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Saihara felt guilty, for a lack of words.
After escorting Ouma to his dorm at damn near daylight, he went to his apartment and slept immediately. He didn't want to think rationally about what happened in that office just yet, the high of it still lingered.
But now it was early Tuesday morning, 3 full days after the encounter. He didn’t want to see Ouma in class after what happened without them talking about it, it would’ve been a dick move. Even if he did push it to the very last day.
He convinced himself it was to make his explanation short and not get distracted.
And yet the dull ache in his pelvis made him reminisce touching and being inside Ouma– that was enough.
How could he have been so careless? Hooking up with a student, in his own office no less! While true, it wasn't that immoral, seeing it was university and Ouma was a little older than most, it still felt insanely unprofessional.
Saihara wanted to blame it on Ouma seducing him, he always felt invited whenever they made eye contact— no. He wasn't going to push the blame onto another.
He had been keeping an eye on Ouma ever since he met him, from first glance he knew that what he saw was something special.
Ouma was an attentive student; challenging him at the right times to make class more interesting and get others to pay attention; asking intriguing questions and staying on top of his class…
He also dug up his criminal record because what else do you do when you have access to legal sites and are interested in someone?
Turns out Ouma had done a solo infiltration into the gang that Saihara had been insisting was real, but nobody listened. He was the one to make their existence known to the public, but before that, indirectly Saihara himself.
Feeling seen in such an indirect way, knowing Ouma had the exact same suspicions he did and acted on them… It made him happy. Too happy. It ensured their compatibility in a deep way.
Because of that Ouma had spent 2 years neglecting academics, explaining his age. But experience like that in the field was absolutely priceless.
Saihara was hooked. He had never met someone like him.
It didn't help how Ouma was also… very pretty to look at. Saihara hadn't felt proper attraction in years. Don't get him wrong, he has had past relationships before. They just hadn't worked out because of his passion in his career.
In short, he thought his libido had died on him in his pursuit of becoming a great detective. And was proven incredibly wrong in an embarrassingly short amount of time.
An attempt was made to dull his gravitation towards Ouma when he let him assist on a decently important case instead of being an insider. He obviously had field experience, but who knew how he acted in actual professional settings.
He found that most people showed their true colors then. Being too flimsy under pressure, lack of creative thinking, arrogant mannerisms towards helping staff and or the victims' families— But, of course, Ouma had to have done everything infuriatingly well.
His personality and style made the victim's family more comfortable sharing information with him; his witty mind came up with the most unique ideas for motives… Oh, he could go on and on.
But he didn't want to make him any cockier.
There was some minor attitude towards other detectives from him, but nothing undeserved. Saihara loosely scolded him about the issue and praised him for what he had accomplished.
He knew he was done for when he saw Ouma's sincerely happy and proud grin. His traitorous heart immediately melted.
Which is how Saihara found himself sitting on his couch, trying to ease his nerves.
Saihara also felt a little guilty when seeing his thighs shake with soreness back then. The time gap between their interactions should’ve been enough for him to recover.
He was not about to let there be a chance of being overheard at campus, so he invited Ouma to his home to talk in privacy under the pretense of a cold case to test him on anyone else.
Well he was planning on doing that eventually, and it came as a handy excuse. He was smart enough to have earned it.
He was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard his doorbell ring. After a deep breath to calm himself, he went ahead and opened the door.
Ouma stood on the other side, smiling up at him with mirth in his eyes. He wore a black long sleeve that was symmetrically low cut, shoulder to shoulder, with a lace cami top underneath. On the lower side he had on dark, washed out jeans and a cute belt.
Not to mention accessories of course.
The delicate fabric highlighted his exposed collarbone beautifully, he noticed some healed piercing holes under the bone that weren’t obvious enough to see in the dim lighting back then.
Saihara tore his eyes away as soon as he realized he was staring, "Ah, come in."
Ouma let himself in and closed the door behind him, taking his shoes off near the door and making himself at home. He had been to Saihara's apartment once before, when the professor was injured from a culprit's assault to deliver papers.
