[ no sooner than Suguru's had the chance to whisper kanpai has Gojou emptied the ochoko and made himself a mistake. the laughter that follows from Suguru is the resigned sort, what comes from living with someone and knowing them almost as well as they know themselves. it's too late to warn him now, so instead he'll just take a sip and put it back on the table, turning to tend the idiot's pride. ]
[ his t-shirt's thin. that's the thought he has as he starts petting his chest, encouraging some of that cough and burn to go away with his own warm, exploratory touch... and after a beat, it occurs to him that he's better off with skin-to-skin contact, and so slips his hand right up the front of his shirt. ]
You're meant to enjoy it slow and savor it. [ these are the words of a lesson, but not the tone of one; Suguru's voice his too low, his eyes too lidded. his fingers don't intentionally brush up against a nipple when he's trying to lecture him, either. ] ...But sometimes I have trouble pacing myself, too.
[ his gaze flickers down and his hand follows it, fingertips caressing over the center of abs, settling at the top button of his jeans... and when he looks back up, gives it a tug, pulling the waist open. ]
Oops. See what I mean? [ bet he's not coughing now. ]
[ he hides the wet cough behind his sleeve, annoyed at himself and fully expecting a gentle lecture - not quite what he receives in the hand that gets tucked down his shirt so helpfully. oh. ]
Suguru! [ satoru blushes, inhaling a sharp breath as he stares at suguru, eyes sliding down to the hand in his shirt - and he swallows around the lump in his throat. ] Yeah?
[ suguru's hand trails down, twitching, taught muscles in its wake. gojo is exhaling harder already, choking a noise in his throat when the button of his pants pops open at getou's command. satoru's mouth is suddenly so dry no amount of sake could quench it. the arm around suguru's waist slides down, fingers slipping lower and cupping around the curve of his ass to tow him in closer to satoru's chest. ]
I think I'm getting it. [ satoru's mouth presses the affirmation to suguru's ear, nuzzlimg his nose against the shell of it through his dark hair. he loves it down, loves that suguru knows as much too. ]
[ a reply like a predator, elated his prey has decided to give another circle around the enclosure. if Satoru gets it, then he'll proceed, dunking back the rest of his sake in short order so as not to fall behind. he doesn't cough or fluster... if anything, it tastes so clean and fresh in comparison to the curses he swallows every day. he leaves him to his exploring and pawing as he pours them two more cups, abandoning them at the table's edge and swatting Gojou's hand away if he goes for it. ]
[ instead, he rearranges himself. it'll be a while before their food comes, the middle of dinner rush with something precise and fragile like sashimi; he straddles Satoru's lap and pushes him back, a hand on his chest until he's pinned to the tatami. Getou's raking fingers push up his shirt: a counterweight that sets the shape of his lap grinding over the fly of Gojou's jeans. when he tucks the shirt up at Gojou's armpits, he stills again, reaching back for the tokkuri. ]
[ cold sake on a warm night. the porcelain of the bottle is frigid, condensation beading low and dripping down; Getou rolls the bottom curve of it against one of Gojou's nipples, shocking it into hard, perked, and flushed, gaze flickering up at him from under dark and heavy lashes. ]
[ satoru reaches for the cup, pouts when suguru swats his hand away immediately. he'll drink it slow this time! but as it turns out, that doesn't seem to be the reason, a realization that comes too late and after suguru is already straddling his lap, pinning him down to the tatami.
he stares up at him, eyes bright and eager. he's not afraid of public indecency or anything like that - the thrill of it sending needles prickling down his skin from head to toe. there's a sharp inhale and twitch of his chest when suguru grinds down on his hips, shirt is bunched up to his collarbone, revealing pale skin, pink with flush. god. he asked him to be on his best behavior, but even gojo hadn't been expecting -
oh.
the tokkuri makes its way into suguru's skill hands, and satoru swallows hard. he sees it coming and still isn't prepared for the shock of the cold porcelain on his skin, arching up hard under suguru and biting his cheek to choke down a high-pitched cry. ] A-agh! Fuck!
[ he shudders underneath the roll, hips swelling to match it, exhaling hard to keep from crying out again. suguru peeks up at him and satoru looks at him, flushed and reproachful, but with zero interest in asking him to stop. ] suguru.
[ a soft parrot, shaky on its first syllable with the delightful way his hips are raising up beneath his throne, eyes bright and warm. he can't help it; it's impossible not to play with his food when Gojou looks so cute and... and a little pathetic, a little needy. a hand goes back, returning the cask to the table. ]
We keep ending up like this... [ if he's scolding anything here, it's probably his own lack of discipline. the liquor isn't helping, a ruddy heat on his cheeks and in his guts. Suguru takes his cup from the table and finishes what he started: pouring the drink out on Satoru's heaving chest. the wine pools on his sternum but runs south with the slope of his body. Getou heads it off between the wings of his ribs, drinking mouth and lashing tongue sucking up liquor from fair skin and replacing its chill, the falling tips of his hair tickling everything in his path. ]
[ he follows the hollows of Satoru's body still, running his tongue along the dip of his collarbone, the pulse in his throat — until he's kissing his way up the corner of his jaw to the corner of his mouth, smiling there like a cat who ate the canary. ]
[ another whine pours out of satoru in time with the chilled liquid spreading over his skin, chest heaving from the heady combination of thrill and intense sensation. suguru is there to meet the stream, lapping it up and sucking the pools of clear, shimmering sake from satoru's sternum.
the coarse, smooth strands of his hair tickle his chest and sides, making him squirm underneath suguru's mouth. he's such a damn tease!
suguru moves up, trailing kisses up his chest and neck, following the line of his jaw to his plush lips, and satoru doesn't wait for him to finish his sentence before he's smashing their mouths together, licking the taste of the sake from suguru's lips and tongue greedily - since he so cruelly denied satoru his second glass anyway.
when he pulls back, satoru pants open-mouthed and considers suguru. ]
Is there a reason we should do anything about it? You seem to be enjoying yourself...
