[ 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.
[ gojo almost wishes they were somewhere else, somewhere more private so he could hear the fractured noise that nearly makes it out of getou's throat. he's so rarely vocal, it feels like a crime to lose any exclamation of pleasure, no matter how small.
he doesn't let up in his pace, even when suguru decides to be a real shit and reach around to tease him while he's fucking him, trying to hold out from coming until he's sure that second orgasm is a sure thing. the second time is better than the first somehow - getou's body is heavy and slower from the lack of time between orgasms, clumsy almost, but his orgasm hits him hard and it's nothing but ecstasy to ride it out, fill him up and know that getou is desperate keep it inside him, that it'll be dripping out of him for the rest of the night until they get back to school.
gojo is still panting hard when getou turns and licks into his mouth, letting his arms wind around getou's midsection and paw at him possessively. ]
Yeah, you. [ he mumbles into his ear, glancing up at the knock on the door frame. this time, getou manages to get his voice beneath him enough to ask them to come back later. a grin spreads into that damp, oil-slick hair and gojo gives a playful thrust up into suguru. ] We'll call when we're ready to order!
[ once the shadow retreats, gojo nuzzles his face back into the curve of getou's neck, kissing along the line of his pulse, the sharp jut of his jaw, before licking into his mouth again greedily. a hand slides up the other side of getou's neck and jaw, cupping it and pulling him deeper into the kiss. it's sloppy and warm, gojo's arm wound around suguru's waist and cock still buried deep in him. ]
Thirsty? [ gojo pulls back, brushes a thumb over his chin before swiping a glass from the table, pouring the sake into his mouth before leaning in to kiss getou again, slipping the liquid from his tongue down getou's throat, licking his mouth clean afterward. ]
[ of course he wouldn't be able to resist teasing him when there's someone right there to hear it; he's sated but not stupid. to keep that little sound buried in the back of his throat, he occupies his mouth with sucking the lobe of his ear into his mouth, rolling that tender new piercing around on his tongue, content enough to thwart him in this when he's let him take full advantage of their situation all evening already. he isn't exactly the only one getting spoiled here. ]
[ after all... isn't this something like... their first official date? the first time they ever addressed it openly, called it what it was, showed up with giddy paws eager to explore and play. it makes him happier than he thinks he has any right to be. ]
[ his free hand, the one not still pinning them together, follows Gojou's around his waist and guides it gently; he presses his palm and those long fingers low on his flat belly, as though he were trying to get him to stroke his own dick still buried in him through muscle and sinew. it starts a shivery little rhythm that has him groaning low and soft, tender and defenseless, as he sucks on Gojou's tongue, curls and presses and wrangles with it, eager to share every sensory delight they can muster. and when he drinks, he does so deeply, the cold whip of sake down his tongue doing absolutely nothing to stop the clouds from rolling in. it tastes better when run through someone else's tongue, gone nectar-sweet. ]
[ two things paradoxically exist inside of Getou at the same time, after all: discipline and a love of indulgence. maybe it's the severity of his restrictions upon himself that make him so prone to temptation — Gojou's temptation specifically, for better or worse. he doesn't want to stop kissing him or sitting on his cock or getting every inch of his body worshipped and admired, spoiled under the attention of the Six Eyes and the infatuation of their wielder. the sake is best joined by the fish; he joins Gojou in fetching things off the table, pinching the soft flesh of pink fish between his fingers and dropping it in his mouth as his head leans back on that shoulder again, recumbent. the meat is so tender and fresh it melts on his tongue. his praise for the chef is a purr, eyes lidding. ]
Satoru... [ his hand lays back on his, lacing their fingers together on top of his stomach. his voice is soft and sincere, head shifting to look at him again. ] Thank you... for tonight.
[ he did promise to spoil getou, and he certainly deserves it after taking all the loving abuse gojo has thrown at him this evening. after all, it's their first official date, and gojo won't ever let him forget he got to fuck getou on it, not the other way around.
but it would have been fine the other way too. anything would be fine, because he's here with getou and that's all gojo needs to be content - have that comforting weight on top of him, getou's soft eyes and smile.
the hand pressing at the tanned skin of getou's stomach, he can almost feel it against his cock and it has him rutting up lazily into the rhythm as they kiss, rewarding getou's moan with one of his own. gojo considers himself someone that delights in feasting the senses, but getou might just have him beat these days. the easy way the fish slides down the thick column of his throat, the lidded purr in praise of it. getou's quickly developing a taste for the finer things in life that is particularly dangerous for a man like gojo who finds joy in the sheer indulgence of spoiling himself or someone else.
he's always been of the mind that he's entitled to his family fortune, the trust fund he'll soon have unlimited access to. it's what he deserves for carrying the gojo clan on his back, shouldering the weight of his own destiny and the safety of the world.
gojo never expected to have anyone to share that burden with. is more than thrilled to have someone to join him in reaping the rewards. getou looks at him from that perch on gojo's shoulder, laces their fingers together. ] Hah?
You don't have to thank me... I said I'd look after you. [ he pauses, considers all the things getou has told him over the years... and he purses his lips, chews around the words before finally mumbling - ] Thanks. For letting me take you out. Officially.
