[ 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: ]
[ gojo is happy to relinquish control - in some ways, it's a way to pamper him. there are times getou enjoys being allowed to exist at gojo's whim, when he feels especially safe or needs to let go of control. but in more typical situations, eventually, the reins always drift back to getou, and so his hands are willingly led to hook around the slim line of getou's hips, gripping there hard enough to bruise.
he reclines slowly, watching as the folds of fabric slip from between them, leaving getou on full display in the private room. at this rate, he'll need to buy getou a new kimono. sort of wants to, anyway. gojo always tends to want to spoil the other boy, but never more than after a play session like this.
the sharp line of his back, his perfect posture, the way gojo's cock disappears into him as him shuddering, hips bucking up in eager little bursts even before he shifts up and then sinks himself back down on gojo's cock. he has to clap a hand over his mouth to keep the cry muffled. pale brows furrow and gojo gasps heavy, slides an open palm up the small of getou's back admiringly before he lets his nails drag down it.
his hips are stuttering underneath the force of the rhythm, and gojo whines when getou sweeps that long, dark hair to the side, glances back at him. he wishes he could find the words to properly explain just how perfect getou looks, always. ] Always. So damn good, Suguru.
[ it's the fact that getou's language is so polite that makes it so god damn hot when he decides to talk like this, when his mouth finally drips into foul words and fouler intentions. it's got gojo's cock twitching hard inside him, his hips trembling under getou's punishing pace. his hands slip down to cup and paw at getou's ass, spreading it to get a better look at the way he sinks into him. ]
Then don't fucking stop fucking me. [ even if it gets them kicked out and banned forever, it'll be worth it. ]
[ wandering hands illicit a pleasant sigh out of him — but he positively moans and blushes when Gojou's fingers spread him open for a better view of how he's fucking himself on his cock, hips stuttering in their rhythm as he bottoms out and grinds heavenly across him, massaging and pressing him against every inner wall. his thighs are trembling, fuck, he feels so fucking good... ]
[ it inspires a shift. his back arches, chasing the delicious spots of white-hot pleasure that are sparkling behind his eyes, the sheen of sweat in the small of his back slipping down a spine. one hand balances his shoulders over Gojou's stomach; the other, devious as he is, wraps around his cock and pumps. ]
[ he creates his own rhythm between pushing himself down onto Gojou's spearing cock and thrusting up into his fist, a feedback loop of pleasure and self-satisfaction. and he's true to his word: he really doesn't want to stop, continuing to bottom out rough and fast even when his thrusts start getting erratic, when his hand isn't keeping up with his rhythm anymore but rather outpacing it. it makes him messy and frantic but still chasing the absolute ecstasy buried somewhere right behind his balls. ]
Fuck... fuckfuck, Satoru, I'm so close...
[ all of his muscles wind up so tight, he's clenching down on Gojou's cock with every desperate thrust, and pumping his dick with a quick, squeezing grip, and it's just there— it's right there, just out of his reach— ]
Satoru, please... I wanna come, I wanna come all over your cock, please...
[ just do that one thing, something, anything to push him over the edge. ]
[ jesus fucking christ who gave getou the right - to look this good? to be able to do that with his hips when he grinds down on gojo, dragging him against ridged inner walls that have him seeing stars. there's a heavy thud as his head hits the tatami, a grunt that doesn't quite make it all the way out of his throat followed by a hiss that sounds suspiciously like a vulgar curse.
when he looks up, it's to watch adoringly as getou fucks himself with his hand and gojo's cock, back arched, hair slipping back over his shoulders to slide down between his shoulder blades. it takes his breath away - just how beautiful getou is. tanned and dark-featured, face twisted in ecstasy as a bead of sweat travels down the length of his spine. gojo slides a hand up to catch it, bringing it to his mouth hand licking it off before replacing the hand at his hip. if he comes out of this very expensive evening only indulging in getou he won't regret a single damn thing.
he watches getou's rhythm unravel like all the silk he'd wrapped himself in for tonight, curses as he bottoms out hard on him. gojo sits up quickly to press his chest against the heat of getou's back, arm coming around him to drag along his stomach and between his thighs to cup his balls. ] Suguru... fuck, you really are close huh? God you're so tight.
