Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Satoru knows Yuuji's mind is somewhere far away at the moment.

They've been in the basement together for hours now, already several movies deep, but he can tell that the younger man hasn't been watching any of them. Satoru hasn't been either, to be fair - he's too busy wondering what has Yuuji so distracted tonight.

He scratches at his temple, blindfold feeling particularly irritating tonight. He knows if he took it off, his eyes would give him a headache in no time. Despite the minimal things and people in the basement for his eyes to detect, the television screen is bright in the dark room, and that alone would give even a normal person a headache.

This doesn't stop him from wanting to rip it off and relax into the couch with the carelessness of someone who isn't him. But Yuuji isn't even relaxed.

The teen is sitting in what should be a comfortable position - legs pulled up to sit crisscrossed, body reclined into the soft back of the couch - but he's rigid, fingers fidgety, and legs twitching intermittently. Satoru can't decide if Yuuji's feeling off tonight in the same way he is, or if he's anxious about something. 

Satoru uncrosses his legs and turns his body to lean against the arm of the couch, hands resting in his lap as he openly regards Yuuji. Even though he hasn't been paying any attention to the movies on screen, the boy seems to notice this. How interesting, Satoru thinks to himself, where your attention might actually be. 

Yuuji has managed to stiffen up more, eyes intentionally locked on the screen with a sort of determination and anxiety that screams suspicious. He hums lowly, noting with amusement how the boy's hands tighten in his own lap at the sound. He decides to take pity.

"What's bothering you tonight, Yuuji-kun?" Satoru asks under the noise of the movie. His student doesn't jump, but it's a near thing. His eyes stayed locked on the screen. 

"Huh?" Yuuji blurts questioningly, and Satoru isn't actually sure if he heard him or not with all the action noises blaring through the small space. So, he leans over and grabs the remote, pausing the movie. No more distractions. Yuuji's hands grip his knees tightly.

He knows he can be intimidating. Satoru never wants his student to feel that way.

He toes off his shoes, pulling his socked feet up onto the couch to mirror how Yuuji is sitting, crisscrossing his long legs and getting comfortable the best he can with his larger frame on the small couch. He tosses his arm across the back of it and smiles softly in Yuuji's direction, the boy eyeing him hesitantly.  

"Let's talk!" He chirps in the now quiet room. "C'mon, tell me what's on your mind! I wanna hear everything!" Yuuji huffs out a light laugh, eyes closing happily for a moment. Satoru's childish excitement worked, though deep down he is concerned. 

Yuuji isn't one to keep thoughts to himself - he has a tendency to say what he's thinking and meaning it wholeheartedly, for better or for worse. What is he thinking about that he's choosing to keep bottled up? Is it something to do with Satoru? Maybe his longer-than-usual presence with no cursed doll to train has him off-kilter. How long has it been since Yuuji has just relaxed and had a night to enjoy himself? 

How long has it been since Satoru has taken a night off? 

"Sometimes, Sensei, you are so similar to the girls I used to go to school with, just wanting the gossip," Yuuji mumbles, but his tone is light and his body has relaxed a bit. "It's not anything serious, I promise." His student waves a hand dismissively. Satoru can't help but frown for a second but is quick to smile reassuringly.

"I want to be a listening ear for my precious student!" He says airily. No one else can be, he thinks solemnly. He doesn't say it. "Even if it isn't serious, it's something, right?" The invitation to speak freely is there, and he hopes the teen takes it. Yuuji's gaze flickers down to his lap, fingers twisting together.

"It's just - " Yuuji cuts himself off, and Satoru is intrigued at the pink tint to his cheeks now. "It's embarrassing." He manages to admit with a strained voice. 

"Embarrassing?" Satoru prompts, fingers tapping idly against his thigh and the back of the couch.

"Embarrassing to tell you, I think," Yuuji clarifies, still not looking at him. "It's a stupid thing to be stuck thinking about. It's really not serious."

"Tell me anyway," Satoru says, losing some of his patience without meaning to. He sighs at himself, before continuing in a softer tone. "You don't need to be embarrassed to tell me anything. I'm your sensei, you know? It's part of my job."

Yuuji peeks at him, hesitant and uncomfortable. He's never seen Yuuji this way around him before. They've always just kind of clicked - their personalities meshing well and having a very natural connection. Now, though, Yuuji isn't as open to him, and Satoru has to remember that he is his student. 

Despite how close they've gotten during the months they have spent somewhat living together while Yuuji is dead, he is an adult, one that his student might not feel all that comfortable telling everything. Satoru forgets other people have boundaries. He never had them with Yuuji, not even when they first met. Yuuji might be trying to set some up right now.

Satoru doesn't really want him to. Now isn't the time to be delving too deep into that.

"It's because you're my sensei, actually," Yuuji admits as if it pains him. "It feels weird to talk to you about."

Well, maybe Satoru should address his own lack of boundaries soon because, without much thought, he responds, "Then don't think of me as your sensei." 

Yuuji snaps his gaze over to him, brown eyes wide. Satoru smiles but feels his own body stiffen. He's trying to make Yuuji comfortable, not more uncomfortable. He sticks to it, though. 

"I'm just a friend you can confide in." He pauses, before tacking on, "If that makes you more comfortable." Satoru holds his breath, and Yuuji blinks before he's smiling brightly at him. Both of them relax, seeming to find solid ground again.

