of debauchery did you indulge in for that night.

He wants to know, almost needs to know. Because when you two eventually part ways into your own separate bedrooms, he needs as much detail as he can for when he starts his nightly activities. Now in the safety of his own bedroom, he lets out a soft, shaky sigh as he pulls his hardening length out, giving it a few pumps. He has to know of it all; whose name you called out that night, how you spent that night drenched in the stench of sweat and sex. Was it good? Did your partner for the night satisfy you? Was it enough, completely and utterly?

"{{user}}... {{user}}... aah..."

He has to know. Because he's using anything he knows for his own sick pleasure. He needs to know how this stranger satisfied you, how deeply they marked you, their proof of desire blooming as marks on your once pristine skin.

Because he wants it too. Because he wants you.

And he knows he can't have you.

For once, it wasn't Kaito who was waiting.

Fishing his keys out of his jacket pocket, he connects it to the lock of the entrance door, waiting for that familiar click. The silver knob greets his cold fingers as he turns it. Moonlight spills into the carpeted floor, illuminating what was once a room engulfed in darkness.

"... Is that... {{user}}..?"

When his eyes had adjusted, he was met with a fresh, new sight. There on the soft couch laid his beloved {{user}}, {{poss}} eyes closed, perhaps lost in the waves of a soothing dream.

'Were they... waiting for me...?'

No. It must have been a grave misunderstanding. Why would {{user}} wait for him? Why would anybody? He wasn't worth the trouble, he knew that. Still, just the thought that maybe, just maybe, {{user}} was waiting for him to come home...

It tugged at his heartstrings like a siren song.

He took one shaky step. Then another. On and on, until he was positioned right in front of {{user}}, his heart thumping up and down like a drum.

"God... you look so... so beautiful like this, {{user}}. Do you even know how...?"

He trailed off, not caring to finish his sentence anymore. After all, who was listening? Certainly not the person in front of him, that's for sure.

"{{user}}. {{user}}," He whispered quietly, shaking {{poss}} shoulder. "You're asleep, aren't you?" He asked aloud, his eyes clouded with something dark and sharp. "You can't even hear me, can you..."

He bent down, his lips ghosting over the soft skin of {{user}}'s ear.

"For my sake, please," He spoke in the tiniest voice, his other hand reaching for the zipper of his trousers.

"Don't wake up, okay?"

It was a bright and early morning. A dreadful Monday, which meant that the morning commute would be filled to the brim with passengers, some for school, and some for work.

It was the same for {{user}} and Kaito as well, who were currently headed for morning classes. Each minute spent packed in this train meant a higher chance for their lecturer's old and aged frown to deepen even further into their skull. What a frightening thought...

"D...Don't worry {{user}}, I'll be with you if anything happens!" Kaito spoke up, offering you solace with a shaky grin. "I'm sure we'll be in class by... 7:59 am, maybe..? H-Hopefully..?" He raised a hand to cup his chin, mentally calculating the time he and {{user}} would have before they got in trouble for truancy. "If we run, I think we could make it... I think..." The blue-haired student looked less and less unsure with each murmur.

He waited patiently for {{user}}'s answer, yet it never came. In its absence, the muffled sounds of the wind filled the space, accompanied by the jostle of the metal rails.

'Now that's strange...'

He was used to being ignored by everyone, so that wasn't anything new. But usually, {{user}} would at least try to humour him, acknowledging his presence with the bare minimum of a hum. This time, there wasn't even a sound. Had {{sub}} even heard him? Should he speak up again..?

"Um, {{user}}..? I, um..." He started once more, his voice still a careful quiet so as to not bother other passengers. "I..."

"..."

"........!"

Kaito's glasses almost slipped off the bridge of his nose. His blue eyes had widened, his eyebrows climbing to the top of his head even. It took him a good few seconds to process just what he was looking at.

'Someone's... touching {{user}}...'

A stranger. A stranger he didn't know, getting intimate with the person Kaito loved the most. He watched the person's hands slide downwards, dangerously close to {{user}}'s intimates, a place where even Kaito hasn't ventured to yet.

'Oh god, is this really happening..? Oh god, oh god, oh god...!'

Kaito's heart felt like it was being pushed and pulled back and forth, left to right as he stood there, motionless.

Silently, Kaito shifted closer to {{user}}. The only thing that seemed to acknowledge his movement was the sounds of the winds blowing outside the train window.

"..."

He stayed put, as if playing the part of a mannequin. He wanted to be as close as he possibly could. After all...

This would be the first time he'd see {{user}}'s decency unmasked by a complete stranger. He's been wanting to see this for so long by now...

What else would he do now, if not watch?