[ he only needs one hand to grip getou's hip to bruising, pushing it up before slamming it back down. he bottoms out in getou, jerking his hips up to thrust in, shove his cock at the spot getou's aching for, and grinding it there. it takes every inch of will he has not to lose himself in it, stars erupting at the edges of his vision, but gojo rocks into that spot, rubbing the head at it until he feels getou's balls start to spasm and contract with the oncoming wave of orgasm.
his teeth sink into getou's neck and even though it kills him, at the next arch of his hips, gojo slips out of getou and tugs him back until he can grab both of their cocks in his hand - long thin fingers wrapping around them and pumping them fast and hard. he releases getou's skin and presses his mouth to an ear, panting at it desperately. ] That's it, come on baby come with me.. make a mess...
[ the shift of Gojou's body closer changes his angle ever so slightly and it has him stuttering, slowing, trembling; there's a chest to his back and he trusts it, that when he arches and the connecting points of their hips and shoulders meet, he can rest the weight of his head back over his shoulder, sending black hair tumbling over him instead. and it feels almost unfair — that Gojou would know how to fuck him so well for as infrequently as he gets to do it, how he finds that painfully, sinfully good angle and just wrings everything out of him he possibly can. ]
[ his thighs burn, belly tight, balls drawn up — and still he fights it, tries to push it off, tries to just enjoy what it feels like to have his best friend buried, stretching, pounding against what makes him squirm and writhe with ecstasy. with his head resting on Gojou's shoulder, his eyes are cloudy and sightless with the haze of absolute rapture. ]
Yes— yes, yes, just like that... oh god...
[ his cock pulses where it's balanced on the bone of Gojou's thumb — until it isn't, until it's in his fist and he pulls the ripcord in time with those teeth sinking into his throat. his flesh throbs between his fangs as though his blood were trying to enter him too. ]
Wait— [ but it's too late. he tells him to come but he's already there, tells him to make a mess but he's already throbbing and spilling, an overflowing, thick stream of semen pouring steadily out, and the sound he makes is part anguished sob and part euphoric yelp. his insides twitch and spasm and clench at absolutely nothing, and the emptiness plunges him sharply down, despairing what he lost in the same heartbeats that flood him with endorphins. it's the joy of falling into the sky running in tandem with knowing you're about to hit the ground. ]
[ he turns his head to look at him, convulsing in those throes as his hand forces him to ride it out... but his brows are pinched up and his expression is grief. ]
—back in, put it back in— [ his own fingers are scrambling to find him, too fucking messed up to do it himself, he's almost crying: ] Come inside me, you asshole...
[ it's only that he knows him so well that he can wring this much pleasure out of getou - he has good eyes, remember? eyes that remember things that make getou writhe and beg and wring himself dry like this - that have memorized each moment they've spent together to commit to memory. even if he doesn't get the chance much, gojo doesn't like opportunities to go to waste.
getou is beautiful when he comes. for all he usually praises gojo for it, he doesn't think anything holds a candle to the knit of his brows, the haziness in his eyes when he's toppling over the edge. gojo's got his face pressed flush against getou's throat, watching him come and panting against his ear as he's about ready to fall off the edge after him - when getou turns his head and grits through the convulsions, begs him to put it back in and come inside him.
gojo groans and shoves his head against getou's shoulder, cursing and laughing breathlessly. ] Yeah? You want it back in? You told me you wanted to come all over it, you should be more clear about what you want next time, Suguru.
[ his teeth grit hard and he shifts getou's hips up, the head of his cock bumping against him before he tugs getou flush against him once more, plunging right in to bottom out. ] Fuck! [ gojo inhales sharp at the hot, velvet squeeze around him again, hips jerking as he thrusts into getou. he finds that same familiar spot and fucks into it, grinding the crown and panting.
maybe because he's worked up by getou's request to have him inside, maybe because he's just a little shit, gojo starts working his hand around getou again, stroking him through the overstimulation. he's not sure how long it takes, he's half out of it with the haze of being buried deep in getou and fucking him in the fancy restaurant he brought him to, kimono long strewn to the floor, but gojo rails into him hard and merciless until he wrings another vicious orgasm out of getou, finally letting himself fall at the same time. he has to sink his teeth into a mouthful of getou's shoulder to keep quiet through it, hips trembling and jerking as he fills him up, squeezes the last of the come from the tip of getou's cock as stars obscure his vision.
gojo's shuddering in the aftermath, chest and shoulders heaving with the force of it. ] You okay? [ he releases getou's length finally and slides the hand up his stomach, stroking it through little residual spasms. his clean hand reaches up smooth long, dark tendrils of hair out of getou's face, brushing a thumb along his jaw as he presses a kiss to his cheek, another to his temple sweetly. ] You were so good, Suguru...