"I always thought it'd be odd to call you a friend," Yuuji says sheepishly, "but if you say it's okay - " Yuuji pauses, and never really finishes the thought, shifting around to face Satoru, their positions truly mirrored now. He can't help but feel a little giddy, though Yuuji isn't even bothering to hide the fact that he's vibrating where he sits.

"You were so scared to talk, and now you're buzzing with excitement!" Satoru calls out, leaning in a little closer. Yuuji at least looks somewhat embarrassed again.

"Well, I'm mostly just happy to get to talk to you as a friend, Sensei."

Satoru is admittedly caught off guard by the sincerity of that statement, but he tries not to outwardly show it, laughing loudly. "Then share away, Yuuji-kun! I'm all ears."

Now Yuuji's gaze burns into his blindfold, and Satoru really wants to remove the cover from his eyes. He thinks that might be a bit of a distraction for Yuuji at the moment though.

"I've been thinking a lot, especially after I died," Yuuji begins grimly, "about how I haven't really lived. I know that probably sounds silly! I'm only a teenager, after all!" Yuuji scratches the side of his face, but Satoru just hums encouragingly. "It's just - I know I'm not gonna live that long."

Now, Satoru starts to feel a knot form in his stomach. He doesn't particularly like thinking about this topic, for many reasons, but is determined to listen to whatever is on Yuuji's mind. Even if the topic of dying young and unfairly isn't a favorite. He wants to know where this is going.

"I've already lost the chance at living a normal life. I lost it as soon as I found that finger in the woods," Yuuji laughs, but it sounds hollow. "I'm not gonna get to experience plenty of things I thought I would. But," he pauses, twisting his fingers together in his lap. When he doesn't continue, Satoru nudges his foot against Yuuji's and leaves it pressed there.

"But," Satoru starts for him, "there are things you still can experience, right?" He doesn't try to convince him he can do everything he wants to before he dies, or lie to him about his fate. He can tell that isn't what Yuuji is looking for right now. 

"What kind of things are you wanting to do? Oh, or is it places? Where do you want to go? You know, I could take you anywhere you'd like, all you have to do is ask!" Satoru rambles excitedly, wanting to lighten the mood again. Based on Yuuji's genuine laugh, he's doing a good job.

"Maybe someday soon you can take me on an adventure, but I know you're super busy," Yuuji says, and Satoru tries not to frown at the lack of energy. He's well aware that, normally, Yuuji happily jumps on opportunities to be spoiled by Satoru. "It's more about the things I want to try. I've missed out on stuff that other teenagers got to do, and I'm not sure I will ever get to."

Satoru hums in understanding. "You're afraid you're not going to have a classic teenage life," Satoru summarizes. "You're correct in saying that any chance at a normal life is gone. You won't get to be a proper teenager."

Satoru states it bluntly, making it clear he is following the conversation. He knows Yuuji understands the situation he's in. There's no point in sugarcoating it. Yuuji smiles sadly, the light from the television glinting off the moisture in his eyes. Sometimes, Satoru wishes he could sugarcoat it.

"Not only that, but no one I know now has a normal life either," Yuuji continues. "Maybe it's different for me because I was normal. Is it self-absorbed to think that they wouldn't understand how I feel?" 

The teen looks ashamed to even be asking that, but Satoru is more proud that he's finally thinking about himself.  He hums, finger pressed to his chin in thought. He's not sure he's one to ask for advice on not being self-absorbed.

"I'm almost always self-absorbed, Yuuji-kun," he decides to say out loud. Yuuji scoffs. "But I don't think it's a bad thing at all to think your feelings are unique to you. They are. How you feel is important, and there's nothing wrong with having a hard time and not being sure anyone gets it. Your situation is entirely unique, too," Satoru points out. "No one has ever been in your shoes. Feel how you need to feel, and take care of yourself. In my opinion, you are who you should care about the most."

Yuuji nods in understanding, looking kind of stunned. Satoru doesn't fully understand how this boy could put himself so far down the list that, when he starts to feel like he's struggling, he thinks it's selfish to feel at all.

"If there are things you want to talk about, I'm right here, ready to listen," he continues. "Even if you think they are embarrassing, or strange. You know, I'm a super fun person to be around, so imagine how fun it is to gossip with me!" Yuuji openly laughs again.

"A very self-absorbed thing to say, Sensei," he teases through his laughter, "but you aren't wrong."

"Is it really all that self-absorbed if I'm always right?" Satoru responds cockily.

"I've always seen it as confidence!" Yuuji says, eyes lighting up. "If I were as strong and smart as you are, I would be the same way!" Satoru chuckles, relishing in the warmth of the praise. When it comes from Yuuji, it's meant with his entire soul.

"Speaking of you being confident," Yuuji mumbles, "I wanted to ask you about some stuff."

"Oh?" Satoru drawls. "What kind of stuff, Yuuji-kun?" The teen hesitates for a moment, cheeks flushing a little again.

"Well, you're so confident, and you're older than me, so you've definitely got some experience in," he pauses, "well, romance." Satoru's heart drops to his stomach for a moment, his mind instantly going to a certain romantic experience. He pushes it to the very back corner of his mind, gasping dramatically at Yuuji. 

"Romance?" He asks incredulously. "Yuuji-kun, are you in love?" The boy is quick to shake his head, flush growing darker at the question.

"No, no!" He denies it, hands waving in the air frantically. "I was trying to be appropriate!"

Satoru laughs at the display, quickly realizing what he means by romance. "So you're curious about sex?"