[ he's so perfect and pale and pretty under him, skin flushed and nipples pointed up just begging for attention; he can feel Satoru's cock nestled up against his own and growing thicker with need. those jeans do indeed leave so little room to the imagination or for the taking, his kimono much more forgiving... not that he's making use of it when Gojou's forcing a soft groan at him with his kiss. ]
[ there's the flavor of sake still on his tongue, too. kissing Gojou practically drives him dizzy, sucking on the curious invasion of his tongue. it sends him driving his hips down again, eager to prove Gojou's words true. ]
[ he still laughs at them. oh, that's just like Satoru.... ]
I am. I just think we need to make some rules. [ Suguru knows his aversion to the word... but the clicking teeth of his jeans fly going down hopes to interrupt his complainants, fingers pulling open and peeling denim flaps apart as far as they will go. ] The kind of rules you'll enjoy.
[ fingers dig in; Satoru's cock is hot and turgid in his hand. a few shifts of fabric and his own joins it, pressing them together with his surging hips, his large fist wrapped around — stroking them both with a sweet little sigh of relief. ]
Things like... you aren't allowed to touch yourself— [ an emphatic squeeze, ] —without thinking of me.
Tch. Fuck rules. [ satoru's face curls into a sneer at the mention of rules - he hates rules. suguru knows he hates rules - but he's distracted enough by the tug of his zipper down, down, until the relief of the extra space has him shivering full-body underneath suguru. ]
Fine, fine. What kind of rules??
[ ahhhh fuck - his head goes fuzzy as soon as suguru gets his hand around him, hips surging up to rut into suguru's grip, the slide of the two of them against one another wringing another sweet whine from his lips. ]
Who the hell do you think I'm thinking of when I jerk off other than you, at this point, seriously.
[ his hand slinks up suguru's thigh, underneath the lightweight kimono, groping at his thigh and his ass. ]
[ warm hands, heated lap, hotter tongue tangling with him at that admission — at least, Suguru doesn't think he meant to kiss him until his mouth is already there, sliding their tongues together with a lidded gaze while his hips roll in Satoru's grip. the undersides of their dicks roll and grind together, intent to swallow those pretty little moans it inspires while his thumb smears precum across both of their tips — his, Satoru's, fingers forming a sticky connective line between the two of them. ]
[ shivery and delightful. he sucks on his bottom lip and rears back again, free hand collecting Satoru's still-full cup from the table. ]
...Yeah? [ maybe he just wanted to hear it, to tilt his head and gather his hair to one side, pressing the cup to a pounding column of his throat and beckoning Gojou in to take a drink. the collars of his kimono have come loose, given him plenty of room to drink from sternum to collarbone to jugular. he doesn't particularly care if he doesn't get all of it so long as the heat of his mouth bits back the chill. ]
Then I guess I'll have to be more cruel. [ is that what he is, when he moves his hand up and down both of them again. ] Don't come without asking me.
[ satoru kisses suguru hot enough to sear, just to drive the point home. he's a teenage boy, he's expected to have a girl as his phone screen. it's not like he doesn't find both genders attractive anyway, but the only person he's imagined when putting his hands on himself for months - longer than he'd admit to suguru even now - is his best friend.
the way he purrs satoru's name when he wants to get him to behave or be more polite is enough to drive him to orgasm from friction alone.
he whines softly, hips stirring under suguru when that calloused finger rubs into the crown of him, nails digging hard into suguru's hips. ]
Yeah, dumbass. It's only you... you should know that. [ or maybe satoru should tell him more often, because suguru purrs that he'll need to be more cruel, and it has a shiver working down satoru's spine down to his tailbone. he exhales in heavy pants, shoulders heaving as suguru strokes over them again. ]
Hah? [ wait - what? he's dazed from suguru's fingers working them, the scent of the sake against his skin. ] ..I have to ask?!
[ really, the issue here is that it's incredibly, mind-blowingly hot to imagine having to ask suguru permission to come. even more to imagine him denying that permission. fuck.
fuck fuck fuck - has he mentioned how completely wrapped around suguru's finger he is? how happy he is to be there? satoru leans in and presses the flat of his tongue against suguru's collarbone, drags it up his pulse to lap up the sake greedily, tongue and lips scouring his tanned skin to get every drop, sucking him clean. it's already going to his head, because satoru can't hold his liquor at all, but it's worth it for the molten, hazy heat that washes over him, pools where he and suguru are joined. satoru rocks his hips, grinds up against him and pushes his kimono open further with little regard for anything else happening in this restaurant. he wants every bit of suguru he can get his hands on. ]
[ Suguru shudders and stretches high as the tongue on his skin chases cold liquor, one arm wrapped around Satoru's shoulders as he draws near, embracing and keeping him near; he doesn't want to let him get too far, preferring to grind and rut his hips down in the small space they can barely stand to have between them. he goes seeking skin and Suguru obliges, hot and heavy with it, giving the boy's scalp a tug just so he'll bare his teeth against something, somewhere. ]
Always. Every time. [ because he wants Satoru to understand the significance of this commitment, his hand wrapped around the front of his throat, tilting his head back to look at him. blown-black find blue, and Suguru licks the seam of his mouth in time with a naughty roll of his hips, squeeze of his wet fist across both of them, just to watch his face twist with pleasure. ]
If I'm not there, call me. Beg me over text if you have to... [ the brush of his cheek to Satoru's is like one cat nuzzling against another — but it takes the deep, dangerous tinge of his voice right to his ear: ] But if you spill a single drop without my permission...
