[ teeth in his skin bring his hips to a trembling halt, the first bright pinch of pain causing him to gasp — and the dull ache and Gojou's sucking mouth follow with a low and appreciative moan, trembling where he's precariously perched in his lap. his grip tightens on them appreciatively, squeezing just to feel their shape against each others', eyes lidding low as Gojou asks him a question that spirals possibilities. ]

[ it's not a bad time to show him. his hands break free, going to Satoru's shirt to pull it back down over his chest, his gaze sweet and innocent. ]

Then I mean no. [ fingers find Satoru's cock and his seat raises up; he tucks him back, instead of keeping both of them rubbed together, Gojou's dick is nestled between the cheeks of his ass — a far more sensorial experience when Getou drags his hips and his cockhead nestles against the soft, pliant flesh of his asshole. ]

You'll have to trust that I intend to make up for it with something even better. [ he rolls his hips again; the flange of his head catches on rippled skin, pressing ever so slightly into increased heat. ] Can you do that for me?