[ the next piece of fish fetched from the table is pale and shimmering, and gojo slides it along getou's lower lip before placing it on his tongue and dragging his own down getou's through as he swallows. ]
[ the dismissal of his own gratitude isn't especially surprising — but his eyes widen a touch as Gojou returns it, plying him with words he never expected to (and was simply content to not) hear. it darkens the flush already on his cheeks with exertion, turning it to a ruddy, sweet sunburn; suddenly something on the side of the room is the most interesting thing in the world, but he couldn't say what it is if he wanted to. ]
[ — oh. more sashimi. this seems like an incredibly obvious ploy for him to not say anything embarrassing... especially not while they're still in such a, uh, precarious situation. it gives him no sense of caution at all; if anything being touched emotionally only makes him want to touch him even more physically, surging up into his kiss greedily, sharing the rich and plush flavor, spiked with the tang of brine. he doesn't let him go until they're lightheaded together, dizzy with epicurean need; when he does finally does, it's a complete and arduous separating, sending him into the chill of a restaurant without the heat of a body beneath him. ]
[ had to happen eventually. what might be surprising certainly isn't the way a tight fist rings Gojou's cock as it falls out of him, attempting to scrape him clean of slick and seed, but the way his other hand pushes back the china of their food, clearing a spot at the edge. he turns and sits, facing his schoolmate once again... perched at the very ledge of their dinner table, legs parted open wide and comfortable, his fingers tracing a soft circle around his rosy, well-worked rim before he reaches out, spreading the flavor across the seam of Gojou's lips. ]
If you're ready for dinner, [ he says, hooking his fingers on his bottom row of teeth, the underside of his jaw— ] then finish your appetizer first.
[ just enough to be demanding and playful. his hand returns to the hardwood surface, his grip already tight enough to give him away, and lets himself be observed in full: the puffy, ever so gentle gaping of his hole still stretched from Gojou's dick, and the white bead of cum beginning to pool at the cleft of his ass. it threatens to overflow, and Getou pitches his hips forward nervously, eagerly, voice a rough and imploring whisper: ]
[ the saltiness of getou’s mouth is all the meal he could ask for. the way he presses up into their kiss seeking warmth and more of that emotional connection. getou’s hungry for things gojo doesn’t know how to give but will try to all the same. and even still —
he gets fed by getou anyway, determined to feast them both it seems. generous. That’s what comes to mind until getou pulls back and peels himself from gojo entirely, taking all that warmth and heavy comfort with him. gojo whines at the loss, at the scrape of calloused fingers along his cock. he wants him back, wants to be buried inside and feel the sated, trusting weight of a well-fucked getou suguru in his arms. and then the china is shoved aside and getou sits on the table, facing him, ass perched at the edge with wide spread thighs and gojo’s whining tapers off immediately. ]
Oh. Fuck. [ it’s all he can get out, before getou is smearing come on his lips. his tongue makes quick work of it and that clever mouth opens to invite fingers in, cock twitching when he demands gojo not let their current meal go to waste. a smirk curls up onto his lips as getou gently pulls away, leans back to put himself on display all for gojo. ]
Thank you for the meal~ [ gojo quips, surges in and buries his face between getou’s solid thighs, spreading them further still with cool palms. his mouth seeks out the tang of white, warm and heavy on his tongue as gojo helps himself to another course in their off-menu feast.
a long, nimble tongue teases the rim, puffy and over sensitive, laves along getou’s taint before plunging in. there’s no restraint offered here. gojo’s a man starved, licking into getou greedily and wrapping long, pale fingers around his thighs. he hitches one knee over his shoulder, tipping getou back a little farther as he shoves in, lapping and sucking noisily. it’s lewd and nearing obscene and gojo couldn’t care less, he doesn’t waste a single drop.
gojo’s other hand splays across getou’s pubic bone, presses at his belly and up along a firm, toned abdomen, rubbing little circles with his thumb in time with the rhythm of his tongue and thanking getou for the feast with a deep moan. ]
[ there's something bashful and agitated he's about to say that makes the high points of that angular face look freshly sun-kissed; Gojou is embarrassing even at his best, and that isn't exactly what Getou brings out of him. whatever it was, however, is lost to the startled, loud and lusty moan that accompanies the plunge of Gojou's tongue: an unchecked thing he only has the sense to inhibit after it's too late, his hand going to his mouth in disbelief. his expression wars between scandalized and god, fuck, the absolute sear of pleasure that comes with it. he's — tender, stretched and used, and the warm balm of his tongue is better than any salve he could imagine. it licks into him with instant relief, and his body only has that one clench of surprise... ]
[ before he becomes buttery and smooth, staying loose and open for him, insides malleable and soft and yielding to every lash and lick of wet heat. ]
[ a knee tightens, drawing him in where his calf and ankle and heel stretch down his back; his head falls back, brows pinched, mouth freed and ajar in panting, staving off any vocalizations with renewed caution. that hand on his mouth has crept back down, hooked around the column of Gojou's neck, and begun to knead. ]
S... Satoru... haha, mmmn, you're incredible...