[ threats are better left to the imagination — Satoru has a good one — and his tongue traces the shell of his ear like a brand. ]
[ satoru pants noisily against his skin, groans against his pulse when suguru grips a fistful of his hair and tugs it. his teeth find suguru's neck and he bites down hard, sucking around through his teeth to leave a purpling bloom in their wake.
his pants shift to open mouthed as he looks up at suguru, eyes lidded heavy as he grips satoru's throat and pushes his chin up, commands that satoru ask every time. always. he whines at the tongue along the seam of his lips, rocking up to meet suguru, fingers pawing at his ass through the motion. his lashes squeeze shut when suguru squeezes them, another noisy groan tumbling out. ]
What if... what if you tell me no? [ Calling him to get off when they're apart? That's only during missions, or when suguru goes home to visit his family. both are just as exciting, imagining his hushed voice telling satoru when to come, or texting him discreetly under the dinner table to wait.
satoru never goes home, but he might consider it just to mess around like that under his family's nose. ]
[ 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?
[ satoru is still reeling from the delight of getting suguru to tremble in his arms from that bite, the sweet sound of his moan ringing in his ears.
it's all taken away in he blink of an eye as suguru releases them, tugs satoru's shirt back down and peers back at him like he wasn't just palming their cocks together and making satoru drink sake from the river of his pulse. the words no have a tight pout forming on his lips, but he glances down and shiver when suguru shifts their position, slips his length between the curve of his ass and drags it there with a rock of his hips that has satoru unraveling at the seams all over again. ]
Haa-ah! Nghh fuck. Suguru. [ satoru's hips jump up immediately, answering the call of suguru's hips and rocking messily against him. he nods, flushed and obedient in response to suguru's question. his fingers curls around suguru's ass, grinding up against him and pressing in just a little more. ] Mmhm. I can do it!
[ what comes from it is a sweet hiss, a hungry hum in his throat. an enthusiastically obedient Gojou always gets his blood going, always makes him want to devour him in the best way — and so the reward comes when Suguru allows himself to be breached and the wonderful tang of pleasure and pain that comes with it. his back arches out of cause, hands going backwards to find Satoru's knees... ]
[ and he sinks ever so delicately where Gojou has his hands on him, rocking down incrementally on his cock. it's rough and dry and catches but he sort of likes that about it, how just the crown of him pulls apart flesh and muscle and forces it to yield to him, to have his hips sweet and stuttering on the end of him. ]
Satoru... only the tip... [ his fingers grip the fabric of his jeans as he pulls off, grinding his teeth as he pulls off again, Satoru's dick catching on that tight ring of muscle as he moves over it — ]
[ and he's just about to sink down again when there's a knock at the door. he flinches, looking at his best friend... and then a brilliant beat of crimson overtakes his face, stupefying him into stillness. what... what do they do... ]
J-just a moment, please.
[ you know he's down bad when he doesn't even want to crawl off of his lap. ]
[ satoru's forgotten anyone else exists in this moment, between the soft hum of suguru's throat and the needy rock of his hips as he pushes himself down onto satoru, pulls up and then repeats the motion, their bodys rolling and pressing together in a teasing dance.
suguru's hips roll up, drawing a soft gasp out of both of them when he warns satoru only to press the tip in - and then a knock comes to the door.
bright, wide blue eyes snap to attention, staring back at suguru and watching his face turn a splendid shade of red. it's a good look - the rare occasion when suguru is taken completely off guard.
it's fine. he's looking after suguru, isn't he?
satoru's mouth curls into a smirk and he grips suguru's hips, pushes him down to continue he motion until the tip of his cock presses in. he shifts carefully, guiding suguru as much as he can to sit next to him, until they have the appearance of being sat next to one another, even though suguru is more or less in his lap still, back pressed against satoru's chest. he quickly straightens suguru's kimono, tucks him back in carefully before calling for the waitress to enter.
they look cozy, but not necessarily up to no good.
it's lucky that she was embarrassed by suguru's earlier possessiveness, because the girl barely makes eye contact with either of them, hurriedly placing the spicy somen and the sashimi plate down. a quick bow and she's exiting the room as quickly as she came, leaving them alone one again. ]
You got flustered. That was cute. [ satoru purrs appreciatively, rocking his hips. ]
[ should've known. Gojou's 'care' often comes at a price he sometimes isn't sure he's ready to pay, and his eyes narrow with fierce warning as soon as he sees that smirk. voice a hurried whisper, he tries to warn caution: ]
Satoru, d- ah! [ distracted by the situation, the sensations of being stretched and filled are almost overwhelming, set his body alight as it punches a few wet beads of precum to dampen low on Satoru's belly. there's squirming and more gritting of his teeth as Gojou rearranges them, hot heavy pants he's trying to get out without being heard through the thin doors — and when Gojou calls her in, he presses a hand to his mouth, looking stubborn about a refusal to speak. ]
[ and truthfully, he can't meet her eyes either. he's still flustered, leaning back and gasping when she's left and Satoru can't even give him the slightest break. ]
I can't believe you... [ and yet he isn't any less turned on by it all, resting his head back on Gojou's shoulder and spreading his legs over his lap. his head turns, hand raising to fist white hair and bring him in, face still hot and flushed as he licks the other man's mouth open. ] God, I wanna fuck you so badly right now.
[ even though he's the one being teased relentlessly inside of his kimono. he uses the leverage of spread knees to roll again, dragging him shallow until it's just the very tip of him pressed up, only to sink down again and let gravity do as much work as it can, burying another inch deeper. he's trembling, reaching his limit for what they can do dry, but Satoru must've come prepared for this, right? ]
[ a desperate look at him communicates the question. ]
[ satoru is nearly snickering by the time suguru finds his voice, looking down at the man he loves so very dearly despite his torturing, when suguru rests his head against satoru's shoulder.
satoru's hands shift to bracket his hips once more, kneading them gently until suguru grabs a fistful of hair and tugs him in, breath hot as they lick into one another hungrily, food all but forgotten. ] You wanna fuck me?