"Well, I - it's not - I was more curious about kissing, I guess," Yuuji stammers out. Ah, Satoru thinks, he hasn't even kissed anyone before. "Not that I'm not curious about - about sex, just. I haven't even had my first kiss yet."

Things fall into place all at once, and Satoru's heart aches a little.

"You think you will die before you get to experience your first kiss?" He asks quietly. Yuuji's foot presses up against his more firmly, eyes lowering with a sad smile.

"I did die," the teen corrects just as quietly. "I want to take full advantage of this second chance, you know?"

Satoru does understand. He sighs, trying to decide how to pull this conversation back out of the dark tone again. He snaps his fingers. "Boys or girls?" Yuuji blinks up at him, seeming to be confused for a few seconds.

"I don't know," he murmurs. "I honestly haven't had the time to think too hard about this stuff. Who am I even supposed to kiss?"

"What do you mean?" Satoru asks. "You go to school with boys and girls. And a Panda!"

"I don't want to kiss Panda!" Yuuji giggles.

"No fun!" Yuuji sticks his tongue out childishly, a laugh bursting out of Satoru. "Well, what about Nobara?" 

"She's not my type. She's a wonderful friend, but I don't want to kiss her." Satoru nods, and then leans forward, hands placed on the couch in the space between their legs.

"Do you want to kiss Megumi?"

This time, Yuuji averts his gaze, smile shy, and cheeks pinkening. "I don't think that's an option, Sensei."

"Huh? Not an option?" He can't help but ask incredulously. In the back of his mind, he wonders if it's the sexuality thing. He forgets not everyone is so loose about that sort of thing. He thinks maybe he should stick to the girls, but before he can backtrack, the teen chuckles.

"Fushiguro would never kiss me," Yuuji denies, "and he isn't exactly the kissing type." Satoru senses the self-deprecation lurking in that statement, even a little bit of yearning, but he decides not to push the subject. For now.

"Yeah, he's pretty prickly, isn't he?" Satoru whispers like it's a secret between them, living up to the gossip accusations. Yuuji giggles, leaning forward so they are closer together.

"I just don't think anyone in my class is kissable," Yuuji whines in disappointment.

Satoru leans even closer, face deathly serious before he whispers, "Nanami?"

Yuuji openly splutters, his face quickly turning red and rearing back in shock. Satoru falls backward with his laughter, the sound echoing through the basement.

"S-Sensei!" Yuuji squeaks out, appalled. "You can't just say things like that!" Satoru sits up, pretending to wipe a tear from his blindfold.

"Sorry, sorry," he half-heartedly apologizes, snorting at the look still plastered on the teen's face. "Don't you at least think he's attractive?" Yuuji slaps his hands over his face, hiding it from Satoru's view. "C'mon," he drags out, "you can tell me, Yuuji-kun! This stays between us, right?" 

Is it wrong to be discussing this type of thing with his student? Maybe. Is it even more wrong to also promise to keep it a secret? Possibly. Satoru finds he really doesn't care. What does it matter? They're having fun. He's just happy to see his student this at ease, given everything that has happened to him.

Yuuji peeks at him through his fingers, before moving them to press against his cheeks. "Nanamin is...kinda hot."

"Isn't he?" Satoru immediately agrees, leaning in again in excitement. Yuuji lets out a giggle, relaxing into the conversation again.

"Yeah, he got hotter the more time I spent with him," Yuuji admits, cheeks bright red but eyes bright and excited. Certainly not straight, then. "He scared me at first because he was so cold and strict. But he's not actually as bad as he wants people to think he is." 

Satoru hums in agreement. "I've known him forever, you know."

"Really? What was he like when he was younger?" Yuuji asks eagerly.

"Moody," Satoru says simply, causing Yuuji to laugh.

From there, he freely shares some stories about him and Nanami in their youth. He doesn't discuss everyone in the stories, but Yuuji is invested the whole time, and Satoru is thriving in the attention. He's so used to being ignored, to eye rolls, to sighs. Yuuji is different.

The boy lets out a boisterous laugh when he flattens his hair down to imitate young Nanami's hairstyle. Satoru even frowns deeply like the man would, Yuuji doubled over as the sound of his joy fills the basement as if it never left.

Much better.

"Stop it, Sensei, you're lying to me," Yuuji says loudly, "There's no way Nanamin had that kind of hair!" Satoru allows his hair to stick up again and grins deviously. 

"Oh? How about the next time you see him, you ask him about it," Satoru challenges. "You'll know I'm telling the truth when you see the look on his face." He imitates Nanami's 'I'm going to kill Gojo' face, something he's seen an uncountable amount of times, making the teen laugh once again.

He lets Yuuji catch his breath, wiping a tear from one of his eyes. His smile is still somehow so pure, his laugh unfiltered and real, and his golden brown eyes glow and shimmer when he's happy. Satoru can definitively say that Yuuji is good.

He's also so pretty.

Satoru knows he isn't necessarily a good person - his morals are wishy-washy, and while he does care about people and try to do good things, he doesn't really try to not do bad things. He's not a good person, but he's not a bad person.  

He's been questioned before about his unnatural closeness with his students, but those questions never really went very deep. After all, he cares about his students. He wants them to be better than him, and he will do what he can to get them there. So what if Satoru is touchy-feely with them? He's never let anything stop him, not even the sideways glances he gets for it. 

