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Satomi is at that age where none of his emotions make any sense. Add to that a Yakuza for a father, and he was always bound to end up this way.
Learning about said father was one of the most pivotal moments of Satomi's adolescence. Now it's an old hat. A throwaway backstory to explain why he has near endless access to guns and cigarettes.
Well, almost near endless access to guns, anyway. Satomi's broken into his father's safe once or twice in the past, but the new lock his dad put on there has been giving him trouble. Not to mention, if he tries to bypass it more than three times and fails, it sends an alert to his dad's phone. Annoying.
At least he has cigarettes. Satomi likes smoking them on the veranda of their apartment. It's nicer than the home Satomi shared with his old family before his dad decided it was time to step up and save him from a world burning around him. Without his parents, all he had left was Kyouji.
SLAM!
Shit. He's home.
Satomi quickly puts out the butt and fans himself before running back into his bedroom, leaving the entrance to the veranda open. He buries himself in his futon with his phone, keeping an ear to the ground.
Footsteps. They're approaching the veranda. The sliding door shuts and latches closed. Footsteps. They're getting closer.
Satomi's bedroom door swings open. He hears his dad sigh.
"You've been smoking again."
"What? No I haven't."
Satomi sits up, glaring at the man who barged into his room without so much as a knock. His biological father, a man he calls by his first name, because he's not much of a father figure at all.
Kyouji Narita. The kidnapper who ruined Satomi's life.
"Really. You haven't."
Kyouji doesn't ask, merely repeats Satomi's words in a sarcastic drawl. His gaze drifts over to Satomi's schoolbag.
"What would happen if I looked in there right now? Would I find anything incriminating in there?"
Satomi furrows his brow. "I don't know, would you? I don't go looking through your stuff, so don't go looking through mine."
Kyouji Narita's glare is stone cold and frightening. Even now, Satomi finds himself affected by it.
"You know that isn't true." Kyouji calls him out, kneeling down to Satomi's level. By the time Satomi reaches to grab his bag, Kyouji and his longer limbs have already gotten it, undoing the zipper and feeling for the pocket on the inside. He's meticulous about it, like he's doing work instead of parenting. Satomi can't look him in the eye.
Neither of them are surprised when he pulls out a familiar box. It's the same brand his beloved father smokes, after all. That's all he seems to care about as he pulls it out, ignoring the other contents within.
"Satomi." His voice makes his skin crawl.
"Kyouji."
"You're terrible at hiding things from me." Kyouji narrows his eyes. "And yet you bother."
"You'll punish me regardless." Satomi shrugs, trying to reach for his backpack again. Kyouji holds onto it tighter, his eyes looking inside. Satomi pretends he doesn't notice, praying that reality will give him a break. "I might as well try to put it off—"
"...What the fuck are these?"
He pulls out a few condoms. Condoms that definitely aren't Satomi's size. Suddenly, he's squishing them in his palm, almost like the sight is too offensive to bear.
"Got them passed out at school. Sexual education." Satomi lies without flinching, looking away. "It's not a crime for a teenager to have condoms."
"I don't think these fit you."
"Creep. How would you know?"
Volleying back and forth is getting them nowhere. This only ends one of two ways. Kyouji gives up on trying to be a parent and leaves Satomi alone, or he exacts the same punishment as always. A list of chores, some extraneous exercise, and maybe a slap if Satomi's lucky.
Kyouji drops the condoms and unbuttons his jacket with two fingers. He reaches out and grabs Satomi's arm.
"...! Hey!!"
Before Satomi can react properly, he's being pulled out of bed and onto his stomach. Kyouji's lap is underneath him, the man positioned with his legs criss-crossed as he pulls down Satomi's pants. Underwear and all.
"W-What are you—"
Satomi can't seem to choke out the last word before Kyouji's hand strikes down hard and fast on his ass.
"Ghkkk!!!"
Holy shit...Holy shit.
"If these punishments aren't enough anymore, maybe this will teach you."
SMACK!
Satomi's whole body jolts as he's treated to a Yakuza special. Kyouji is full blown spanking him, right on Satomi's tush. He grits his teeth and closes his eyes, the pain stinging through his eyeballs.
Another hit, measured in counts of five. No hit lasts long enough to fade on their own, compounding with each slap. Oh, God, it hurts.