[ his voice hitches as suguru rolls down, pushing himself onto satoru as far as he can go dry, and he presses his mouth to suguru's ear, exhaling hot and trembling against it. ] Or you wanna fuck yourself on me?
[ the questioning look is enough for him to know, and he snorts, reaching into his inner coat pocket and pulling out a small tube, popping it up and spreading it onto his fingers. satoru shifts and reaches beneath the dark kimono, spreading and rubbing it around the puckered rim of suguru's ass, and down the length of his cock, rubbing at the joining of them to ease the slide. ]
Come on and fuck me before your fancy somen gets warm, Suguru~
[ the breath on his ear, the steady heat at his back, the hands slipping between them to roam and slick — none of these stymy the red on his cheeks or the molten flood in his veins, his legs instinctively spreading as fingers press and prod. he doesn't lift his hips so that Gojou can get the head of himself, instead twitching with the idea... ]
[ his hand follows his down, holding his wrist steady where it is. the teasing earns a scoff, but he has the right idea, turning his head to keep his face nuzzled in close to his neck. they don't do things like this very often, their roles naturally acclimatized toward the other direction, but neither of them have much qualm with mixing it up. ]
[ and Suguru supposes it must be hard for Gojou to resist him like this, sprawled in an arc over his body, weight leaned completely into him, shivering on his command, kimono rucked up around his thighs. and then his voice: ]
Put them in. [ strained, breathless. his legs spread more, inviting, rolling his hips towards Gojou's hand in a demand, for clarity. he's already half-speared on his cock, stretched out over his head, and now he wants: ] Put your fingers in, Satoru.
[ suguru is so sweet in his lap, with his head tucked against satoru's neck, legs spread around his lap. it's not the norm, but this is suguru's night to be pamered, and satoru's night to do it. he is impossible to resist anyway, in any composition, any arrangement, any way suguru chooses to show satoru that he loves him.
how impossible is that? that someone like getou suguru could love him this much.
he coos against suguru's ear, warm and deep - ] Ya sure? Haven't even stretched you out properly tonight.
[ but he obeys what he's told, a gift reserved only for suguru, and his fingers start working at the seam of the rim and satoru's cock. slow, teasing, and then quicker and firmer until his fingertips slip inside suguru, curving around himself to slick up the head and couple of inches already buried in him. ] God, I forgot how tight you are like this.
[ but it doesn't last long - satoru twists and rubs his fingers around himself, slowly buries them deeper inside suguru until he's slick inside him, easing the stretch and the push enough to sink a few more inches of his cock inside him with a slow, smooth roll upward. ] C'mon, let's get you feeling real good, Suguru.
[ the muscles inside that have become sensitive and twitching with arousal flicker more as he feels more of that invasive prodding, clumsy and yet somehow still erotic for it. Gojou has a direct, unbidden way of fooling around that he likes, an enthusiasm and shamelessness that inspires his own in turn. his fingers slip in and Getou gasps rough, chest hitching and burning in time with the stretch — ]
[ it's too much, which means its just enough. he watches, mystified as Gojou's hand disappears somewhere under the splay of kimono and his hard-on bobbing between it, a bead of precum dripping a saline line that keeps him connected to the tatami floor. Gojou finds his head and Getou moans long and low, head falling back onto his shoulder again as his back arches and his hips try to press down, down, as low as they'll go. it buries him deeper, but not completely. ]
Oh fuck... [ but then Gojou's stupid fucking hips take advantage of how much smoother it is now and he does bottom out, pushing a cry out of his panting, open mouth. his brows are pinched up and together as that deep, hard pulse of pleasure runs through him, making his thighs shake and weak and his eyes loose focus on... everything. it takes a moment for his words to register, for Getou to find his voice again. ]
Yes, please... so good... [ his hips roll mindlessly, keeping Gojou buried deep but pulling him out a few good inches, dropping back down on him with a mix of grace and desperation, trying to will his partner into that same rhythm. fuck himself on Satoru indeed. ]
[ getou loves gojo's stupid fucking hips - whether they're bottoming out his cock in getou's ass, taking everything getou can throw at him instead. he hasn't learned to be coy and cunning in this yet, too overeager with hormones and the thrills of first love, but he shows his appreciation for getou in all the ways he knows how.
gojo's mouth latches onto his throat, biting and sucking at the skin, feeling the vibrations of getou's sweet cry. his other hand traces the slope of the body he knows so well, down a well-sculpted chest, along the dip of his ribs and over the taught abdomen. gojo slides his palm under the already loose kimono, letting it fall open to reveal getou's aching, flushed cock, spread thighs. the sight alone has gojo shuddering, biting his own lower lip. ]
Mhm so good... You look so fucking good Suguru.
[ gojo's fingers splay wide over getou's inner thigh, travel further still to grasp at his balls and rub at them as he rocks his hips up to appease getou's will. it's easy to pick it up, with how well he knows getou's body - how flexible his hips are, how far his back can arch. there's a swell of their bodies before they fall into a rhythm, rocking together to plunge gojo deep into the velvet heat of getou, fingers teasing and working along with his cock to push into getou with each bounce of their hips. ] Fuck.
[ he starts to pant and whine in getou's ear, encouraging him to move with a tug to his balls. ]
[ as soon as Gojou's hand begins its descent, he knows exactly what he's up to; it draws his eye immediately, distracts him momentarily from the white-hot pulse of their rhythm. the way he bites his bottom lip in anticipation turns heavy panting breaths instead into low, quiet groans of pleasure drawn out over a few thrusts. his kimono falls open and his eyes track Gojou's fingers down his thigh, chancing a glance at his face in his peripherals. two voyeuristic little peas in a pod. he almost laughs. ]
[ jumps, instead, when that hand is on him with a squeeze, all of him clenching down. the throb of Gojou's hickeys on his throat join it all in a smear of burning points across his body, twisting it together with ecstasy, rocking hips ensuring Gojou bottoms out completely every time he pushes his hips up into him. slowly, the hand not tied up in locks of white pets down his own body, fingers and palm skimming warm over his abs — lower, just on top of his pubic bone, where the muscle goes taut and grips down on Gojou's cock mercilessly. ]
Fuck, it feels so full... Satoru-... Satoru.