[ the hook of limb over shoulder has left him slightly tilted as is; his elbow has found an empty spot in the table to root him. his other fingers are in Gojou's hair, petting feverishly, working down his nape with kneading fingers, into the back of his shirt just to rake blunt nails up his back again. his cock hangs between his belly and thigh, half-sloped with an uncertain spent arousal, and the shuddering surprise of Gojou's mouth on him has worked out a few last drops that had been abandoned down his shaft. every time he can't resist the delicious roll of his hips into him, his dick drags lovingly just beneath a hip. ]
Keep going... there's just a little more... you were so deep when you came inside me...
when getou starts being particularly hedonistic in his wants, gojo is more than happy to meet him where he is, legs spread and throat keening loud enough that he's positive someone outside of this room hears it. oh well, he'll leave a good tip for the trouble they cause.
there's no stopping him now, anyway. getou is burning up before him, and gojo's ready to roll around in the ashes of his good manners. he buries his face flush when that knee and heel pull him in, groaning low and warm against the fever heat of getou's thighs. the praise is good - it always is, and getou must know that he'll only be more determined between those soft petals of praise and the urgent fingers in his hair, under the curve of his skull to scratch underneath his hair - one of his favorite ways for getou to show appreciation.
getou says, just a little more, and gojo obeys with a warm purr. long fingers hook around the meat of those firm, muscled thighs before gojo pulls back, tongue still hanging out of his mouth as he drops down to the floor on his back. he tugs getou off the table with a rattle of china to sit on his face, bracing his hips as he plunges back into the smooth heat. hungry teeth graze at the rim, and a hand slides up his thigh, along the tight line of getou's stomach to press there at gojo licks him open, sucks down every last drop of what he left inside, drool dribbling down a corner of his mouth.
when he's sure he's taken full advantage of the meal, followed getou's command to the letter, he moves from beneath him, dragging getou into his lap and arms before he can topple in one direction or the other. the silk of his kimono is retrieved from the floor, and gojo drapes it over his shoulders as he presses soft kisses to getou's jaw and neck. ] What do you think? Good first date so far, huh~
[ there's always more strength in those arms than there seems to be. of course, he doesn't offer any resistance, slithering off of the table, palms catching him on the tatami above Gojou's head with the forward pitch. that mouth finds him again and he hisses, pleased, rolling his hips in time with that plush mouth. he's up on his knees after a moment, body weight adding more force to gravity — ]
[ and he can feel it in a shivery trickle against his walls, down down down until it's lapped up by Gojou's eager tongue. he stays there longer, just to be sure, and Getou is but he's thankful for it anyway, relishing in those excess moments of unnecessary tenderness to wring out all the joy they can muster. he would collapse into a seat on the floor without Gojou's guidance, but being back in his lap just reminds him of how full he was earlier... ]
[ how full Gojou hasn't been. ]
God, yes. [ is the breathy, sweaty response he offers in return, happy and dazed and half-cloaked, arms around Gojou's shoulders like he doesn't want to let go. ...something blooms back into awareness in his eyes as he looks at him, but can't resist licking the taste of him off of his lips before he addresses it. ]
Let's eat, and then I'll give you your gift. [ something about his tone implies the night's only just beginning. as far as the rest of the sashimi goes, he's happy to eat it off of Gojou's fingers, his tongue, his — anything. ]
[ gojo is chasing getou's mouth as soon as he drifts back, bumping and sliding their lips together, giving one final nip before he lets getou drift back, stare up at him with more intention than he expects. ]
[ gift? oh, he forgot about that... isn't this whole night gift enough? well, not that gojo will ever say no to other gifts, but... if the night's still young that's really what matters. gojo doesn't want it to end, gift or not. ] Do you want more?
[ gojo tugs getou's kimono around him more fully, wraps the obi messily around his waist and kisses along the line of his neck and jaw as he does it. ] Soba, that is... there's a whole sampler we can order, if we'll be here for a while.
[ gojo shifts and tidies himself, sitting cross-legged in front of the table and pulling their food and drink back in towards them with one hand. the other keeps getou firmly half in his lap, stroking at his stomach and along his hip and thigh. two more glasses of sake get poured a little haphazardly - he has had more to drink than usual, but gojo still offers getou his cup before sipping his own this time. see? he's nothing if not considerate tonight. ]
[ anything to keep getou looking so perfectly pleased and flushed, the corners of his eyes crinkling when he smiles like that - like it's real. not the fake smile he so often uses around other people. this one is looser, warmer, like the way getou sometimes talks when they're alone and tired or he's drunk. the getou from a small rural town. it's a gift to hear that, to see this smile, and he can't imagine what else getou could give him that he doesn't have already. that could be better than this. ]
[ he eats the sashimi with his fingers, licks them clean, and with his other hand slides getou's unruly black hair out of his back, tucked behind his ears, fingers making it neat and sleek again with careful attention. ]
Kimono looks good on you. Long hair, too... it's grown out a lot since first year. [ he hums, resting his chin on a broad, firm shoulder and relaxing with his arms slinking around getou's waist, holding him close. ]
[ every little fix to his appearance feels like affection, and Gojou puts him back together with almost as much care as he put into dressing earlier that night. he wonders if he knows — how he ties his sash in the slenderest part of his waist and asks the mirror if it'll please him, even knowing his history, if Gojou won't let him rekindle his fondness for traditional clothing, give it a new definition. isn't that what they're always doing? redefining one another: curse eater, best friends, the strongest, and now... ]
[ his eyes are loose and slanted, his martial arts posture lost two orgasms go, his smile relaxed and a little, well, dopey. every man's an idiot when he's in love, even the smartest of them. ]
To be honest, I have more on my mind than food. [ he's cheersed and drank and devoured his favorite noodles, now stays dizzy and flush, where he leans into Gojou like this is his trust fall, like he's his pretty doll that can be preened and fixed and used and worshipped. he likes it. he wants more, voracious for his compliments, smiling when they inevitably come. ]
You like it? I should keep growing it, then? [ his mouth finds the lobe of Gojou's ear, sucking lips and scraping teeth. he can't help it; the drink and the intimacy have him feeling frisky. he's ready to put their bodies together in a whole new place. ] What else would you like to see?