That being said, Satoru has never been inappropriate. Of course not - he has morals, they are just loose in places. While he's thought things that he shouldn't be thinking about, he's never acted on those thoughts. That ideology carries over to his care for his students, outside of being more physically affectionate and showing a little favoritism. What's so wrong with that?

Itadori Yuuji is no exception.

This boy is definitely his favorite student, and he's pretty sure everyone knows that. It's not like he hides it. He's not sure Yuuji himself knows, but that's okay. He doesn't need to know the extent to which he cares. Satoru is content to keep letting his Infinity down so the teen can hug him, or tug on his arm, or press their feet against each other on the couch. 

He is content to pet Yuuji's hair, press a finger to his lips, grasp his hands between his, hold onto his shoulders, and rest a hand on the small of his back, just to feel him and show him that Satoru cares. If he also enjoys the way Yuuji blushes at those frequent and intimate touches, well. That's an added bonus for Satoru. It's his secret pleasure and no one else's problem.

Now, though, as Yuuji gazes at him with a certain glint in his eyes and his bottom lip caught between his teeth, Satoru thinks it might become a problem for him. Never one to know when to quit, he does what he does best and pushes the boundaries some more.

"Well, if you think Nanami is super, crazy hot," Yuuji whines out an embarrassed Sensei, but Satoru continues anyway, "What do you think of me?" He leans down and closer as he asks the risky question, and relishes in the teen's darkening blush and the hitch of his breath. He can feel the shaky exhale on his chin, and he's too close, but Yuuji stays put. Whether it's because he's frozen in shock or something else, Satoru doesn't know for sure. The teen's gaze doesn't leave his blindfold though.

"Sensei, you can't ask me that!" Yuuji says, scandalized but unmoving. "How am I supposed to answer that to your face?" This makes Satoru laugh, because of course that's the worry he voices rather than the fact his teacher is asking him something wrong.

"Don't be shy," he teases quietly, "if you think I'm ugly, I can handle hearing it."

Yuuji's body jerks forward. "No way, I don't think you're ugly at all, Sensei!" Of course he doesn't, Satoru thinks. He didn't say it out of insecurity, he said it to get Yuuji to talk. It's working.

"Then what do you think?" He asks, leaning even closer after the teen closed more distance on his own. "What words would you use to describe me, Yuuji-kun?" 

The teen's eyes do waver, flickering down to his lips, but it seems to scare him, body jolting and eyes scattering to go up to his hair. Satoru smiles, enjoying the way he's successfully gotten under Yuuji's skin so easily. Just as he opens his mouth to tell him he's joking, to put an end to something he shouldn't have started, the boy speaks up.

"There's a lot of words, Sensei," he says, almost reverently. Knowing Yuuji, it probably is. "But you know you're not ugly, so do you really need to ask?"

And ah, Satoru realizes, he's noticed the game he's playing. Now the ball is in Satoru's court. He can laugh, and he can say 'You got me!', and he can ask about someone else and move on.

He doesn't do that at all.

"I want to know what you think," he drawls. "What makes me attractive to you?" He rests a hand on his own knee, fingers grazing against Yuuji's exposed knee. The teen doesn't react to the contact. He must be so accustomed to Satoru's touch. How dangerous, he thinks, to be used to it. Oh, how he wants to push. Yuuji's gaze shifts back to meet with his blindfold again, face conflicted and complicated. Satoru smiles gently, but Yuuji only scowls.

"You're just fishing for compliments now," Yuuji grumbles.

"You think someone like me has to fish for compliments? And from my student? How desperate do you think I am, Yuuji-kun?" Satoru dramatizes, though it is a loaded string of sentences. 

Is he used to praise and compliments on his looks and strength? Yes. Is he fishing for compliments from Yuuji? Yes and no. Yuuji praises his strength all the time but has never commented on his looks like others have. Is he really that desperate to ask his student for compliments? No. 

But also yes.

He doesn't need to hear more praise. But does he want to know what Yuuji has to say simply to add fuel to the disastrous flames of his own desires? Yes. 

Yuuji raises an eyebrow, not buying into something he said. 

"If you're too shy to tell me I'm totally hotter than Nanami, that's okay I suppose," Satoru sighs out. "I can live without hearing you say it." He deliberately brushes his fingers along the warm skin of his knee this time, letting them linger and drag without even pretending that wasn't his intention. Yuuji's leg shifts.

It shifts closer.

Satoru's grin almost falters, but he can't stop the way his head tilts to the side, possibly giving away his piqued interest if Yuuji is paying enough attention. His student swallows and he seems to be mentally preparing himself to speak. Satoru should stop this.

"You're totally hotter than Nanamin."

There's a pause, the silence deafening in the basement, a drastic change from mere moments ago. Then, Satoru laughs.

"Ah, you did the smart thing," he says, "You used my words!"

Yuuji gawks at him. "The smart thing? What are you saying?"

Satoru waves a finger at him disapprovingly. "I asked for your words, Yuuji-kun."

Yuuji blanches, face darkening and shoulders hunching up towards his ears. "Sensei, do you have any idea how hard it was to even say what I just said? You're being so unfair." Yuuji pouts in his embarrassment, and Satoru has been given another chance to back off, to let all of this go, to leave things be.

He pushes some more.

"You've already gotten this far, you might as well just tell me how you actually feel, right?" Yuuji glances up at him through his lashes, and Satoru holds his breath. He smiles casually at his student like he isn't the prettiest thing he's ever seen.