Satomi shudders. It hurts so much. He clenches his fingers together, digging his nails into his palms. He grits his teeth and closes his eyes, trying desperately to remind himself not to lean into Kyouji's arms as he's held down.
It hurts. It's scary how much it hurts.
"...I-I haven't even..."
Satomi tries to defend himself. For his efforts, Kyouji shoves a few fingers into his mouth, shutting him up.
I haven't even used them, I was just being safe—you know, in case a guy I actually liked wanted to pull me over his lap to spank me!
All he can do is bite down on Kyouji's digits enough for it to hurt him. A dissatisfied grunt escapes the man, and Satomi is given another round of painful hits.
He feels like he's going to die. He can barely breathe, choking on his fingers like he's some kind of whore instead of a son. His body has never hurt so much.
I'm going to die... I'm going to die...
Somehow, when he finally pulls out his dripping fingers, all Satomi can utter is something that pisses the man off even more.
"P-P-Pervert..."
"You're the one with massive condoms in your bag," Kyouji flatly states. Satomi can hear his disappointment without having to see his frown. "You could've bit my fingers off. Instead, you sucked on them like a little freak."
"...W-What?" Satomi's eyes widen. "What the hell are you talking about?!"
His father pulls him by the hair, forcing his gaze down. He can't see a thing, and the only thing he can feel is...
Oh. So this is just one of those nightmares.
This isn't real. Kyouji wouldn't do something like this to me, no matter how much I misbehave.
Those soaking fingers are touching at his hole, exposed and wanting—no matter how quiet that desire may be. His dick is hard between his legs, and he knows for a fact that Kyouji can feel it, too. He doesn't even have to press them inside for his body to have a reaction.
"...You really are messed up, Satomi." Kyouji moves his hand to squeeze one of his ass cheeks, watching intently as the boy over his lap quivers and squirms. "I'm your father. What's it gonna take for you to see me like it?"
"N-Not... this..." Satomi weakly whimpers, biting the side of his cheek. "Not doing this to me... Y-You're... sick..."
Kyouji repositions himself, sliding Satomi's legs off his lap and instead forcing the boy onto his knees while his head remains pushed down onto the floor. He has a few seconds to try and run out while Kyouji puts himself behind Satomi, but he doesn't risk it.
This is just a dream, after all. A terrible, terrible dream that Satomi can't understand why he hates waking up from so bad.
"Unbelievable." Kyouji's hand spreads Satomi's ass cheeks, letting out a humorless chortle. "You're practically saying you won't be able to see me as your father at all until you regret the fact that you can't. Is that what we have to test here, Satomi? How long will it take to make you wish you didn't take things this far...?"
His fingertip plays at Satomi's entrance. Satomi bites his lower lip and forces down a moan. His ass still hurts, and all it's done is relax his muscles down there. He holds his breath as Kyouji pushes the digit inside.
"F-Freak." Satomi sniffles, finally managing a word. "Y-You're touching your own son's insides."
"Your anus is winking at me." Kyouji shoots back. "Dragging me in. You're not even fighting this off."
No, he's not. Satomi knows that better than Kyouji ever will. The real Kyouji, anyway. If the real Kyouji were doing this...
Ha. Fat chance of him paying close enough attention to care. All his punishments amount to Kyouji trying to build up Satomi's character in place of real affection, or even trying to be a real dad. If he just took Satomi out every once in a while, treated him nicely, maybe...
"Ngh!!"
A second finger enters. God, it feels so real. Satomi must have taken lots of cough medicine before this nap.
"W-Why are you doing this?" Satomi asks the delusion, clutching his fingers around the comforter below. "Do you... want to make me cum, Kyouji? Do you want to see me like this?"
Kyouji grunts, pulling his fingers out just to force them in again. Again and again and again, all while Satomi whines like a little girl beneath him.
"...I wanna teach you a lesson," Kyouji replies, simple as. "A lesson you won't learn until I'm tearing you apart."
"K-Kyou—"
He gasps. These fingers are killing him, ripping him from the inside out. He doesn't relent, just keeps making Satomi feel like a toy for his pleasure. All because of a stolen cigarette pack...
No, though. It was more than that, wasn't it? Those condoms, the "just in case" ones that Satomi never imagined he'd even be bold enough to find a guy to use them with—everything was as it was until Kyouji had even the slightest idea that Satomi was whoring himself out, and now, he has his virgin son in a position like this.