[ if he would change anything, what would it be? what would he make him wear? what fantasies are rolling around up in that demented mind of his? ]
That so? [ gojo had long sworn off traditional clothing by the time he'd met getou, but every now and then he thinks about it - what it would be like to wear kimono for a festival together or go away to a traditional onsen. either way, it doesn't stop him from seeing how well it suits getou. how natural and at ease he looks in the easy slope of shoulders, the way it hugs his waist and hips. ]
[ getou leans into him, ragdoll soft and warm, flushed from the sake, and gojo lets the flats of his palms slide over the firm expanse of his stomach and chest over the sumptuous fabric of his kimono, fingers dipping underneath the edge of the obi he just tied back on a little more with each pass. ]
Yeah... [ he exhales when getou's mouth finds his ear, reaches up and drags his fingers through thick, black hair. ] Keep growing it out, it suits you.
[ gojo's other hand slips inside the loose fold of the kimono, traces the curves and dips of his chest. long, soft fingers find a nipple and roll it between the pads until he's got him pert and hard here, giving it a tug and a flick. ] Wish you'd wear it down more often...
What do you want me to say? You'd look hot with more piercings... tattoos maybe, but you wouldn't want to stand out in that way, would you? [ the hand in getou's hair slips down to grip at his hip, squeezes there before he's suddenly lifting getou out of his lap and flipping him around, backing him up against the low table. gojo climbs into his lap, long legs making quick work of straddling thick, muscular thighs. the truth is... he wouldn't change anything. maybe he's just a sucker too in love with his best friend, and sure he loves dressing people up, but gojo doesn't need to change anything. getou's handsome and fashionable... they look good together. ]
[ it's sappy but he's... perfect. gojo leans down, drags his tongue over the soft, rosy brown of getou's nipple. ] Just look like this more often.
[ satisfied and oh so pretty, the object of a god's worship. ]
[ there's no rush. that's what he tells himself as Gojou strokes him, petting over thin, fine fabric and feeling out the musculature beneath. he's putty in those hands, opening up everywhere pale fingers find themselves slipping in, touching, peeling him back open, a grunt in his throat as a nipple's worked hard and pronounced, bringing the other one along with it. by the time his back's against the table it's ridden back up high on his thighs, claimed seat of the crown prince, one hand going to his waist both to steady him and give the meat of his ass an appreciative little squeeze. ]
I wouldn't mind if they're hidden. Something only you get to see... [ the warm weight of his body is maddening, but not so hot and twisting as his tongue; he jerks and gasps, lungs filling up with breath, chest swelling further into his mouth. ] Right there, huh?
[ he teases, eyes warm, his other hand meeting his first in the middle... and peeling back the zipper and button of his jeans again. his fingers run delectably low on his belly, thumb moving through a pale happy trail and the elastic seam of his briefs... and right where the fabric bunches up as he'd hastily tucked himself away earlier, Getou sets the small box. ]
You have enough trouble keeping your mouth off of me, I can only imagine how bad it would be if I had something shiny and sensitive like that to attract your attention. [ bright eyes flicker back up to Gojou, mischievous and excited. inside, there's a tiny vibrating bullet, a model that usually comes in hot pink instead purchased in icy pastel blue as better suited to its new owner. it comes with body tape that can keep it pressed against the skin, wherever, and a little remote control. ]
We'll have to do things like this more often, if that's what you want to see. [ he sounds amenable. ]
[ gojo releases he nipple in his mouth, reluctantly, rocks back onto his hips and settles warm and firm on getou's. this is where he belongs, on those strong thighs, under that warm gaze. his hips twitch forward as getou's fingers slide low on his belly, thumb grazing the silver hair there in a way that has gojo licking his pink lips eagerly... until he blinks down at the weight on the bulge of his cock.]
[ oh, the gift. he'd almost forgotten all over again. ] I'd never have my mouth off you, if you had a nipple piercing... we might have to find a new line of work. [ he plucks the box up and glances at getou, warm and tingly under that mischievous gaze. he tears it open and pulls it out, pupils shrinking at the bright, icy blue bullet. his cheeks turn a powdery, soft shade of pink, and blue eyes sparkle as he rolls it in his hand to warm it up. ] It matches me.