"I think that," Yuuji mumbles, pausing to lower his gaze again to his lap. "I think that you're the coolest person I've ever met. You're also super hot, like, in a different way than Nanamin." Satoru's breath finally escapes him in a surprised huff of a laugh. He loosens a leg from its crisscrossed position to press it up against the front of Yuuji's.

"You're so tall, and you're - you're quite big. You're insanely powerful and crazy attractive, and it's kinda unfair to be all of those things," Yuuji continues, voice shaky. "You're hot, Sensei. Of course I think you're hot."

Satoru simply hums, drinking in the warmth of the teen's skin and his honest words. His heart beats a little louder in his ears, and he can't imagine how Yuuji's heart must sound right now. Hearing Yuuji say these things is better than he thought it would be.

"See? It's not so tough to admit," Satoru says softly between them. "I'm flattered to hear you think so nicely of me."

Yuuji pouts at him again, the sight stealing his breath for a moment. "You hear stuff like this all the time, Sensei."

"You mean it," Satoru breathes out, speaking on instinct. "That's what makes it special." 

Yuuji just looks up at him in shock, mouth opening to say something but no words coming out. Satoru chuckles, deciding to ease back on the turn this conversation has taken.

"So," he drags out, "you think I'm hot?" Yuuji groans, head dropping so his face is hidden. "What was it you said? Ah," Satoru points a finger in the air, "I'm quite big!" The teen slaps his hands over his face again.

"Please don't remind me of what I just said," Yuuji whines behind his hands. "It's humiliating that you know the stuff I've thought of you." Satoru laughs and fights the urge to peel those hands away to see what face he must be making.

"I wonder what else you've thought about," he can't help but tease. "You didn't even mention my eyes. That's usually everyone's first thought!"

Yuuji's hands do fall now, face contorted in shame. "Sensei, I've never gotten to really see them." 

"Huh?" Satoru blinks behind his blindfold, leaning back. Yuuji was there during the fight with the volcano curse. Of course he's seen his eyes.

"A lot was going on back then, and there was a lot of stuff to look at, most of which I didn't even understand," Yuuji mumbles. "I saw glimpses of your eyes, but I didn't get to really see."

"Are you curious?" Satoru asks. Yuuji's eyes skim over his entire face.

"Of course I am!" He says, before deflating. "I just didn't think I could ask."

"Why's that?" Satoru questions gently.

"Well, I assume you wear it for a reason, and I didn't want to be rude or offend you." Which makes sense, this is Yuuji after all. He's always so kind and puts other people's feelings before his own.

"Would you like to see them?"

Yuuji's eyes widen, his body jolting forward and hands balancing himself on Satoru's calf. The warmth of his hands seeps through his sweatpants. "Can I?" He asks excitedly, smiling big and bright, and how could Satoru ever say no?

Allowing himself to be selfish, he lowers his head towards the teen. "Go on, then. Take it off." Yuuji hesitates for a few seconds, but he lifts a hand, leaving a cold spot on Satoru's leg in its wake. He freezes, anticipating the intimacy of what's about to happen.

Yuuji's fingertips brush along his cheekbone as he grasps the blindfold, the touch so meaningless and minor, but sends a thrill down his spine anyway. As Yuuji slides the cloth down over his nose, Satoru closes his eyes, his hair falling and tickling his face. He hears the teen's breathing hitch, the blindfold finally around his neck and exposing him fully. Satoru blinks his eyes open.

Yuuji gasps, his hand frozen in the air in front of his chest and eyes wide. Satoru grins.

"What do you think?" He asks quietly. Yuuji blinks a few times, his cheeks flushing.

"You look so different," his student says in awe. "I mean, I knew you did, I've seen you without the blindfold before, but not like this," Yuuji gestures to him from his head to their connected feet. "You're not in uniform or fighting. You just seem so comfortable. You look human. It's different."

Satoru isn't sure what to make of that. He asks the first question that comes to mind.

"So you don't normally view me as human?" He says it jokingly, but Satoru has conflicted feelings on the topic. He is often being compared by others - and by himself - to a god, untouchable and all-powerful, while also craving to be valued for who he is as a person. He wonders what his student thinks.

"I do! You're so human!" Yuuji blurts and then slaps his forehead. "Sorry, I'm not good at this." Satoru, still taken aback, grips the teen's wrist and pulls it away, lowering down so their eyes meet. Yuuji grimaces apologetically.

"Stop stressing, I'm only teasing you," Satoru reassures him. "I'm a lot to take in and explain, you know? I understand." Yuuji nods, arm going limp in his grasp. 

"I do think of you as a person, Sensei, I promise. Like I said, you're the coolest person I know," Yuuji smiles softly at him. "You always make me laugh, and you take care of me the best you can. You're the reason I've even made it this far. You're always showing me how much you care. That's a very human thing to do."

Satoru has no idea what to make of that. Not a single clue.

He thinks that it's possibly the first time anyone has acknowledged something kind about him that isn't related to him being Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer. People either admire him for it, or they despise him for it. Yuuji simply thinks he's cool, funny, and caring.

How unfortunate that Satoru cares about him in ways he shouldn't.

"Sensei?" Yuuji calls out worriedly. 

"Thank goodness," Satoru manages to sigh out, "not only do you think I'm super hot, but you noticed how funny and cool I am, too." And just like that, Yuuji is laughing again, and the awful feeling swirling in Satoru's throat slips away. "Sorry, sorry, I got us way off topic, didn't I?"