Stupid, stupid, Kyouji...
He can't believe he's related to such a monster. Can't believe he's wanted this monster more than anything, anything in the world. Even as he makes Satomi break, the boy finds himself arching his back, a thick bead of precum rolling down his dick for Kyouji to rub across it.
Two fingers inside of him, and a hand wrapped around his cock. His father is punishing him, and he doesn't even realize how little of a punishment this really is. Nothing is going to get him to stop this, so why is Satomi fighting? It's as if some part of him refuses to give in. That same part of him refuses to call Kyouji "Dad."
"...Y-You're just jealous..." Satomi finally accuses him, biting back moan after moan. "Y-You thought about me having sex with someone other than you, and it made you jealous... You're such a horrible dad..."
Just as he is a horrible son. It's almost like they belong together.
Maybe this is how they were always supposed to be.
"You want me to use one of 'em, then?" Kyouji grunts, small hairs falling across his face as he exerts more himself into fucking Satomi with his hand. "Show you just how little they fit you?"
All this time, Satomi's felt what he thought was his father's thigh underneath his own leg. Now he realizes that it's grown too much to be that.
"I don't think they'd fit you either."
Satomi glances back, trying to get a proper look at the expression on Kyouji's face. He's not completely emotionless this time.
"'s probably fine though, right? I mean, so long as you haven't had unprotected sex in the last sixteen years, that means we should have the same diseases anyway. Right?"
Kyouji bites his lower lip, and pulls his fingers out. The emptiness consuming Satomi turns into a black hole, sucking in the atmosphere of the room. All this tension, a ticking time bomb waiting to explode, and here's the culmination of it.
Kyouji waited too long to put himself back into Satomi's life. Now all Satomi can think of when he sees the man is just how much their bodies seem to resonate against one another.
The clink of a belt buckle coming undone. A button popping open, and a zipper going down. These quiet noises are catastrophically loud to Satomi's ears. He clings to the sheets below, and holds his breath as he feels something huge and dripping press against his gaping anus.
"...Ha... Y-You're really gonna do it." Satomi swallows and closes his eyes. "You're gonna put it in me. You're gonna put your dick in me and fuck me."
Acceptance looms large oppressive in Satomi's mind. All these months of nightmares are culminating together into one, sick fantasy where Satomi gets to feel like Kyouji actually cares enough about him to fuck him. He braces himself.
Kyouji pulls back, his touch nowhere to be felt. Then the real nightmare begins.
"...Kyouji?"
Satomi lifts his head, turning back to see Kyouji pulling his pants back up quickly as he stands up.
"W-Where are you going?"
Kyouji tries to make it out the door. He's stopped as Satomi lunges onto his leg, holding him down.
"N-No, why are you...?!"
"Why are you chasing after me?"
Kyouji looks down, more emotion on his face than Satomi can recall ever seeing on it. He's broken out into a cold sweat, and his lips are curved into a seemingly perpetual frown. Satomi shudders.
He doesn't have an answer for him. Not one he'd be able to voice without feeling nauseous. Getting lost in the heat of the moment, it's so different from coming right out and admitting what you've wanted all along. Kyouji's forcing Satomi to bear that burden, and he hates it.
He squeezes his leg as hard as he can, pressing it to his chest, leaning his cheek against it. Holding onto him like a son would upon seeing his father trying to leave him behind. It isn't dissimilar, but it's so much worse. Satomi reeks of desperation, half-naked and teary. Kyouji is a moment away from kicking him down.
"I-I don't want you to go," Satomi cries, shaking his head. "Please... Please don't leave me..."
"...Satomi." Kyouji forces his hair back into place, brows drawn. Satomi doesn't know what he's thinking. "I'm not... Fuck. I'm not leaving you, I'm getting the hell out of here before I do something to you that I'll regret."
He says it as if he already does. What part of it does he regret, then? Barging in on Satomi? Calling him out for smoking? Going through his stuff in the first place?
Or maybe it's just his reaction. He couldn't hold back, and Satomi's paying for it. With desperation coursing through his veins, he reaches up and forces down the man's pants by himself. It's all too easy, even with Kyouji reacting with such offense.
"Stop," he warns, stepping back, and forcing Satomi's clinging body to drag. By the time he hits the hallway wall, Satomi is already sitting on his knees, forcing his father's half-hard cock out of his underwear.