[ he leans in and kisses getou greedily, licking into his mouth as his hips roll them together teasingly. ] We could quit and move to Malaysia... I've got a trust fund. We wouldn't have to work or fight curses, just play like this every night...
It matches you, [ he agrees, plucking out of the roll of Gojou's long fingers. he holds it in his mouth by the cord at its base, pulling the body tape out of the box and tearing off a strip, listening as he peels his cock out of his underwear again. some finicking, another round of tape, and him humming right along with those little fantasies all culminate in the bullet snugly secure against the underside of Gojou's cockhead, the bullet tip flush with the sensitive glans beneath a blushed-pink frenelum. the slick body runs parallel the pronounced ridge on the underside — and Getou kisses his thumb wet to trace around the slit of him as he tucks him back into place. ]
Every night? You're so insatiable... [ as if he isn't just as bad; he just has some decency about it all. or, pretends to. ]
[ the band of his boxer-briefs go up, and his jeans delicately zip and button, cords connecting to a small receiver that he tucks into Gojou's pocket along with the baby blue slack. the remote is his, placed into a palm and disappeared — though the six eyes will inform him it's been tucked into a kimono-sleeve pocket for safe keeping. his safe keeping. ]
But for now, [ and always: dreams like the ones Gojou's talking about are an impossibility for sorcerers, and Getou knows this is the result of spending a recent mission with Nanami, ] We're going to the arcade, right? Right?
[ he pitches forward, arms wrapping around Gojou's shoulder, mouth carried to his ear as his teeth find a lobe and nibble; this proximity, really, just to feel the oh so subtle vibrations of the bullet where it is as he clicks it onto the lowest setting, a soft and steady hum without pause. ]
I remember something about a purikura booth. [ how long's he had this in his back pocket? ] That one in Chiyoda is in a nice dark corner.
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bakerstreet2023-09-15 12:01 pm
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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.
no subject
he doesn't let up in his pace, even when suguru decides to be a real shit and reach around to tease him while he's fucking him, trying to hold out from coming until he's sure that second orgasm is a sure thing. the second time is better than the first somehow - getou's body is heavy and slower from the lack of time between orgasms, clumsy almost, but his orgasm hits him hard and it's nothing but ecstasy to ride it out, fill him up and know that getou is desperate keep it inside him, that it'll be dripping out of him for the rest of the night until they get back to school.
gojo is still panting hard when getou turns and licks into his mouth, letting his arms wind around getou's midsection and paw at him possessively. ]
Yeah, you. [ he mumbles into his ear, glancing up at the knock on the door frame. this time, getou manages to get his voice beneath him enough to ask them to come back later. a grin spreads into that damp, oil-slick hair and gojo gives a playful thrust up into suguru. ] We'll call when we're ready to order!
[ once the shadow retreats, gojo nuzzles his face back into the curve of getou's neck, kissing along the line of his pulse, the sharp jut of his jaw, before licking into his mouth again greedily. a hand slides up the other side of getou's neck and jaw, cupping it and pulling him deeper into the kiss. it's sloppy and warm, gojo's arm wound around suguru's waist and cock still buried deep in him. ]
Thirsty? [ gojo pulls back, brushes a thumb over his chin before swiping a glass from the table, pouring the sake into his mouth before leaning in to kiss getou again, slipping the liquid from his tongue down getou's throat, licking his mouth clean afterward. ]
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[ after all... isn't this something like... their first official date? the first time they ever addressed it openly, called it what it was, showed up with giddy paws eager to explore and play. it makes him happier than he thinks he has any right to be. ]
[ his free hand, the one not still pinning them together, follows Gojou's around his waist and guides it gently; he presses his palm and those long fingers low on his flat belly, as though he were trying to get him to stroke his own dick still buried in him through muscle and sinew. it starts a shivery little rhythm that has him groaning low and soft, tender and defenseless, as he sucks on Gojou's tongue, curls and presses and wrangles with it, eager to share every sensory delight they can muster. and when he drinks, he does so deeply, the cold whip of sake down his tongue doing absolutely nothing to stop the clouds from rolling in. it tastes better when run through someone else's tongue, gone nectar-sweet. ]
[ two things paradoxically exist inside of Getou at the same time, after all: discipline and a love of indulgence. maybe it's the severity of his restrictions upon himself that make him so prone to temptation — Gojou's temptation specifically, for better or worse. he doesn't want to stop kissing him or sitting on his cock or getting every inch of his body worshipped and admired, spoiled under the attention of the Six Eyes and the infatuation of their wielder. the sake is best joined by the fish; he joins Gojou in fetching things off the table, pinching the soft flesh of pink fish between his fingers and dropping it in his mouth as his head leans back on that shoulder again, recumbent. the meat is so tender and fresh it melts on his tongue. his praise for the chef is a purr, eyes lidding. ]
Satoru... [ his hand lays back on his, lacing their fingers together on top of his stomach. his voice is soft and sincere, head shifting to look at him again. ] Thank you... for tonight.
