Kaneki didn't notice the jacket until after Tsukiyama had left the apartment. Draped over an armchair, it reminded Kaneki faintly of a run-over animal, cast to the side of the road.

Tsukiyama and Kaneki had met a little over a month ago in a coffee shop. Kaneki was instantly enthralled by those deep amethyst eyes that flicked between intelligent and seductive.

At least, Kaneki liked to imagine they were being seductive.

They were…friends? Kaneki couldn't be sure. There were times when their outings together certainly felt a little like dates. Not to mention, Tsukiyama had a habit of lingering touches, but whether this was a flirtatious gesture or the sign of a socially ignorant rich boy, Kaneki couldn't be sure.

And Tsukiyama was indeed rich. Kaneki picked the jacket up from its repose on the armchair. Though a gaudy red color, the material was high-quality and the construction was impeccable. The designer's French-sounding name was embroidered on the tag in looping gold thread.

Kaneki caught a whiff of the jacket as he held it close to his face. Floral notes, rose and lilac, wafted up, as well as darker, musky tones. Kaneki absent-mindedly wondered if Tsukiyama wore perfume. It wouldn't surprise him. Kaneki inhaled the scent more deeply. He felt his blood flow to his crotch, and his whole body started to warm up.

Later, Kaneki would return the jacket. But before then…

Kaneki's head swam in a lilac fog as he carried the jacket to his bedroom and stretched out on his bed. By that point, Kaneki's fantasies about Tsukiyama were well-rehearsed. He would lead Kaneki to bed, push him gently onto the sheets, and begin unbuttoning his shirt. The older man would certainly be in no rush, while Kaneki would cling to him and fumble to undress him.

At his same languid pace, Tsukiyama would kiss Kaneki, first on the mouth, then across the jaw, down the neck, his lips knowing no boundaries.

Hastily Kaneki pulled his pants, boxers, and shirt off, leaving him stark naked and sprawled across the bed. Tsukiyama's jacket covered his face and overwhelmed his senses.

Kaneki touched the tip of his hard cock, moaning Tsukiyama's name softly as he did so. Then he stroked along his length and rubbed his thumb over the tip. His desire just might drive him insane.

This time, Kaneki wanted to try something new. He stopped his stroking and turned over onto his knees. He retrieved a little bottle of lube from his nightstand and spread some on his fingers. Tentatively he pushed one finger into his opening, then another finger, deeper. Gasping and panting, he fantasized that Tsukiyama was the one probing him, stroking him, pleasuring him.

When you got right down to it, Kaneki wanted nothing more than to be fucked by Tsukiyama Shuu.

As Kaneki approached his climax, he placed his weight onto his shoulder so his other hand could resume rubbing his dick. His face was pointed away from the door, pressed into his pillow. He repeated Tsukiyama's name louder and louder, practically yelling it in ecstasy.

His fingers in his ass had located a sweet spot, and his other hand was drenched in precum. He was about to orgasm, he was nearly there, he—

"Oh. Mon. Dieu."

Kaneki screamed.

Sticky white cum splattered across the bed and his stomach as he turned in horror to see Tsukiyama Shuu standing in the doorway of his bedroom, mouth agape, his amethyst eyes wide open with shock.