[ the usual calm passivity to his voice has been sped up and made to twist with want and the delicious thrust of Gojou's hips that make his knees feel like jelly. in his rocking, squirming moans, he guides his mouth back to his, a hot and brief slide of tongues as he fucks himself on Satoru's prone lap. ]
Wanna watch me ride you? [ a mischievous question, eyes glittering dark as he laps his tongue on the corner of his mouth. ]
[ he hisses when getou's hand wraps around his cock, hips jerking forward at the sound of that purr. gojo swallows it along with each moan and whimper until suguru drags him in and kisses him, open-mouthed. his tongue is searing velvet, and gojo pushes in harder, kiss turning sharp and demanding until he pulls back with a gasp. ]
Oh my fucking god yes. [ is there any other answer to that? especially when getou's eyes are mischievous and his tongue keeps trying to glide against his lip.
satoru leans in and captures it, biting his tongue and sucking at it for a moment, giving his hips a sharp, rough rock upward. ] Sure you can finish before they come to take our real orders?
[ he smiles against his tongue, elated to have the permission to move, amused by the expression of it. it isn't easy for him to let Satoru have control of things for too long, even when it's been a frenzy built upon by mutual steps together. it's just so much more comfortable for him to be the dominating one in control, even when he's stuffed full of Satoru's cock and fingers. he grabs both of Satoru's wrists and pulls them onto his hips as he sits up, low beneath the bones and presses his grip hard into the juncture of his thigh. he'll need it. ]
[ a hand presses to his chest and pushes his back all the way down to the floor. it's easy to pull out his kimono and haori from between them, a thread in the eye of the needle between their bodies. Getou's up on his knees with his palms on Gojou's thighs, pushing them apart, and when he begins, he's so nicely seated all the way down on his cock. he stays straight-backed, keeps his hands on Gojou's knees, but rocks his weight up no his knees — ]
[ and as he does, Gojou gets the whole view of his cock pulled out of the resistance of his gripping hole only for him to sit back on it again, starting a dedicated bouncing rhythm of Getou riding him. his pace is rough and quick, making use of broad back and shoulder muscles and thick well-worked thighs. a hand sweeps his hair onto one shoulder and over the other, he twists to glance at him. ]
Do I look good? Satoru? [ that foul mouth of his doesn't run quite as dirty as Gojou's so easily, but it's just one of their minute differences that makes them so complementary. he gets there eventually. he doesn't want to think about anyone else in that moment, instead rebuffing Gojou's question with a desperate: ]
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bakerstreet2023-09-15 12:01 pm
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[ his t-shirt's thin. that's the thought he has as he starts petting his chest, encouraging some of that cough and burn to go away with his own warm, exploratory touch... and after a beat, it occurs to him that he's better off with skin-to-skin contact, and so slips his hand right up the front of his shirt. ]
You're meant to enjoy it slow and savor it. [ these are the words of a lesson, but not the tone of one; Suguru's voice his too low, his eyes too lidded. his fingers don't intentionally brush up against a nipple when he's trying to lecture him, either. ] ...But sometimes I have trouble pacing myself, too.
[ his gaze flickers down and his hand follows it, fingertips caressing over the center of abs, settling at the top button of his jeans... and when he looks back up, gives it a tug, pulling the waist open. ]
Oops. See what I mean? [ bet he's not coughing now. ]
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Suguru! [ satoru blushes, inhaling a sharp breath as he stares at suguru, eyes sliding down to the hand in his shirt - and he swallows around the lump in his throat. ] Yeah?
[ suguru's hand trails down, twitching, taught muscles in its wake. gojo is exhaling harder already, choking a noise in his throat when the button of his pants pops open at getou's command. satoru's mouth is suddenly so dry no amount of sake could quench it. the arm around suguru's waist slides down, fingers slipping lower and cupping around the curve of his ass to tow him in closer to satoru's chest. ]
I think I'm getting it. [ satoru's mouth presses the affirmation to suguru's ear, nuzzlimg his nose against the shell of it through his dark hair. he loves it down, loves that suguru knows as much too. ]
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[ a reply like a predator, elated his prey has decided to give another circle around the enclosure. if Satoru gets it, then he'll proceed, dunking back the rest of his sake in short order so as not to fall behind. he doesn't cough or fluster... if anything, it tastes so clean and fresh in comparison to the curses he swallows every day. he leaves him to his exploring and pawing as he pours them two more cups, abandoning them at the table's edge and swatting Gojou's hand away if he goes for it. ]
[ instead, he rearranges himself. it'll be a while before their food comes, the middle of dinner rush with something precise and fragile like sashimi; he straddles Satoru's lap and pushes him back, a hand on his chest until he's pinned to the tatami. Getou's raking fingers push up his shirt: a counterweight that sets the shape of his lap grinding over the fly of Gojou's jeans. when he tucks the shirt up at Gojou's armpits, he stills again, reaching back for the tokkuri. ]
[ cold sake on a warm night. the porcelain of the bottle is frigid, condensation beading low and dripping down; Getou rolls the bottom curve of it against one of Gojou's nipples, shocking it into hard, perked, and flushed, gaze flickering up at him from under dark and heavy lashes. ]
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he stares up at him, eyes bright and eager. he's not afraid of public indecency or anything like that - the thrill of it sending needles prickling down his skin from head to toe. there's a sharp inhale and twitch of his chest when suguru grinds down on his hips, shirt is bunched up to his collarbone, revealing pale skin, pink with flush. god. he asked him to be on his best behavior, but even gojo hadn't been expecting -
oh.
the tokkuri makes its way into suguru's skill hands, and satoru swallows hard. he sees it coming and still isn't prepared for the shock of the cold porcelain on his skin, arching up hard under suguru and biting his cheek to choke down a high-pitched cry. ] A-agh! Fuck!