And maybe he brought a homemade bento box for him as well, but that was just him being thoughtful! The man had his palm stabbed, he probably couldn’t cook.
Ouma plopped down on the couch and crossed his legs and waited for Saihara to join him, not bothering to hide his smugness.
He leaned back against the cushions, resting his arm onto of it and leaning his cheek against his hand, "So~, a cold case, huh… That's what you called me over for?"
"Y-yes. I figured you were ready to take it on, and it'll give you less time management stress with upcoming finals—"
"Are we going to talk about Friday or what?"
Saihara shouldn’t have dismissed the variable of Ouma's bluntness, "...I wanted to ease into it."
He had to bite back the scolding remark that rose to his tongue as he saw Ouma roll his eyes. As if it was a bad thing for him to not jump to talking about their taboo rendezvous immediately.
"What we did was… wrong. I wasn't thinking right and behaved very unprofessionally."
He was given a blank stare before Ouma wordlessly moved to sit on his lap. Saihara made an attempt to speak but cut himself off when his face was held, "I don't really appreciate you saying our little meeting was a mistake."
"You haven't been thinking "right" for a while now, professor."
His breathing quickened and pupils dilated, Ouma couldn't be good for his heart.
"Ouma, seriously—"
His breath was taken away as, this time, Ouma initiated the first kiss. And Saihara was way too weak of a man to resist.
He kissed back with fervor, wrapping one arm around his back and pulling him closer. Their French kissing made filthy wet noises that worked wonders at turning them both on.
Ouma separated their lips with a pop and ground down on Saihara's erection, grinning at the shaky breath Saihara took.
"There's too much going on in the wrong head, Saihara-san… So how about instead of thinking with–" He kissed his temple, "this, you think with–” Ouma snuck his hand over Saihara's pants and palmed him, “this?"
"You're a succubus that's tempting me into hell." Saihara breathed out, resulting in a giggle.
He abruptly stood up with both his arms supporting Ouma's rear, who in return wrapped his legs around his hips and arms around his neck after letting out a little yelp. He planted kisses on Saihara's face to distract him as he was carried into the bedroom.
"This is your bedroom, huh? Kinda barren, suits you— oh wow, this bed is really soft!" He exclaimed in surprise, running his fingers through the fabric as Saihara lifted the blanket and placed him onto the mattress.
"It's Egyptian cotton. While I don't sleep much, I should at least sleep well."
Ouma snickered a bit at the fanciness of it, "And you're willing to let bodily fluids possibly stain it?"
"Yes." Was the only thing Saihara mumbled before kissing him quiet, more tenderly this time.
Back in his office, he didn't have a chance to appreciate Ouma's body as much as he truly wanted to. They were in a high risk environment. But now, they were in the comfort of Saihara's home. The door was locked and there were no possible intruders.
Saihara kissed the corner of his lip and moved down to his neck, sucking hickies onto the skin that were similar to the ones on his own.
He nuzzled his nose against Ouma’s subtle Adam's apple, feeling the vibrations of his accelerated breathing. While doing so he swiftly removed the stud earrings that decorated his lover’s ears.
He moved off of him to admire his work, "Strip for me?"
Ouma felt like being bratty, just for a little while.
He earned it, after all. After they hooked up, Ouma hadn’t been able to orgasm with satisfaction on his own. He still felt edged even if he came, which was the opposite of what a guy who masturbated to relax wanted!
Feeling intense sexual frustration from the same guy whose assignments he was doing was a unique experience.
“But I just had my nails done… you can’t expect me to risk breaking one–”
Ouma’s attention quickly went to how fast Saihara unbuttoned his outer top and tossed it aside, he really was good with his fingers…
Saihara felt smug at how Ouma raised his arms without any objection, quickly taking the inner shirt off to leave his top half bare. His body felt so sensitive in his hands.
He started at the nipples, pinching and twisting them before going along his ribs and landing on the V-line. It made Ouma shudder, the hairs behind his neck standing up.
How was he supposed to do anything but admire the beauty in front of him? His thin waist and flat stomach, lovely rosey nipples and those hips. He never wanted to let him go.
He wished he could tease him for how desperate he seemed to be, but he was definitely not any better.
