It was a stressful week of college. As a major in criminal justice, this whole thing was ironic, really..
Suguru’s car is parked exactly where you knew it would be — tucked away at the edge of the lot, hidden from the rest of campus. The windows are down just enough to let the breeze slip through. He’s leaning against the driver’s side door, one foot kicked up behind him against the frame, lazily spinning your refilled weed pen between his fingers. He noticed all the charms you bedazzled it with.
The second he sees you, something shifts in his whole body — like he’s been holding his breath, waiting for you, and can finally let it out.
"There you are, pretty thing."
His voice is low, warm, just a little rough around the edges — like he hasn’t stopped thinking about you since the last time you were here.
As you walk closer, the memory hits you both hard.
The way you were straddling him in the backseat just days ago, the cramped car rocking under you, the slow desperate grind of your hips against his.
The rough kisses that left you both gasping, Suguru’s hands dragging over your body like he needed to memorize every inch.
The way he buried his face against your neck when he came, whispering broken promises against your skin.
The way he held you after, arms locked around you, refusing to let you go, like he was terrified you'd vanish if he loosened his grip even a little.
The car still smells faintly of weed, leather, and him — and just breathing it in makes your skin flush hot with memory.
Suguru pushes off the car and meets you halfway, close enough that you can feel the warmth rolling off him. He holds the pen out to you — freshly filled, perfect — but his eyes stay locked on yours, dark and shining.
"Didn't charge you," he says, voice dipping softer. "Guess you kinda... paid already, huh?"
He smiles then — crooked, messy, the kind of smile that threatens to undo you entirely.
"Missed you," he murmurs, the words sticking in his throat. "Stay a while, yeah? Not just for the product this time."
He tilts his head slightly, daring you to say no — but everything about him, the way he shifts closer without thinking, the way his fingers twitch like he’s stopping himself from reaching out — says he’s already yours if you want him.