[ he shudders underneath the roll, hips swelling to match it, exhaling hard to keep from crying out again. suguru peeks up at him and satoru looks at him, flushed and reproachful, but with zero interest in asking him to stop. ] suguru.
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[ a soft parrot, shaky on its first syllable with the delightful way his hips are raising up beneath his throne, eyes bright and warm. he can't help it; it's impossible not to play with his food when Gojou looks so cute and... and a little pathetic, a little needy. a hand goes back, returning the cask to the table. ]
We keep ending up like this... [ if he's scolding anything here, it's probably his own lack of discipline. the liquor isn't helping, a ruddy heat on his cheeks and in his guts. Suguru takes his cup from the table and finishes what he started: pouring the drink out on Satoru's heaving chest. the wine pools on his sternum but runs south with the slope of his body. Getou heads it off between the wings of his ribs, drinking mouth and lashing tongue sucking up liquor from fair skin and replacing its chill, the falling tips of his hair tickling everything in his path. ]
[ he follows the hollows of Satoru's body still, running his tongue along the dip of his collarbone, the pulse in his throat — until he's kissing his way up the corner of his jaw to the corner of his mouth, smiling there like a cat who ate the canary. ]
What do you think we should do about that?
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the coarse, smooth strands of his hair tickle his chest and sides, making him squirm underneath suguru's mouth. he's such a damn tease!
suguru moves up, trailing kisses up his chest and neck, following the line of his jaw to his plush lips, and satoru doesn't wait for him to finish his sentence before he's smashing their mouths together, licking the taste of the sake from suguru's lips and tongue greedily - since he so cruelly denied satoru his second glass anyway.
when he pulls back, satoru pants open-mouthed and considers suguru. ]
Is there a reason we should do anything about it? You seem to be enjoying yourself...
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[ there's the flavor of sake still on his tongue, too. kissing Gojou practically drives him dizzy, sucking on the curious invasion of his tongue. it sends him driving his hips down again, eager to prove Gojou's words true. ]
[ he still laughs at them. oh, that's just like Satoru.... ]
I am. I just think we need to make some rules. [ Suguru knows his aversion to the word... but the clicking teeth of his jeans fly going down hopes to interrupt his complainants, fingers pulling open and peeling denim flaps apart as far as they will go. ] The kind of rules you'll enjoy.
[ fingers dig in; Satoru's cock is hot and turgid in his hand. a few shifts of fabric and his own joins it, pressing them together with his surging hips, his large fist wrapped around — stroking them both with a sweet little sigh of relief. ]
Things like... you aren't allowed to touch yourself— [ an emphatic squeeze, ] —without thinking of me.
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Fine, fine. What kind of rules??
[ ahhhh fuck - his head goes fuzzy as soon as suguru gets his hand around him, hips surging up to rut into suguru's grip, the slide of the two of them against one another wringing another sweet whine from his lips. ]
Who the hell do you think I'm thinking of when I jerk off other than you, at this point, seriously.
[ his hand slinks up suguru's thigh, underneath the lightweight kimono, groping at his thigh and his ass. ]
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[ shivery and delightful. he sucks on his bottom lip and rears back again, free hand collecting Satoru's still-full cup from the table. ]
...Yeah? [ maybe he just wanted to hear it, to tilt his head and gather his hair to one side, pressing the cup to a pounding column of his throat and beckoning Gojou in to take a drink. the collars of his kimono have come loose, given him plenty of room to drink from sternum to collarbone to jugular. he doesn't particularly care if he doesn't get all of it so long as the heat of his mouth bits back the chill. ]
Then I guess I'll have to be more cruel. [ is that what he is, when he moves his hand up and down both of them again. ] Don't come without asking me.
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the way he purrs satoru's name when he wants to get him to behave or be more polite is enough to drive him to orgasm from friction alone.
he whines softly, hips stirring under suguru when that calloused finger rubs into the crown of him, nails digging hard into suguru's hips. ]
Yeah, dumbass. It's only you... you should know that. [ or maybe satoru should tell him more often, because suguru purrs that he'll need to be more cruel, and it has a shiver working down satoru's spine down to his tailbone. he exhales in heavy pants, shoulders heaving as suguru strokes over them again. ]
Hah? [ wait - what? he's dazed from suguru's fingers working them, the scent of the sake against his skin. ] ..I have to ask?!
[ really, the issue here is that it's incredibly, mind-blowingly hot to imagine having to ask suguru permission to come. even more to imagine him denying that permission. fuck.
fuck fuck fuck - has he mentioned how completely wrapped around suguru's finger he is? how happy he is to be there? satoru leans in and presses the flat of his tongue against suguru's collarbone, drags it up his pulse to lap up the sake greedily, tongue and lips scouring his tanned skin to get every drop, sucking him clean. it's already going to his head, because satoru can't hold his liquor at all, but it's worth it for the molten, hazy heat that washes over him, pools where he and suguru are joined. satoru rocks his hips, grinds up against him and pushes his kimono open further with little regard for anything else happening in this restaurant. he wants every bit of suguru he can get his hands on. ]
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Always. Every time. [ because he wants Satoru to understand the significance of this commitment, his hand wrapped around the front of his throat, tilting his head back to look at him. blown-black find blue, and Suguru licks the seam of his mouth in time with a naughty roll of his hips, squeeze of his wet fist across both of them, just to watch his face twist with pleasure. ]
If I'm not there, call me. Beg me over text if you have to... [ the brush of his cheek to Satoru's is like one cat nuzzling against another — but it takes the deep, dangerous tinge of his voice right to his ear: ] But if you spill a single drop without my permission...