Saihara wasn’t the type of man to masturbate, not as of late at least. He was too focused on his career to let himself indulge in pleasure.
So he found himself shocked in post-nut clarity one night after he had cum into a fleshlight at the sole thought of Ouma. Guilt washed over him, especially after realizing how it was definitely one of the best orgasms of his life.
He nicknamed Ouma his guilty pleasure after that, later on the nickname turned into succubus.
“Take a picture if you want to ogle for that long.”
Saihara snapped out of his not ogling, admiring and took the belt out of the pant loops, “Sorry. May I?”
Given the impatient nod, he swiftly took off Ouma’s jeans, along with his socks. The only thing still on him was his panties.
Ouma, of course, wore lace ones again, but this time it was black and fully mesh aside the gusset. Black satin ribbons decorated each side, snug against his hipbones.
It was a present, unironically at that.
"So pretty for me." Saihara whispered as rubbed Ouma's clit with two fingers through the thin covering.
Ouma’s legs immediately tensed up as he curled them for a better passage for the pleasure coursing through him, he never could stay still. Quiet and loose noises fell from his lips as he closed his eyes and tried to control his breathing.
He needed to alleviate the tension in his core before he exploded. The recovery days he was given only made him needier.
God, he missed the lack of control so badly. It felt like relearning how to properly masturbate, he always hated having full control on his orgasm and that part came back in full swing.
Of course Saihara noticed it, that bastard. He should have confronted him way sooner, being this desperate in front of his professor, again, was humiliating. Did he have a kink for it–?
His thoughts were interrupted as he felt calloused fingers sneak under the mesh to move down from his clit to his wet folds, teasing them before slowly penetrating.
Saihara curled his digits and caressed his g-spot tenderly. At the same time his palm gave Ouma room to grind on.
Ouma sighed and moaned freely under him, he missed the feeling of Saihara inside him way too much. He could probably write an essay about how perfectly they reached his sweet spots.
He didn’t think of himself as the type to enjoy such care during sex. Living life chasing dopamine had conditioned him to quick fixes, if only he had met Saihara sooner.
"Would you ride my face?"
Ouma’s breath hitched. He was so perplexed by that hunk of a man, he wanted to choke him. Or… given this opportunity, suffocate him.
"Absolutely."
They switched positions, Saihara laid on his back with his head below the pillow and Ouma hovered over his face
He slid his panties down his thighs to above his knees slowly, giving Saihara a show and the same desperation he felt, before tossing them onto the pillow.
Seeing hesitation flicker in Ouma's eyes, he quickly assured, "Use your full weight, you're light."
Ouma blushed and took a small breath before sitting down on Saihara's face. He made embarrassed noises as Saihara licked the slick surrounding his cunt and sucked on the swollen clitoris.
“Ah-! Fuck!”
He grinded down desperately, rocking his hips on Saihara's lips and nose. He felt his thighs shaking around his head as he rode his face properly, moving up and down slightly whilst pushing forward and back.
Saihara all the while ran his tongue over or sucked at his bud and gave light penetration with his tongue whenever he could to encourage the coming climax.
Ouma orgasmed with a loud gasp, wheezing out Saihara's name. He rode his high with Saihara still lightly nibbing at his sensitives while cleaning up the sticky mess.
“Godddd I needed that… haa…”
Saihara, even with the throbbing boner that was tightly bound by his pants, was glad to have pleased Ouma. He almost wanted to grab Ouma’s things for him to stay put on his face, but he let him move off and sit on his lap.
Only then did he realize how the lower half of his face was covered in slick. He licked it off his lips and wiped the rest away with his arm.
He was quickly taken by surprise by a heated kiss from Ouma, their tongues reuniting as he felt the jean fabric above his erection get wet.
Slight embarrassment did wash over Ouma as he realized he was fully naked while Saihara was still clothed.
Ouma yanked Saihara’s shirt over his head and sucked over the faded hickies, making them bloom to the original color they were. His hands drifted to his lower abdomen, his pulse quickened as he traced the outline of those soft abs.
“H-hah, wouldn’t lying down be more comfortable?”
