Tōkan is probably literally incapable of resisting Inori when he begs like that, now. He tosses the already-opened condom aside then pulls Inori up to hold him by the legs and finds his way to Inori's (sopping wet) entrance.

He gasps in surprise when he's so easily lifted up but fuck that's hot. He wraps his arms around Tōkan's neck and buries his face in Tōkan's shoulder so he can whine some more into his skin.

The front of Tōkan's shirt is going to get full of precum but if Tōkan didn't want that he shouldn't have picked this position.

He accepts the consequences of his actions. Right now he's just thinking Inori, my Inori, my love, I love you, I love you so much, I need you while he tries to muster enough concentration to guide his dick into his boyfriend.

Then he gets it in and all but slams Inori down onto his hip.

Inori cries out in pain and pleasure and is honestly too far gone to do anything but cling and cry and feebly move his waist in half-hearted humps.

Tōkan can source all of the necessary humps, here; he can lead this whole parade. "Inori, Inori, Inori," he moans, again and again and again, barely sensate. "My Inori, mine mine mine, all mine, fuck—"

"Oh, oh, oh, yes, Tōkan-kun, I'm yours, all yours, oh—"

Which is the most Tōkan can get right now in terms of coherence from Inori.

Inori comes before Tōkan does, and Tōkan's shirt is absolutely, completely ruined, now, between the sweat and the blood and the dirt and the cum. But he doesn't care, he doesn't care, all he wants is his Inori, his Inori.

He comes, and comes, and comes, and it's Inori's name on his lips when he does, a long cry of it, followed by a faded, "I love you, I love you so much, Inori, my Inori," which, whoops, maybe not the most appropriate time to say that but he's not really in a condition to give a shit.

They keep going for a bit still, and Tōkan comes once more while Inori comes three times, but eventually both Tōkan's knot and Inori's heat subside enough that they're left standing there, panting, Tōkan still inside Inori but slowly getting soft again. At some point they shifted positions so that Tōkan was behind Inori and Inori was facing the wall (and Inori moaned loud enough on Tōkan's way out and then back in with his knot that he's pretty sure the whole block must've heard it), but now all they're doing is holding themselves up, holding onto what little stability their shaky legs still have.

But he doesn't want to be out here, exposed to the elements, any longer, especially now that his post-heat clarity is being very clear about what they just did.

"We should go to my place."

"...I, uh, I don't think I can face your parents with my T-shirt like this."

Inori turns around, letting Tōkan's cock flop the rest of the way out of him, to look at Tōkan's shirt then at his face. "What's wrong with it? I've come home with dirty T-shirts before."

"It's caked with your cum, love."

"So?"

"...Inori-kun, Harutsugu is going to skin me alive if I arrive at your place while I'm looking like this."

"Take it off, then."

"—getting there shirtless is not much better!"

He looks down at Tōkan's legs then back up at his face. "Worse than going there bottomless?"

Tōkan rolls his eyes. "My pants are fine."

"How do you even manage to not just break out of your pants with that thing between your legs anyway?"

—he starts giggling. "Very good fabric. Alphas and our cocks aren't a new problem."

Inori goes for his underwear and shorts and starts putting them on. "Is every alpha that big?"

"...I'm above average by a reasonable amount but not, like, incredibly exceptional or anything. Have you never watched porn with alphas in it?"

"I don't watch porn."

Tōkan's pants are still around his ankles so he has an easier time putting them back on.

"No porn? Not at all? Never?"