[ threats are better left to the imagination — Satoru has a good one — and his tongue traces the shell of his ear like a brand. ]
Tell me you understand.
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his pants shift to open mouthed as he looks up at suguru, eyes lidded heavy as he grips satoru's throat and pushes his chin up, commands that satoru ask every time. always. he whines at the tongue along the seam of his lips, rocking up to meet suguru, fingers pawing at his ass through the motion. his lashes squeeze shut when suguru squeezes them, another noisy groan tumbling out. ]
What if... what if you tell me no? [ Calling him to get off when they're apart? That's only during missions, or when suguru goes home to visit his family. both are just as exciting, imagining his hushed voice telling satoru when to come, or texting him discreetly under the dinner table to wait.
satoru never goes home, but he might consider it just to mess around like that under his family's nose. ]
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[ 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?
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it's all taken away in he blink of an eye as suguru releases them, tugs satoru's shirt back down and peers back at him like he wasn't just palming their cocks together and making satoru drink sake from the river of his pulse. the words no have a tight pout forming on his lips, but he glances down and shiver when suguru shifts their position, slips his length between the curve of his ass and drags it there with a rock of his hips that has satoru unraveling at the seams all over again. ]
Haa-ah! Nghh fuck. Suguru. [ satoru's hips jump up immediately, answering the call of suguru's hips and rocking messily against him. he nods, flushed and obedient in response to suguru's question. his fingers curls around suguru's ass, grinding up against him and pressing in just a little more. ] Mmhm. I can do it!
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[ and he sinks ever so delicately where Gojou has his hands on him, rocking down incrementally on his cock. it's rough and dry and catches but he sort of likes that about it, how just the crown of him pulls apart flesh and muscle and forces it to yield to him, to have his hips sweet and stuttering on the end of him. ]
Satoru... only the tip... [ his fingers grip the fabric of his jeans as he pulls off, grinding his teeth as he pulls off again, Satoru's dick catching on that tight ring of muscle as he moves over it — ]
[ and he's just about to sink down again when there's a knock at the door. he flinches, looking at his best friend... and then a brilliant beat of crimson overtakes his face, stupefying him into stillness. what... what do they do... ]
J-just a moment, please.
[ you know he's down bad when he doesn't even want to crawl off of his lap. ]
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suguru's hips roll up, drawing a soft gasp out of both of them when he warns satoru only to press the tip in - and then a knock comes to the door.
bright, wide blue eyes snap to attention, staring back at suguru and watching his face turn a splendid shade of red. it's a good look - the rare occasion when suguru is taken completely off guard.
it's fine. he's looking after suguru, isn't he?
satoru's mouth curls into a smirk and he grips suguru's hips, pushes him down to continue he motion until the tip of his cock presses in. he shifts carefully, guiding suguru as much as he can to sit next to him, until they have the appearance of being sat next to one another, even though suguru is more or less in his lap still, back pressed against satoru's chest. he quickly straightens suguru's kimono, tucks him back in carefully before calling for the waitress to enter.
they look cozy, but not necessarily up to no good.
it's lucky that she was embarrassed by suguru's earlier possessiveness, because the girl barely makes eye contact with either of them, hurriedly placing the spicy somen and the sashimi plate down. a quick bow and she's exiting the room as quickly as she came, leaving them alone one again. ]
You got flustered. That was cute. [ satoru purrs appreciatively, rocking his hips. ]
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Satoru, d- ah! [ distracted by the situation, the sensations of being stretched and filled are almost overwhelming, set his body alight as it punches a few wet beads of precum to dampen low on Satoru's belly. there's squirming and more gritting of his teeth as Gojou rearranges them, hot heavy pants he's trying to get out without being heard through the thin doors — and when Gojou calls her in, he presses a hand to his mouth, looking stubborn about a refusal to speak. ]
[ and truthfully, he can't meet her eyes either. he's still flustered, leaning back and gasping when she's left and Satoru can't even give him the slightest break. ]
I can't believe you... [ and yet he isn't any less turned on by it all, resting his head back on Gojou's shoulder and spreading his legs over his lap. his head turns, hand raising to fist white hair and bring him in, face still hot and flushed as he licks the other man's mouth open. ] God, I wanna fuck you so badly right now.
[ even though he's the one being teased relentlessly inside of his kimono. he uses the leverage of spread knees to roll again, dragging him shallow until it's just the very tip of him pressed up, only to sink down again and let gravity do as much work as it can, burying another inch deeper. he's trembling, reaching his limit for what they can do dry, but Satoru must've come prepared for this, right? ]
[ a desperate look at him communicates the question. ]
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satoru's hands shift to bracket his hips once more, kneading them gently until suguru grabs a fistful of hair and tugs him in, breath hot as they lick into one another hungrily, food all but forgotten. ] You wanna fuck me?
[ his voice hitches as suguru rolls down, pushing himself onto satoru as far as he can go dry, and he presses his mouth to suguru's ear, exhaling hot and trembling against it. ] Or you wanna fuck yourself on me?
[ the questioning look is enough for him to know, and he snorts, reaching into his inner coat pocket and pulling out a small tube, popping it up and spreading it onto his fingers. satoru shifts and reaches beneath the dark kimono, spreading and rubbing it around the puckered rim of suguru's ass, and down the length of his cock, rubbing at the joining of them to ease the slide. ]
Come on and fuck me before your fancy somen gets warm, Suguru~
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[ his hand follows his down, holding his wrist steady where it is. the teasing earns a scoff, but he has the right idea, turning his head to keep his face nuzzled in close to his neck. they don't do things like this very often, their roles naturally acclimatized toward the other direction, but neither of them have much qualm with mixing it up. ]
[ and Suguru supposes it must be hard for Gojou to resist him like this, sprawled in an arc over his body, weight leaned completely into him, shivering on his command, kimono rucked up around his thighs. and then his voice: ]
Put them in. [ strained, breathless. his legs spread more, inviting, rolling his hips towards Gojou's hand in a demand, for clarity. he's already half-speared on his cock, stretched out over his head, and now he wants: ] Put your fingers in, Satoru.