"Do you regret taking me in?"
Satomi presses his lips to Kyouji's cock. The man tenses, his legs shaking. He grabs onto Satomi's hair, his grip strong enough to pull the kid off, but he just can't seem to do it.
"Do you regret bringing me into this world?"
"Satomi..." Kyouji tries looking away from the moment, only to return his gaze as Satomi teases the tip with his tongue. "Fuck. No, I don't—I regret bringing you into my world, but I don't regret you being born. You've... You've always been precious to me."
Satomi pulls his mouth off his father's cock. In this moment, he's managed to wrest more power from the man, and yet his heart could shatter with a single wrong tug. He holds back his tears, and ignites his fury instead.
"I don't believe you."
"...I know."
Satomi returns his lips to what they were doing, clumsily attempting to take Kyouji down his throat. He can feel the way the man sighs through his pulse, salty precum staining Satomi's tongue.
"...I wish I didn't have to take you away from your real family."
Kyouji's hand in Satomi's hair stops pulling as hard, instead dropping down near the boy's ear. He gently caresses the cartilage.
"The only good I've ever done for you was give you life, then ruined that by taking the good parts of that life away." Kyouji's expression grows more somber as his cheeks fill with color. "I just wanted you to be safe. To give you space to grow up on your own without having me around to fuck it up for you. My madness shouldn't be your burden to bear. I'm sorry."
Satomi pops off his mouth before he can bite down. Fuck. He can't stop the tears flowing down his face.
"Stupid." Satomi pushes his head against the man's hip, Kyouji's cock pressing up against his cheek. "H-How am I supposed to be happy if my own dad doesn't even act like he loves me?!"
He may as well despise Satomi, because that's how Satomi feels. Even when he's like this, kneeling and begging for a taste of his own father, he knows in his heart that Kyouji doesn't have room for him in his own. Getting behind him, fucking him with his fingers and pushing closer, closer, that was the closest Satomi had ever gotten to feeling loved. Kyouji took that away from him.
"Stupid... Stupid Kyouji..." Satomi's tears mix with his saliva and Kyouji's cum over his cheek, but he doesn't run. "I just want you to love me...!!"
Satomi opens his throat as he pulls him in. Inch by inch, little by little, feeling the heavy weight on his tongue. With Kyouji's fingers buried in his hair, he feels like he can do anything, so long as the man doesn't pull him off. To do so would be to abandon Satomi. How unbelievable that Kyouji allows him this.
"...I love you, I love you—I love you so much, Satomi."
Liar, liar, liar. He's nothing but a liar. Satomi cries harder, shakily looking up into Kyouji's eyes. He's been staring down at Satomi all along.
"You mean everything to me, which is why I need to be shot." He chuckles under his breath. "I'm so fucking selfish for wanting you to do this to me."
"Y-You're not..." Satomi pulls off of him with a gasp. "You're not selfish enough...!!"
When he takes him in again, the last thing he expects is for Kyouji to comply. The grip on his hair offers the perfect leverage for Kyouji to move his hips and fuck his throat, and he takes the opportunity, disgust be damned.
Satomi is virginal, but he's desperate, so he takes what he can, choking on his own saliva and precum while the rest of it rolls down his chin. He can feel the head of Kyouji's cock at the back of his throat, and it's mortifying, but simultaneously everything he's ever wanted and more.
"...Is this really the only way?"
Kyouji lets go of Satomi's hair, and Satomi's burning throat pulls back enough to catch his breath. As he does, Kyouji cups Satomi's chin in his palm, tilting his head back to force their gazes to meet. Satomi hates how sad Kyouji looks at him.
"H-How else would you show me you love me that doesn't involve abandoning me?"
The guilty look in the man's eyes says it all.
There's a bridge of saliva between Satomi's lips and Kyouji's cock. No matter how much Kyouji tries, he'll never be able to retreat from the distance he made here today. He might as well go all the way.
...That's what Satomi's hoping for, anyway. If he chooses to, he can still escape Satomi. Hurt him in the only ways he's actually made Satomi hurt. Abandon him. Leave him to rot in this apartment by himself. Give him free access to all the cigarettes and guns in the world until it blows up in Kyouji's stupid face.
Kyouji lifts his leg, and Satomi feels his whole world crumble. That is, until he realizes Kyouji is fully stepping out of his pants, dropping his underwear with them.