Yuuji places both hands back on Satoru's leg. He wonders if the teen even knows he's doing it, or if it's a mindless action for him. He doesn't care enough to ask.

"A little bit, but that's okay," Yuuji placates. "I do feel a lot better. I finally got some stuff out of my own head."

"There's still the problem of wanting your first kiss but nobody you're willing to kiss."

Yuuji sighs defeatedly. "Yeah, but I'm also the vessel of Sukuna. People are scared of me, why would they want to kiss me?"

"I'm not scared of anything," Satoru says without thinking too hard about it.

And suddenly, Satoru has a horrible, beautiful, terrible idea, his own words catching up to him and filling his head with all sorts of images. Based on Yuuji's widened eyes and soft oh, he's apparently thought something along the same line as him, and while he didn't mean to imply anything, it certainly hangs in the air between them, loud and clear. 

He has to backtrack, has to make his student think he was joking or something so he doesn't freak out - "Yuuji, I -"

"Can you do it?"

They speak at the same time. Satoru's wide eyes are on display, shock clearly distorting his face for his student to see as the question sinks in. 

"Huh?"

Chapter Text

Yuuji's face flares red, mouth snapping shut and hands completely withdrawing from Satoru. "Ah, sorry, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have even asked you that!"

Satoru is still frozen, watching as the boy melts in front of him on the couch in the basement of his house. His house, the one only he and Megumi know about, with a boy almost everyone thinks is dead. A boy that just asked him to - "Kiss you?"

Yuuji can't even look at him anymore, arms wrapping around himself and body curled in. "I'm sorry, Sensei, really, please don't be mad, I just - "

"Mad?" Satoru interrupts. "I'm not mad, Yuuji-kun." The teen does look up at him now, confused but relieved. Satoru is strung tight, heartbeat strong in his chest as heat pools in his stomach. "Why would you want me to do that?"

Yuuji takes a moment to breathe, before mumbling, "Why wouldn't I?"

Satoru takes a deep breath himself. "I'm old, you know."

Yuuji's eyes snap up to him in surprise before he laughs softly. "Yeah, but you know what you're doing because you're old." Satoru laughs in disbelief, hand pressed to his chest in a dramatic display of offense.

"Careful, Yuuji," he purrs out, face looming in close, "You'll hurt my feelings agreeing with me like that." Yuuji's smile falters, and Satoru notices the way his pupils dilate, black quickly swallowing the gold of his iris. Satoru feels the heat in his stomach spread lower.

"You're hot, Sensei," Yuuji whispers, the words fanning across his lips so enticingly. Satoru sighs back, unable to stop himself from swaying in closer, eyes lowering to the teen's lips. Who would know if he gave Yuuji this? What would the big deal be, especially given the special circumstance that is Itadori Yuuji? He's dead, and Satoru is just helping a student not drown in his cruel fate. If this would make him happy, why can't he do it?

He should stop this. While he cares about Yuuji, he is still being selfish, irresponsible, perverse. He shouldn't cross this boundary. He never has before, and he has always prided himself in how well he toes at lines, dances on them, really. But kissing a student? That would be like picking up the line and wrapping it around his own neck. 

"Ah, Yuuji-kun," he breathes out, gaze flickering back up to meet the teen's. It's pointless, though, because Yuuji is zeroed in on his lips. "You're my student, and I would get in a lot of trouble for doing something like that." 

Yuuji's darkened eyes snap up to his. "I won't tell anyone!" He's whispering still, even moving his face closer, hands squeezing his leg. Satoru chuckles, eyes closing and head tilting back.

"That makes it worse," he sighs out with a smile. Yuuji has no idea what he's really asking of Satoru. He's young, and his life will most likely be short. If Satoru gets a say, it won't be, but that's a thought for a different time. Yuuji doesn't know better yet, not really. It's one of those things that come with youth - you think you know everything, and you know what's best for you. Eventually, that leads to the tough part of being an adult - realizing you were an idiot, and you can't change the past.

Satoru knows that too well. 

"Please, Gojo-sensei," Yuuji begs quietly, eyes pleading, hands so warm, and cheeks so pink. Young. "I want to know what it's like, and there's no one I trust more with this than you." And ah, isn't that something. His eyes widen, but he recovers quickly.

"Trust, huh?" Satoru mutters, mostly to himself, knowing this precious boy should not be putting any trust in him at all with this, for many reasons. 

Yuuji glances at his lips again, and Satoru struggles not to preen. "No one has to know. No one even knows I'm alive right now."

And isn't that just terrible, Satoru thinks, his student stating things he's already thought of but could never say outloud. It's a bit jarring that Yuuji has even thought this deeply about it. He makes a noise of wonder, Yuuji's gaze flickering back up to meet his.

"You've thought hard about this, haven't you?" He asks teasingly. "How long have you wanted to ask me?" Now Yuuji's eyes widen, a flustered sound escaping him at Satoru's observation.

"I - I don't - I'm sorry, Sensei, it - " he stutters out, hands starting to pull back in his panicked frenzy, so Satoru gently grasps his wrists with a light laugh. Yuuji pauses at the touch, and Satoru can feel the way he's just barely trembling. "It's what I've been thinking about all night." He quietly confesses like he's ashamed.