[ it knocks the wind out of him. he knew Gojou would do anything he asks and more, but so suddenly being filled again robs him of breath, throws his head back with shut eyes and ajar mouth in a silent but bliss-out scream. wasn't what he expected. he loves that about it— about Gojou— the addictive and contagious mix of trustworthy and wild. his hips buck and Getou's legs open wider for him, hips angling, pushing back into him... ]
[ you wouldn't think he'd have the energy to do it, but he's rocking back into him as Gojou starts bucking again, a whipcord of tightness channeling up his body from that searing nudge of his lover's cock where drives him crazy until it's at the nape of his neck, the back of his skull, a burning bloom in his lungs. his body is athletic and broad, and he likes the lactic burn of pushing muscle too far, working himself too hard. more than that, he likes the way Gojou fucks, raw and savage and pleasure-focused — everything he was raised, has taught himself not to be. ]
Sorry, I'll... draw you a map next ti- ah! Satoru....!
[ it seems they both need a little assistance, because the second Gojou's hand wraps around him, his goes to his mouth to suppress a broken cry; it becomes a swallowed grunt low in his throat, and with his fingers still clapped over his mouth and heaving that breath through his nose, those fucked-out, black eyes stay pointed right at him in his peripherals, watching him through every spasm and ache and twist of overstimulation, eagerly accepting everything he's given. his other hand — well, that one's a little more devious, slipping between his legs and settled on the other side of where Gojou's wrist lays to keep jacking him off, the bastard — ]
[ fingertips press and knead the root of his impaling cock as it pulls out... and when he's pushing in, Getou returns the same love he'd received, rolling his balls around in the wet, cum-slicked mess he did indeed make. the second orgasm that rips through him with absolutely no refractory period is even better than the first: maybe because of that added bit of pain, of discomfort, of accomplishment in pushing through... but more than likely because he feels Gojou throbbing inside of him, swelling and stroking and, best of all, spilling liquid heat inside of him, molten, full. his weight sags, and even though he can feel the hot trickle of it trying to escape, he presses Gojou's sack up to form as tight a seal as he can to keep it in. ]
[ feeling him shudder makes him do it too, a feedback loop he basks in with afterglow from every overwrought sensation. the constantly-brimming network of his thoughts has faded back into a dull, electric buzz he no longer needs or wants to acknowledge. he feels drunk, safe, and loved. ]
Mm... me? [ his laugh is soft, shaky. already so attentive, he catches Gojou's mouth with his own, licking him open, looking at him through smoky and reverent eyes. there's a knock on the door and he flinches, his insides clamping down on him again in shock... and after a few quick heartbeats, he clears his throat and calls: ] Please come back later.
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bakerstreet2023-09-15 12:01 pm
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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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he reclines slowly, watching as the folds of fabric slip from between them, leaving getou on full display in the private room. at this rate, he'll need to buy getou a new kimono. sort of wants to, anyway. gojo always tends to want to spoil the other boy, but never more than after a play session like this.
the sharp line of his back, his perfect posture, the way gojo's cock disappears into him as him shuddering, hips bucking up in eager little bursts even before he shifts up and then sinks himself back down on gojo's cock. he has to clap a hand over his mouth to keep the cry muffled. pale brows furrow and gojo gasps heavy, slides an open palm up the small of getou's back admiringly before he lets his nails drag down it.
his hips are stuttering underneath the force of the rhythm, and gojo whines when getou sweeps that long, dark hair to the side, glances back at him. he wishes he could find the words to properly explain just how perfect getou looks, always. ] Always. So damn good, Suguru.