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but it would have been fine the other way too. anything would be fine, because he's here with getou and that's all gojo needs to be content - have that comforting weight on top of him, getou's soft eyes and smile.
the hand pressing at the tanned skin of getou's stomach, he can almost feel it against his cock and it has him rutting up lazily into the rhythm as they kiss, rewarding getou's moan with one of his own. gojo considers himself someone that delights in feasting the senses, but getou might just have him beat these days. the easy way the fish slides down the thick column of his throat, the lidded purr in praise of it. getou's quickly developing a taste for the finer things in life that is particularly dangerous for a man like gojo who finds joy in the sheer indulgence of spoiling himself or someone else.
he's always been of the mind that he's entitled to his family fortune, the trust fund he'll soon have unlimited access to. it's what he deserves for carrying the gojo clan on his back, shouldering the weight of his own destiny and the safety of the world.
gojo never expected to have anyone to share that burden with. is more than thrilled to have someone to join him in reaping the rewards. getou looks at him from that perch on gojo's shoulder, laces their fingers together. ] Hah?
You don't have to thank me... I said I'd look after you. [ he pauses, considers all the things getou has told him over the years... and he purses his lips, chews around the words before finally mumbling - ] Thanks. For letting me take you out. Officially.
[ the next piece of fish fetched from the table is pale and shimmering, and gojo slides it along getou's lower lip before placing it on his tongue and dragging his own down getou's through as he swallows. ]
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[ — oh. more sashimi. this seems like an incredibly obvious ploy for him to not say anything embarrassing... especially not while they're still in such a, uh, precarious situation. it gives him no sense of caution at all; if anything being touched emotionally only makes him want to touch him even more physically, surging up into his kiss greedily, sharing the rich and plush flavor, spiked with the tang of brine. he doesn't let him go until they're lightheaded together, dizzy with epicurean need; when he does finally does, it's a complete and arduous separating, sending him into the chill of a restaurant without the heat of a body beneath him. ]
[ had to happen eventually. what might be surprising certainly isn't the way a tight fist rings Gojou's cock as it falls out of him, attempting to scrape him clean of slick and seed, but the way his other hand pushes back the china of their food, clearing a spot at the edge. he turns and sits, facing his schoolmate once again... perched at the very ledge of their dinner table, legs parted open wide and comfortable, his fingers tracing a soft circle around his rosy, well-worked rim before he reaches out, spreading the flavor across the seam of Gojou's lips. ]
If you're ready for dinner, [ he says, hooking his fingers on his bottom row of teeth, the underside of his jaw— ] then finish your appetizer first.
[ just enough to be demanding and playful. his hand returns to the hardwood surface, his grip already tight enough to give him away, and lets himself be observed in full: the puffy, ever so gentle gaping of his hole still stretched from Gojou's dick, and the white bead of cum beginning to pool at the cleft of his ass. it threatens to overflow, and Getou pitches his hips forward nervously, eagerly, voice a rough and imploring whisper: ]
Don't let it drip, don't let it drip...
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he gets fed by getou anyway, determined to feast them both it seems. generous. That’s what comes to mind until getou pulls back and peels himself from gojo entirely, taking all that warmth and heavy comfort with him. gojo whines at the loss, at the scrape of calloused fingers along his cock. he wants him back, wants to be buried inside and feel the sated, trusting weight of a well-fucked getou suguru in his arms. and then the china is shoved aside and getou sits on the table, facing him, ass perched at the edge with wide spread thighs and gojo’s whining tapers off immediately. ]
Oh. Fuck. [ it’s all he can get out, before getou is smearing come on his lips. his tongue makes quick work of it and that clever mouth opens to invite fingers in, cock twitching when he demands gojo not let their current meal go to waste. a smirk curls up onto his lips as getou gently pulls away, leans back to put himself on display all for gojo. ]
Thank you for the meal~ [ gojo quips, surges in and buries his face between getou’s solid thighs, spreading them further still with cool palms. his mouth seeks out the tang of white, warm and heavy on his tongue as gojo helps himself to another course in their off-menu feast.
a long, nimble tongue teases the rim, puffy and over sensitive, laves along getou’s taint before plunging in. there’s no restraint offered here. gojo’s a man starved, licking into getou greedily and wrapping long, pale fingers around his thighs. he hitches one knee over his shoulder, tipping getou back a little farther as he shoves in, lapping and sucking noisily. it’s lewd and nearing obscene and gojo couldn’t care less, he doesn’t waste a single drop.
gojo’s other hand splays across getou’s pubic bone, presses at his belly and up along a firm, toned abdomen, rubbing little circles with his thumb in time with the rhythm of his tongue and thanking getou for the feast with a deep moan. ]
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[ there's something bashful and agitated he's about to say that makes the high points of that angular face look freshly sun-kissed; Gojou is embarrassing even at his best, and that isn't exactly what Getou brings out of him. whatever it was, however, is lost to the startled, loud and lusty moan that accompanies the plunge of Gojou's tongue: an unchecked thing he only has the sense to inhibit after it's too late, his hand going to his mouth in disbelief. his expression wars between scandalized and god, fuck, the absolute sear of pleasure that comes with it. he's — tender, stretched and used, and the warm balm of his tongue is better than any salve he could imagine. it licks into him with instant relief, and his body only has that one clench of surprise... ]
[ before he becomes buttery and smooth, staying loose and open for him, insides malleable and soft and yielding to every lash and lick of wet heat. ]
[ a knee tightens, drawing him in where his calf and ankle and heel stretch down his back; his head falls back, brows pinched, mouth freed and ajar in panting, staving off any vocalizations with renewed caution. that hand on his mouth has crept back down, hooked around the column of Gojou's neck, and begun to knead. ]
S... Satoru... haha, mmmn, you're incredible...