"Asking me to be your first kiss?" Satoru asks, recalling his previous thoughts from this evening when he thought maybe Yuuji was distracted because he was thinking about him. He was correct, but he never would have imagined this. Yuuji nods, eyes downcast and shoulders hunched towards his ears. Aiming to soothe the boy, he shifts his grip to hold his hands in his own, thumbs rubbing along his knuckles. Yuuji's fingers curl around his tightly.

"I really do trust you," Yuuji reiterates. "I know you'll take care of me with this like you do with everything else. Plus, you're hot, and I like you a lot, so it just made sense to me," Yuuji trails off shakily, seeming to lose his confidence with his own logic. Satoru has to swallow and breathe in through his nose to ground himself.

This whole time, Yuuji has been sitting next to him and imagining kissing him.

"I can't," he whispers, the words tasting bitter, and it worsens at the disappointed slump to Yuuji's body, eyes fluttering closed with a quiet sigh. 

"I really, really shouldn't." Satoru squeezes his hands and lowers them to rest on their legs. Yuuji stares up at him, confused at first, but must see something shining through Satoru's eyes, because his body sways forward, face full of hope. Satoru can't do this, shouldn't do this - it's wrong and will paint the way he cares about Yuuji in a new light forever. But maybe doing this one, small thing for Yuuji could be good. He's so pretty, eyes glimmering with excitement at the possibility of having his first kiss.

Flawed, weak, and sinful. Satoru's not better than anyone else. He's human. Painfully, horribly human.

He raises a finger to press against Yuuji's lips in a shushing gesture and grins. "It's our secret, okay?" 

Yuuji's wide eyes are practically black again, nodding silently with a heaving chest. They haven't even kissed, and he's so worked up already. Satoru isn't much better, heart thundering in his chest and sick arousal scorching through his body.  

"I'll be slow, I promise. It's easy, so don't overthink it," Satoru reassures, and Yuuji maintains eye contact to show he's listening. It reminds him he's a student. His student. "Just do what I do, and you'll get the hang of it. You've always been a fast learner, so I have no doubts." 

Yuuji glows with the praise, fingers tightening over his hand, and he stores that reaction in a back corner of his mind. Satoru lowers the finger from his lips and cups the boy's cheek, the skin hot to the touch but so soft. Young. Yuuji doesn't breathe, doesn't move a single muscle as Satoru holds his face, and he can tell that, despite the praise and the attentive listening, he's already overthinking it. Satoru laughs, and the teen's gaze flickers to his lips with a startle.

"Relax," he breathes, tilting Yuuji's face up and smiling at him reassuringly. "Don't think. It's all instinct. Breathe through your nose, and relax into it." Yuuji breathes out, shoulders lowering and cheek resting against his hand more comfortably. "Good," he can't help but praise again, the boy's breathing stuttering briefly. Interesting. "Are you ready?"

"Yeah," Yuuji exhales shakily. The teen swallows, eyes burning into Satoru's with such intensity, and he wonders what his own eyes must reveal right now. 

"Close your eyes, then," Satoru instructs, his own voice a little unbalanced as well. Yuuji does as he's told without hesitation, and Satoru lets his carefully constructed facade slip away. He gazes down at Yuuji's mouth, lips full and slightly parted. He glides his thumb over to brush along his bottom lip, and oh, the way Yuuji leans into the touch is wonderful. All Satoru can see is pink - his flushed face, his trembling lips, his fluffy hair, and he thinks it might become his favorite color. 

He interlocks their fingers loosely on their legs and guides Yuuji's face closer, taking it slow like he promised he would despite every instinct he has right now screaming at him to do otherwise. The teen sighs, and Satoru closes the final inch between them, sealing his own fate to ease some of the pain of Yuuji's. 

It's a soft press, gentle and chaste, but it's warm and sensual all the same. Yuuji's top lip slots perfectly between his, and after the initial press, he pulls back and does it again, hoping the boy understands. Yuuji does.

With trembling lips, the boy presses back, putting more pressure against Satoru's bottom lip, and it's sweet. He's definitely thinking too hard, but it's fine. It's his first time. He'll let go eventually. Satoru eases the pressure and pulls back, lips disconnecting slowly. Yuuji exhales, the air hot against his mouth, and he almost dives back in. He waits.

"Understand?" He asks simply between their mouths. Yuuji nods, eyes still closed and so trusting. With the confirmation, he leans in and kisses him again.

It's still gentle and slow, not wanting to push the teen too far too fast, even if he thinks he could handle that. He wants him to enjoy this. It's not about what Satoru wants. 

He leads Yuuji, kissing him with care at first and taking it easy. When the teen starts getting the hang of it, warm lips meeting his with more familiarity, Satoru angles his head to kiss him with more depth, more intent. He hears Yuuji exhale through his nose, and then he tilts into the kiss, their lips slotting together so nicely, and Satoru wants to push, push, push.

He's already pushed enough.

He sucks on Yuuji's bottom lip, and the teen makes a quiet noise in the back of his throat that nearly makes Satoru's barely-there resolve crumble. He does manage to pull out of the kiss, needing to put a pause on the situation to gain some control back. As Satoru opens his eyes, Yuuji chases him, squeezing their interlaced fingers together to balance himself with the forward motion. As stunning as the display is, he holds more firmly to the boy's face to keep him still.

Yuuji takes some deep breaths before opening his eyes. He blinks blearily up at Satoru, hazy and lost in whatever he's feeling at the moment. Satoru makes sure his own breathing is quiet and controlled. 