[ it's the fact that getou's language is so polite that makes it so god damn hot when he decides to talk like this, when his mouth finally drips into foul words and fouler intentions. it's got gojo's cock twitching hard inside him, his hips trembling under getou's punishing pace. his hands slip down to cup and paw at getou's ass, spreading it to get a better look at the way he sinks into him. ]
Then don't fucking stop fucking me. [ even if it gets them kicked out and banned forever, it'll be worth it. ]
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[ it inspires a shift. his back arches, chasing the delicious spots of white-hot pleasure that are sparkling behind his eyes, the sheen of sweat in the small of his back slipping down a spine. one hand balances his shoulders over Gojou's stomach; the other, devious as he is, wraps around his cock and pumps. ]
[ he creates his own rhythm between pushing himself down onto Gojou's spearing cock and thrusting up into his fist, a feedback loop of pleasure and self-satisfaction. and he's true to his word: he really doesn't want to stop, continuing to bottom out rough and fast even when his thrusts start getting erratic, when his hand isn't keeping up with his rhythm anymore but rather outpacing it. it makes him messy and frantic but still chasing the absolute ecstasy buried somewhere right behind his balls. ]
Fuck... fuckfuck, Satoru, I'm so close...
[ all of his muscles wind up so tight, he's clenching down on Gojou's cock with every desperate thrust, and pumping his dick with a quick, squeezing grip, and it's just there— it's right there, just out of his reach— ]
Satoru, please... I wanna come, I wanna come all over your cock, please...
[ just do that one thing, something, anything to push him over the edge. ]
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when he looks up, it's to watch adoringly as getou fucks himself with his hand and gojo's cock, back arched, hair slipping back over his shoulders to slide down between his shoulder blades. it takes his breath away - just how beautiful getou is. tanned and dark-featured, face twisted in ecstasy as a bead of sweat travels down the length of his spine. gojo slides a hand up to catch it, bringing it to his mouth hand licking it off before replacing the hand at his hip. if he comes out of this very expensive evening only indulging in getou he won't regret a single damn thing.
he watches getou's rhythm unravel like all the silk he'd wrapped himself in for tonight, curses as he bottoms out hard on him. gojo sits up quickly to press his chest against the heat of getou's back, arm coming around him to drag along his stomach and between his thighs to cup his balls. ] Suguru... fuck, you really are close huh? God you're so tight.
[ he only needs one hand to grip getou's hip to bruising, pushing it up before slamming it back down. he bottoms out in getou, jerking his hips up to thrust in, shove his cock at the spot getou's aching for, and grinding it there. it takes every inch of will he has not to lose himself in it, stars erupting at the edges of his vision, but gojo rocks into that spot, rubbing the head at it until he feels getou's balls start to spasm and contract with the oncoming wave of orgasm.
his teeth sink into getou's neck and even though it kills him, at the next arch of his hips, gojo slips out of getou and tugs him back until he can grab both of their cocks in his hand - long thin fingers wrapping around them and pumping them fast and hard. he releases getou's skin and presses his mouth to an ear, panting at it desperately. ] That's it, come on baby come with me.. make a mess...
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[ his thighs burn, belly tight, balls drawn up — and still he fights it, tries to push it off, tries to just enjoy what it feels like to have his best friend buried, stretching, pounding against what makes him squirm and writhe with ecstasy. with his head resting on Gojou's shoulder, his eyes are cloudy and sightless with the haze of absolute rapture. ]
Yes— yes, yes, just like that... oh god...
[ his cock pulses where it's balanced on the bone of Gojou's thumb — until it isn't, until it's in his fist and he pulls the ripcord in time with those teeth sinking into his throat. his flesh throbs between his fangs as though his blood were trying to enter him too. ]
Wait— [ but it's too late. he tells him to come but he's already there, tells him to make a mess but he's already throbbing and spilling, an overflowing, thick stream of semen pouring steadily out, and the sound he makes is part anguished sob and part euphoric yelp. his insides twitch and spasm and clench at absolutely nothing, and the emptiness plunges him sharply down, despairing what he lost in the same heartbeats that flood him with endorphins. it's the joy of falling into the sky running in tandem with knowing you're about to hit the ground. ]
[ he turns his head to look at him, convulsing in those throes as his hand forces him to ride it out... but his brows are pinched up and his expression is grief. ]
—back in, put it back in— [ his own fingers are scrambling to find him, too fucking messed up to do it himself, he's almost crying: ] Come inside me, you asshole...