[ the hook of limb over shoulder has left him slightly tilted as is; his elbow has found an empty spot in the table to root him. his other fingers are in Gojou's hair, petting feverishly, working down his nape with kneading fingers, into the back of his shirt just to rake blunt nails up his back again. his cock hangs between his belly and thigh, half-sloped with an uncertain spent arousal, and the shuddering surprise of Gojou's mouth on him has worked out a few last drops that had been abandoned down his shaft. every time he can't resist the delicious roll of his hips into him, his dick drags lovingly just beneath a hip. ]
Keep going... there's just a little more... you were so deep when you came inside me...
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when getou starts being particularly hedonistic in his wants, gojo is more than happy to meet him where he is, legs spread and throat keening loud enough that he's positive someone outside of this room hears it. oh well, he'll leave a good tip for the trouble they cause.
there's no stopping him now, anyway. getou is burning up before him, and gojo's ready to roll around in the ashes of his good manners. he buries his face flush when that knee and heel pull him in, groaning low and warm against the fever heat of getou's thighs. the praise is good - it always is, and getou must know that he'll only be more determined between those soft petals of praise and the urgent fingers in his hair, under the curve of his skull to scratch underneath his hair - one of his favorite ways for getou to show appreciation.
getou says, just a little more, and gojo obeys with a warm purr. long fingers hook around the meat of those firm, muscled thighs before gojo pulls back, tongue still hanging out of his mouth as he drops down to the floor on his back. he tugs getou off the table with a rattle of china to sit on his face, bracing his hips as he plunges back into the smooth heat. hungry teeth graze at the rim, and a hand slides up his thigh, along the tight line of getou's stomach to press there at gojo licks him open, sucks down every last drop of what he left inside, drool dribbling down a corner of his mouth.
when he's sure he's taken full advantage of the meal, followed getou's command to the letter, he moves from beneath him, dragging getou into his lap and arms before he can topple in one direction or the other. the silk of his kimono is retrieved from the floor, and gojo drapes it over his shoulders as he presses soft kisses to getou's jaw and neck. ] What do you think? Good first date so far, huh~
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[ and he can feel it in a shivery trickle against his walls, down down down until it's lapped up by Gojou's eager tongue. he stays there longer, just to be sure, and Getou is but he's thankful for it anyway, relishing in those excess moments of unnecessary tenderness to wring out all the joy they can muster. he would collapse into a seat on the floor without Gojou's guidance, but being back in his lap just reminds him of how full he was earlier... ]
[ how full Gojou hasn't been. ]
God, yes. [ is the breathy, sweaty response he offers in return, happy and dazed and half-cloaked, arms around Gojou's shoulders like he doesn't want to let go. ...something blooms back into awareness in his eyes as he looks at him, but can't resist licking the taste of him off of his lips before he addresses it. ]
Let's eat, and then I'll give you your gift. [ something about his tone implies the night's only just beginning. as far as the rest of the sashimi goes, he's happy to eat it off of Gojou's fingers, his tongue, his — anything. ]
[ the soba, though... that's his. not sharing. ]
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[ gift? oh, he forgot about that... isn't this whole night gift enough? well, not that gojo will ever say no to other gifts, but... if the night's still young that's really what matters. gojo doesn't want it to end, gift or not. ] Do you want more?
[ gojo tugs getou's kimono around him more fully, wraps the obi messily around his waist and kisses along the line of his neck and jaw as he does it. ] Soba, that is... there's a whole sampler we can order, if we'll be here for a while.
[ gojo shifts and tidies himself, sitting cross-legged in front of the table and pulling their food and drink back in towards them with one hand. the other keeps getou firmly half in his lap, stroking at his stomach and along his hip and thigh. two more glasses of sake get poured a little haphazardly - he has had more to drink than usual, but gojo still offers getou his cup before sipping his own this time. see? he's nothing if not considerate tonight. ]
[ anything to keep getou looking so perfectly pleased and flushed, the corners of his eyes crinkling when he smiles like that - like it's real. not the fake smile he so often uses around other people. this one is looser, warmer, like the way getou sometimes talks when they're alone and tired or he's drunk. the getou from a small rural town. it's a gift to hear that, to see this smile, and he can't imagine what else getou could give him that he doesn't have already. that could be better than this. ]
[ he eats the sashimi with his fingers, licks them clean, and with his other hand slides getou's unruly black hair out of his back, tucked behind his ears, fingers making it neat and sleek again with careful attention. ]
Kimono looks good on you. Long hair, too... it's grown out a lot since first year. [ he hums, resting his chin on a broad, firm shoulder and relaxing with his arms slinking around getou's waist, holding him close. ]
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[ his eyes are loose and slanted, his martial arts posture lost two orgasms go, his smile relaxed and a little, well, dopey. every man's an idiot when he's in love, even the smartest of them. ]
To be honest, I have more on my mind than food. [ he's cheersed and drank and devoured his favorite noodles, now stays dizzy and flush, where he leans into Gojou like this is his trust fall, like he's his pretty doll that can be preened and fixed and used and worshipped. he likes it. he wants more, voracious for his compliments, smiling when they inevitably come. ]
You like it? I should keep growing it, then? [ his mouth finds the lobe of Gojou's ear, sucking lips and scraping teeth. he can't help it; the drink and the intimacy have him feeling frisky. he's ready to put their bodies together in a whole new place. ] What else would you like to see?