[ more. just, more. ]
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how impossible is that? that someone like getou suguru could love him this much.
he coos against suguru's ear, warm and deep - ] Ya sure? Haven't even stretched you out properly tonight.
[ but he obeys what he's told, a gift reserved only for suguru, and his fingers start working at the seam of the rim and satoru's cock. slow, teasing, and then quicker and firmer until his fingertips slip inside suguru, curving around himself to slick up the head and couple of inches already buried in him. ] God, I forgot how tight you are like this.
[ but it doesn't last long - satoru twists and rubs his fingers around himself, slowly buries them deeper inside suguru until he's slick inside him, easing the stretch and the push enough to sink a few more inches of his cock inside him with a slow, smooth roll upward. ] C'mon, let's get you feeling real good, Suguru.
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[ the muscles inside that have become sensitive and twitching with arousal flicker more as he feels more of that invasive prodding, clumsy and yet somehow still erotic for it. Gojou has a direct, unbidden way of fooling around that he likes, an enthusiasm and shamelessness that inspires his own in turn. his fingers slip in and Getou gasps rough, chest hitching and burning in time with the stretch — ]
[ it's too much, which means its just enough. he watches, mystified as Gojou's hand disappears somewhere under the splay of kimono and his hard-on bobbing between it, a bead of precum dripping a saline line that keeps him connected to the tatami floor. Gojou finds his head and Getou moans long and low, head falling back onto his shoulder again as his back arches and his hips try to press down, down, as low as they'll go. it buries him deeper, but not completely. ]
Oh fuck... [ but then Gojou's stupid fucking hips take advantage of how much smoother it is now and he does bottom out, pushing a cry out of his panting, open mouth. his brows are pinched up and together as that deep, hard pulse of pleasure runs through him, making his thighs shake and weak and his eyes loose focus on... everything. it takes a moment for his words to register, for Getou to find his voice again. ]
Yes, please... so good... [ his hips roll mindlessly, keeping Gojou buried deep but pulling him out a few good inches, dropping back down on him with a mix of grace and desperation, trying to will his partner into that same rhythm. fuck himself on Satoru indeed. ]
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gojo's mouth latches onto his throat, biting and sucking at the skin, feeling the vibrations of getou's sweet cry. his other hand traces the slope of the body he knows so well, down a well-sculpted chest, along the dip of his ribs and over the taught abdomen. gojo slides his palm under the already loose kimono, letting it fall open to reveal getou's aching, flushed cock, spread thighs. the sight alone has gojo shuddering, biting his own lower lip. ]
Mhm so good... You look so fucking good Suguru.
[ gojo's fingers splay wide over getou's inner thigh, travel further still to grasp at his balls and rub at them as he rocks his hips up to appease getou's will. it's easy to pick it up, with how well he knows getou's body - how flexible his hips are, how far his back can arch. there's a swell of their bodies before they fall into a rhythm, rocking together to plunge gojo deep into the velvet heat of getou, fingers teasing and working along with his cock to push into getou with each bounce of their hips. ] Fuck.
[ he starts to pant and whine in getou's ear, encouraging him to move with a tug to his balls. ]
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[ jumps, instead, when that hand is on him with a squeeze, all of him clenching down. the throb of Gojou's hickeys on his throat join it all in a smear of burning points across his body, twisting it together with ecstasy, rocking hips ensuring Gojou bottoms out completely every time he pushes his hips up into him. slowly, the hand not tied up in locks of white pets down his own body, fingers and palm skimming warm over his abs — lower, just on top of his pubic bone, where the muscle goes taut and grips down on Gojou's cock mercilessly. ]
Fuck, it feels so full... Satoru-... Satoru.
[ the usual calm passivity to his voice has been sped up and made to twist with want and the delicious thrust of Gojou's hips that make his knees feel like jelly. in his rocking, squirming moans, he guides his mouth back to his, a hot and brief slide of tongues as he fucks himself on Satoru's prone lap. ]
Wanna watch me ride you? [ a mischievous question, eyes glittering dark as he laps his tongue on the corner of his mouth. ]
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[ he hisses when getou's hand wraps around his cock, hips jerking forward at the sound of that purr. gojo swallows it along with each moan and whimper until suguru drags him in and kisses him, open-mouthed. his tongue is searing velvet, and gojo pushes in harder, kiss turning sharp and demanding until he pulls back with a gasp. ]
Oh my fucking god yes. [ is there any other answer to that? especially when getou's eyes are mischievous and his tongue keeps trying to glide against his lip.
satoru leans in and captures it, biting his tongue and sucking at it for a moment, giving his hips a sharp, rough rock upward. ] Sure you can finish before they come to take our real orders?
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[ a hand presses to his chest and pushes his back all the way down to the floor. it's easy to pull out his kimono and haori from between them, a thread in the eye of the needle between their bodies. Getou's up on his knees with his palms on Gojou's thighs, pushing them apart, and when he begins, he's so nicely seated all the way down on his cock. he stays straight-backed, keeps his hands on Gojou's knees, but rocks his weight up no his knees — ]
[ and as he does, Gojou gets the whole view of his cock pulled out of the resistance of his gripping hole only for him to sit back on it again, starting a dedicated bouncing rhythm of Getou riding him. his pace is rough and quick, making use of broad back and shoulder muscles and thick well-worked thighs. a hand sweeps his hair onto one shoulder and over the other, he twists to glance at him. ]
Do I look good? Satoru? [ that foul mouth of his doesn't run quite as dirty as Gojou's so easily, but it's just one of their minute differences that makes them so complementary. he gets there eventually. he doesn't want to think about anyone else in that moment, instead rebuffing Gojou's question with a desperate: ]
I don't want to stop fucking you...
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