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getou is beautiful when he comes. for all he usually praises gojo for it, he doesn't think anything holds a candle to the knit of his brows, the haziness in his eyes when he's toppling over the edge. gojo's got his face pressed flush against getou's throat, watching him come and panting against his ear as he's about ready to fall off the edge after him - when getou turns his head and grits through the convulsions, begs him to put it back in and come inside him.
gojo groans and shoves his head against getou's shoulder, cursing and laughing breathlessly. ] Yeah? You want it back in? You told me you wanted to come all over it, you should be more clear about what you want next time, Suguru.
[ his teeth grit hard and he shifts getou's hips up, the head of his cock bumping against him before he tugs getou flush against him once more, plunging right in to bottom out. ] Fuck! [ gojo inhales sharp at the hot, velvet squeeze around him again, hips jerking as he thrusts into getou. he finds that same familiar spot and fucks into it, grinding the crown and panting.
maybe because he's worked up by getou's request to have him inside, maybe because he's just a little shit, gojo starts working his hand around getou again, stroking him through the overstimulation. he's not sure how long it takes, he's half out of it with the haze of being buried deep in getou and fucking him in the fancy restaurant he brought him to, kimono long strewn to the floor, but gojo rails into him hard and merciless until he wrings another vicious orgasm out of getou, finally letting himself fall at the same time. he has to sink his teeth into a mouthful of getou's shoulder to keep quiet through it, hips trembling and jerking as he fills him up, squeezes the last of the come from the tip of getou's cock as stars obscure his vision.
gojo's shuddering in the aftermath, chest and shoulders heaving with the force of it. ] You okay? [ he releases getou's length finally and slides the hand up his stomach, stroking it through little residual spasms. his clean hand reaches up smooth long, dark tendrils of hair out of getou's face, brushing a thumb along his jaw as he presses a kiss to his cheek, another to his temple sweetly. ] You were so good, Suguru...
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[ you wouldn't think he'd have the energy to do it, but he's rocking back into him as Gojou starts bucking again, a whipcord of tightness channeling up his body from that searing nudge of his lover's cock where drives him crazy until it's at the nape of his neck, the back of his skull, a burning bloom in his lungs. his body is athletic and broad, and he likes the lactic burn of pushing muscle too far, working himself too hard. more than that, he likes the way Gojou fucks, raw and savage and pleasure-focused — everything he was raised, has taught himself not to be. ]
Sorry, I'll... draw you a map next ti- ah! Satoru....!
[ it seems they both need a little assistance, because the second Gojou's hand wraps around him, his goes to his mouth to suppress a broken cry; it becomes a swallowed grunt low in his throat, and with his fingers still clapped over his mouth and heaving that breath through his nose, those fucked-out, black eyes stay pointed right at him in his peripherals, watching him through every spasm and ache and twist of overstimulation, eagerly accepting everything he's given. his other hand — well, that one's a little more devious, slipping between his legs and settled on the other side of where Gojou's wrist lays to keep jacking him off, the bastard — ]
[ fingertips press and knead the root of his impaling cock as it pulls out... and when he's pushing in, Getou returns the same love he'd received, rolling his balls around in the wet, cum-slicked mess he did indeed make. the second orgasm that rips through him with absolutely no refractory period is even better than the first: maybe because of that added bit of pain, of discomfort, of accomplishment in pushing through... but more than likely because he feels Gojou throbbing inside of him, swelling and stroking and, best of all, spilling liquid heat inside of him, molten, full. his weight sags, and even though he can feel the hot trickle of it trying to escape, he presses Gojou's sack up to form as tight a seal as he can to keep it in. ]
[ feeling him shudder makes him do it too, a feedback loop he basks in with afterglow from every overwrought sensation. the constantly-brimming network of his thoughts has faded back into a dull, electric buzz he no longer needs or wants to acknowledge. he feels drunk, safe, and loved. ]
Mm... me? [ his laugh is soft, shaky. already so attentive, he catches Gojou's mouth with his own, licking him open, looking at him through smoky and reverent eyes. there's a knock on the door and he flinches, his insides clamping down on him again in shock... and after a few quick heartbeats, he clears his throat and calls: ] Please come back later.
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