He then does something even more inexplicable. He sits down, leaning against the wall, legs spread out. He grabs Satomi by the waist, and pulls him into a tight embrace.
"Nn..."
Satomi is pressed up against Kyouji, his cheek squished into the man's shoulder. The arms wrapped around his body are firm as the chest below, a wall of security Satomi can only recall feeling once when he was rescued from his burning home.
In spite of their bare legs touching, Satomi doesn't know what to feel in this moment.
"...I don't want a simple hug like this." Satomi verbalizes to the best of his ability. If this moment is meant to be platonic, he doesn't know how to handle the fact that their cocks are touching.
"I know."
Kyouji reaches between their bodies, and begins plucking away at the buttons of his shirt. Satomi feels the fabric spreading underneath him, his hands reaching underneath to touch the skin there directly.
The large hand on Satomi's back slips underneath his shirt, groping along his spine. The boy shudders uncontrollably. This, he wants.
"...I wish you'd stop acting like you hate this..."
Satomi leans into his touch, closing his eyes.
"Just because you're ashamed..." He bites his bottom lip, shivering as his fingers roll down his spine. "I want you to act like you love me... I want you to show me your love, Kyouji, even if it disgusts you..."
Especially if it does, he doesn't need to add. He became brutally obvious from the day he started stealing from his father and smoking behind his back. Anything for some attention, anything to feel like his father gave a damn. He's been holding back, and now that Satomi knows why...
He never wants to experience that hell ever again.
"Shoulda been born your lover instead of your father." Kyouji shakes his head, pulling the boy's shirt up and over his head. "Shoulda taught you better than to give in to freaks like your old man."
"...But I just want you."
He wants Kyouji to believe that. If nothing else, for him to understand that he's only ever wanted Kyouji.
He's always wanted this terrible father in his life, always craved his touch, all because he never provided it. His desire turned to something more.
"Kyouji..."
Satomi shudders, his body gently rocking against Kyouji's own. He can feel how hard he is, their dicks fitting perfectly together in this sickening embrace. He could stay like this for forever, or he could do something more. Take initiative, and show Kyouji just how deeply his own love really runs.
"...Dad," he finally says, lifting his hips and using his hand to guide himself over his father's length. "Daddy..."
Kyouji doesn't stop him. Kyouji does one better, reaching underneath Satomi and spreading his cheeks so Satomi can slot onto him easier. As he feels the head of Kyouji's cock press against him, Satomi's cheeks grow hot enough to burn the tears off of them.
"...It's not a race, son." Kyouji whispers. "Take your time. I'm not going anywhere."
Satomi opens his eyes. Kyouji is captivated by the sight of their joining bodies, removing his hand once it's unnecessary. He instead uses it to caress Satomi's cheek, rubbing his thumb beneath the boy's eye.
Lower, lower. Satomi sinks lower onto Kyouji's shaft, until there's no more room to fit. Satomi closes his eyes, shaking from just how much more it hurts than he thought it would. Nothing compares, but nothing compares to being alone either. He's so full of his father that it stings, but he'd rather that ache then to be by himself.
"...Satomi, look at me."
Satomi opens his eyes.
"Daddy..."
"It's going to be okay." Kyouji is smiling. Soft, comforting. An odd look on such a stone-faced man. "I promise. It's going to be okay. You're safe now. You're with me. Daddy's here, so just..."
Kyouji grabs onto Satomi's hips, then sinks against the wall, angling himself.
"Just hold on, okay?"
Satomi is transported back in time. The day of the fire. The day his life went to hell, and Kyouji was his saving grace. A time when Satomi thought the world of the man who held him close through falling ash and debris. His savior...
"Daddy...Ah...!"
Kyouji helps him lift his hips up. Then, with all the strength built in the man's abs and arms, pushes them together again mercilessly.
"Daddy...!!"
His savior. His father. Everything in between. The man he loathes, and the man he loves. The man who makes everything in his life harder without even having to try. The source of Satomi's greatest stressors, but equipped to handle him better than anybody. Satomi isn't asking for much, after all. He just wants his father to love him.
"...Son," Kyouji whispers, watching as Satomi rides his dick like a wife instead of a child. The sight of him is addicting, and Satomi can feel it—he can feel the way Kyouji is looking at him in this moment, and it's enough to make him high. "Fuck... You're doing so good..."