[ if he would change anything, what would it be? what would he make him wear? what fantasies are rolling around up in that demented mind of his? ]
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[ getou leans into him, ragdoll soft and warm, flushed from the sake, and gojo lets the flats of his palms slide over the firm expanse of his stomach and chest over the sumptuous fabric of his kimono, fingers dipping underneath the edge of the obi he just tied back on a little more with each pass. ]
Yeah... [ he exhales when getou's mouth finds his ear, reaches up and drags his fingers through thick, black hair. ] Keep growing it out, it suits you.
[ gojo's other hand slips inside the loose fold of the kimono, traces the curves and dips of his chest. long, soft fingers find a nipple and roll it between the pads until he's got him pert and hard here, giving it a tug and a flick. ] Wish you'd wear it down more often...
What do you want me to say? You'd look hot with more piercings... tattoos maybe, but you wouldn't want to stand out in that way, would you? [ the hand in getou's hair slips down to grip at his hip, squeezes there before he's suddenly lifting getou out of his lap and flipping him around, backing him up against the low table. gojo climbs into his lap, long legs making quick work of straddling thick, muscular thighs. the truth is... he wouldn't change anything. maybe he's just a sucker too in love with his best friend, and sure he loves dressing people up, but gojo doesn't need to change anything. getou's handsome and fashionable... they look good together. ]
[ it's sappy but he's... perfect. gojo leans down, drags his tongue over the soft, rosy brown of getou's nipple. ] Just look like this more often.
[ satisfied and oh so pretty, the object of a god's worship. ]
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I wouldn't mind if they're hidden. Something only you get to see... [ the warm weight of his body is maddening, but not so hot and twisting as his tongue; he jerks and gasps, lungs filling up with breath, chest swelling further into his mouth. ] Right there, huh?
[ he teases, eyes warm, his other hand meeting his first in the middle... and peeling back the zipper and button of his jeans again. his fingers run delectably low on his belly, thumb moving through a pale happy trail and the elastic seam of his briefs... and right where the fabric bunches up as he'd hastily tucked himself away earlier, Getou sets the small box. ]
You have enough trouble keeping your mouth off of me, I can only imagine how bad it would be if I had something shiny and sensitive like that to attract your attention. [ bright eyes flicker back up to Gojou, mischievous and excited. inside, there's a tiny vibrating bullet, a model that usually comes in hot pink instead purchased in icy pastel blue as better suited to its new owner. it comes with body tape that can keep it pressed against the skin, wherever, and a little remote control. ]
We'll have to do things like this more often, if that's what you want to see. [ he sounds amenable. ]
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[ oh, the gift. he'd almost forgotten all over again. ] I'd never have my mouth off you, if you had a nipple piercing... we might have to find a new line of work. [ he plucks the box up and glances at getou, warm and tingly under that mischievous gaze. he tears it open and pulls it out, pupils shrinking at the bright, icy blue bullet. his cheeks turn a powdery, soft shade of pink, and blue eyes sparkle as he rolls it in his hand to warm it up. ] It matches me.
[ he leans in and kisses getou greedily, licking into his mouth as his hips roll them together teasingly. ] We could quit and move to Malaysia... I've got a trust fund. We wouldn't have to work or fight curses, just play like this every night...
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Every night? You're so insatiable... [ as if he isn't just as bad; he just has some decency about it all. or, pretends to. ]
[ the band of his boxer-briefs go up, and his jeans delicately zip and button, cords connecting to a small receiver that he tucks into Gojou's pocket along with the baby blue slack. the remote is his, placed into a palm and disappeared — though the six eyes will inform him it's been tucked into a kimono-sleeve pocket for safe keeping. his safe keeping. ]
But for now, [ and always: dreams like the ones Gojou's talking about are an impossibility for sorcerers, and Getou knows this is the result of spending a recent mission with Nanami, ] We're going to the arcade, right? Right?
[ he pitches forward, arms wrapping around Gojou's shoulder, mouth carried to his ear as his teeth find a lobe and nibble; this proximity, really, just to feel the oh so subtle vibrations of the bullet where it is as he clicks it onto the lowest setting, a soft and steady hum without pause. ]
I remember something about a purikura booth. [ how long's he had this in his back pocket? ] That one in Chiyoda is in a nice dark corner.