“Probably, but I’m just fine in your lap. Let me have some fun too~.”
He made quick work to toss Saihara’s jeans and boxers into the growing pile of clothes beside the bed. But before he could impale himself, he was interrupted.
“Wait! We don’t have to rush into it…”
Saihara reached to open the last drawer of his nightstand to grab lube and a condom–
“Don’t you dare.” Ouma hissed, he did not wait for this to feel Saihara through a layer of plastic! He smiled as the wrapper was immediately put back and the drawer closed.
He went to lube himself up. The second he removed his hand, Ouma sank down to the base of his erection and pushed Saihara to lay on his back..
Saihara gasped in pleasure at the tight feeling of Ouma’s velvety walls around him again, he held his hips tightly as he started to move up and down. His nails scratched Saihara’s upper arms.
He squeezed around him at perfect intervals, pulling him out almost fully before shoving himself back down and it was driving Saihara crazy.
Saihara’s climax was fast approaching, Ouma could tell from how much his dick twitched against his walls. And when it was on its brink, Ouma sat down and rested against him. His ass comfortable against Saihara’s hips.
“P-please, Ouma–” He was quickly cut off, “Ah ah! This is karma for edging me last time. Oh what was it you said, “Not yet”?”
An excuse was going to escape Saihara’s lips before he was kissed silent again, “Be a good boy and wait.”
God if that didn’t go straight to his dick. Ouma snickered at how violently the erection jerked.
He kissed up Saihara’s neck back to his lips, pressing their chests flushed together as their lips met again and again.
Saihara felt up the lovely arch his spine had to bend down and kiss him. The other hand kneaded his thigh and lower ass.
“You make me way too needy…” He panted against his lips, eyes shining with lust.
Saihara’s handle on him tightened, “D-do you have any idea what you do to me? The constant teasing and flirting– I’ve never had to restrain myself so much.”
Ouma grinned widely at that, it was his main goal to fluster Saihara as much as he could, “You don’t have to now.”
He was right. He didn’t need to hold back how much he craved him anymore. How much his teeth itched to sink into that pale skin.
Saihara pushed Ouma to lay down on his back and held his wrists in one hand above his head. He gnawed on his trapezius, working down to his chest. He bit around his nipple and sucked a dark bruise onto a spot diagonal to it.
His hands would probably leave bruises on his hips too.
All the while he hadn’t pulled out fully. He kissed Ouma again as he thrusted inside. Ouma’s face melted in pleasure and satisfaction of getting what he wanted. His shaking legs were wrapped tightly around Saihara’s hips.
Their noises mixed together each time their bodies met in a melody of filthy noises. The pace quickened the closer he felt to the tight knot in his abdomen snapping.
Saihara’s grip on him faltered near the end and Ouma snuck his hands out to grip and scratch down angry red lines down his back, making his professor hiss in both pleasure and pain.
He made sure to thrust in a way that Ouma’s bud would receive stimulation.
As romantic as it sounded, they reached climax together with him still slowly thrusting. Saihara’s seed spilled in Ouma as Ouma’s cum created a sticky mess between them.
They heaved together for a dozen or so seconds before He attempted to pull out, only to be thwarted in his plans as Ouma pressed their bodies back together.
“Uh uh.” He murmured quietly, moving his arms to hug Saihara instead.
“Can I clean us up later at least?”
“...Finee.”
—
Ouma woke up with a tired yawn, his back was killing him… He checked the clock only to see “5:45 PM” displayed in glowing text. He sat up fast and was punished with a harsh sting of pain that shot up his spine.
“I can’t be late–!” He panicked before realizing he never kept a clock on his nightstand. He looked behind him to see Saihara rubbing his eyes and looking at him in confusion.
Right. Yes. How could he have forgotten?
“Saihara-san~, I hope you don’t mind me being a little late to class?” He grinned.
“Don’t be ridiculous, I cancelled it right after we showered. I’m not letting anyone see us like this.”
Ouma laughed and snuggled back into the soft sheets, laying half on top of Saihara to give him a lazy kiss. It was reciprocated with a smile and an arm around his waist.