"I-I want to be good for Daddy," he whispers, "I want... I want to be good enough so you'll love me... Love me, Daddy..."
"I love you, son." Kyouji waits a moment before fucking up into him again, simply caressing his cheek and gazing lovingly into his eyes. He can't look away, and neither can Satomi, no matter how fogged up his glasses may be. "I love you so much... And I'm a horrible father for never being able to prove it to you."
"...You're proving it to me now, though." Satomi claws into Kyouji's back, lifting his hips and meeting the man's own. "Haah... Just... Just like this, you are... You're making me feel so loved, Dad..."
Only his big, strong father could hold him like this, fuck him, while also pulling him in for a kiss. Neither of them can resist, their hearts pulling them towards each other without any sign of stopping. A father and son shouldn't kiss each other like this, so why does it feel so perfectly right when they do it? Satomi is already growing addicted to the taste of his father. He doesn't want to go another day without being reminded of it.
Their bodies move as one, locked in a dance Satomi has only ever dreamed about while his father takes the lead. Kyouji's hands are guiding their every motion, bringing his son's hips down while he bucks into him from below.
Satomi can just barely take it, but he'd take worse from Kyouji. He'd take anything at all if it meant them being this close.
"Nnn—haaah, Daddy..."
Their lips slip from each other, Kyouji's mouth moving south. With Satomi raised above him, it's easy for the tall man below to reach the boy's nipple. He sucks on it gently to start, getting progressively more mean about it as he swirls his tongue around the tit.
"Mmmnnghh!!"
Satomi digs his fingers into Kyouji's hair, not even caring that his thrusts have slowed down. They're still together. Kyouji's just being a merciless tease.
As he sucks, his hand slowly rises and slaps down over Satomi's ass, gripping the bruised fat.
"O-Ow..."
Kyouji pops off Satomi's nipple with a sweet suckling noise, meeting his gaze.
"Are you okay?" He asks, hurried.
"M-Mhm." Satomi quickly nods, kissing Kyouji's forehead. "Just hurts when you do that."
"Oh..." Kyouji feels where his hand is, expression falling. "Oh. Right. I'm sorry."
He tries to move his hand away. Satomi pushes it back down.
"I don't care if it hurts." He insists with a sniffle. "Don't let go of me. No matter what."
Upon hearing that, Kyouji does something inexplicable. He smiles. Not the creepy, fake smile he puts on when he's trying to pretend he's a put-together adult. A real, genuine smile so small that it's blinding.
"Alright. I won't."
Satomi hugs his head tight as he can, pressing the man's face into his shoulder.
"You better keep that."
Kyouji responds with a kiss to Satomi's skin. Then, as he resumes their rhythm, just as Satomi's getting into it, his dad takes things a step further.
He bites Satomi. Right on his shoulder, using all the strength in his jaw.
The pain-induced pleasure that made Satomi get to this point frays and expands until his tiny body can't take it anymore. He cums with a shriek, head rolling back and completely lost to the moment.
He barely even recalls orgasming, collapsing into the puppet his father needs to get off. When Kyouji slams Satomi's hips down for the last time as he cums, Satomi can't seem to let go of him.
They lay like that for a while, Kyouji's dick slowly deflating as Satomi's walls chase it. They're as close as two people can be, completely stuck together.
For all his protest from earlier, Satomi doesn't want it to end.
"...Can't we always be like this, Kyouji?"
"...Wouldn't that be nice, son."
He doesn't answer him explicitly, just rubs his back and holds him while he speaks. Satomi closes his eyes.
He wakes up in his father's bed. The man is smoking a cigarette without the window open.
"...Let me have a drag," Satomi begs like a child, clinging onto the man who didn't even bother putting on his clothes.
"You're too young." Kyouji turns to look at him, a frown on his face that quickly breaks. Such a genuine smile on his face makes Satomi yearn to see it more, disagreements aside. He really cares for him...
More than anything in the world. That's why he clings to him tighter, tighter, even when he's being told "no."
Funny, how it's easier to discipline a child when they actually feel loved. Kyouji ought to feel satisfied in that, even if he's buried in shame.
"...I love you, Dad." He nuzzles his face into the pit of his arm, taking in the musky smell. "Let's shower together when we get up."
"...You're too old for that," he retorts. "But... I'll think about it."
That's all Satomi needs to hear.