"You've officially had your first kiss," Satoru announces happily, though with a hushed tone to not shatter the atmosphere too much. "How do you feel?"

Yuuji blinks a few more times, collecting his thoughts. "I like kissing."

Satoru huffs out a laugh at the simplistic but honest answer, stroking his cheek affectionately. "It's nice, isn't it? I enjoy it, too." He gazes at Yuuji, adoration most likely spilling out from every feature of his face, but that's okay. Yuuji's gaze wanders down to stare at his mouth again, his tongue poking out to lick at his lips. Satoru's fingers twitch on Yuuji's jaw. 

"Can we do it more, then?" Yuuji mumbles, expression pleading, and Satoru's stomach flips. He must see the uncertainty, because he's quick to add, "I want to know what it's like with tongue, too. Like how they do it in movies." 

It only makes his stomach flip more viciously, eyes slipping closed at the mere thought of having his tongue in Yuuji's mouth. He's not sure he can handle it. He feels fingers curl around his wrist, feels that warm cheek press more firmly into his palm, and he's so weak. He peeks his eyes open and takes in the sight of Yuuji, his precious student, holding Satoru's hand as close as he can against his face with his eyes shut. Young. Content. Willing.

His worries flutter away, and he closes the space between them and kisses him again. Desire is thrumming through his veins, heightened by the sharp inhale of surprise from the teen. Yuuji is quick to catch up though, relaxing into the kiss with ease yet gripping his wrist tightly.

Satoru licks at the seam of his lips, and they open right away. He slides his tongue in and immediately drags it across the roof of Yuuji's mouth to map out the ridges, before running it along the backs of his teeth. Yuuji is breathing harshly through his nose, clearly struggling, so he backs off and transitions to an easier kiss. 

He leans back and lets Yuuji pant into his mouth for a moment. "It's a lot, huh?" His voice comes out rough and low, and it isn't lost on Yuuji given the way he shudders in his hands.

"Again."

He doesn't have to plead this time.

Satoru goes into it with more force, the desire drowning out any guilt or doubts he may have had earlier. Yuuji opens up without being prompted, and he licks into that hot mouth again, Yuuji's tongue shyly pressing against his. Satoru wants to encourage him but doesn't know how to without speaking. He squeezes his hand and hums, the sound vibrating pleasantly, and Yuuji makes that quiet noise again. Good enough encouragement, he supposes.

Yuuji slowly slides his tongue along Satoru's, and he can't help but slip his hand around to the back of the teen's head, fingers scratching at his undercut. It forces Yuuji's tongue to go deeper, and he decides to silently tell him it's his turn to lead.

He retracts his tongue, and Yuuji proves himself to be a fast learner. He's hesitant, but he licks at the roof of Satoru's mouth and teeth, and it's so hot. He's overheating in his heavy black clothes now, sweat building along his hairline. The teen's undercut is sweaty, too, and he runs his fingers up into his dampening, pink hair, something he's affectionately done so many times. He'll never be able to do it again without remembering this moment - their tongues and hands tangled together in the most intimate of ways.

Lost in the moment, he pulls back and grazes his teeth on Yuuji's bottom lip before biting. It's not a hard bite, just gentle pressure, but the teen jolts anyway, his free hand twisting in the front of his crewneck and tugging. Satoru tongues at the spot he bit and seals their mouths in a wet kiss. Catching himself going a bit too far, his fingers curl and hold tight to those pink strands to tug him back.

Yuuji whines, a desperate sound so loud in the quiet basement, and Satoru doesn't dare to open his eyes yet. His dick twitches traitorously, and he's grateful he's wearing baggy sweatpants, his blood rushing there so fast his head spins. He pants softly, resting his forehead against Yuuji's, and wills himself to calm down, to not get carried away, to not do something even more insane than he already is -

"More," Yuuji whines, hot puffs of his breath the only air Satoru can take in, and it's intoxicating, dizzying. His neck and back hurt from the strain in their position, and it has to be hurting Yuuji more to be stretching up the way he is. His brain short circuits when he finally processes what Yuuji said. His eyes snap open, drinking in the view of his ruddy cheeks and swollen, spit-shined lips, and he can't breathe -

"Yuuji - " and it's meant to come out reprimanding because doing more of this - or more than this - is not an option. But instead, his voice betrays him, sounding as awed as he feels, the desire once again winning over the reasonable side of him. He takes a steadying breath. It's time to stop. "Yuuji, I've already let this go far enough, don't you think?"

Satoru tries to speak with finality, with the authority an adult has, but it doesn't really seem to work on Yuuji. The boy fists his crewneck tighter and whines at him, mouth tilting up closer. Satoru closes his eyes and sighs, head going fuzzy again, but he manages to stay firm.

"Please, Sensei, it's good," Yuuji says, the words sounding so urgent. "It's good, and I just want to feel it a little longer. I'll probably never get to do this again. Please - "

"Yuuji," he states, his frustration with himself starting to boil over. "Don't use your death to get what you want." At this, Yuuji jerks back, face distorted in disbelief.

"Using it?" He mumbles out, looking devastated, and oh, Satoru actually feels guilty for saying it. "I'm not using my death. It's just a fact, isn't it?" His voice starts to rise, his own frustration boiling over. "I'm not wrong for wanting what I'll never get to have. I know I'm being selfish for wanting more than what I'm given, but I can't help it. This is it for me, Sensei, and it hurts."

Satoru stares, stunned, never seeing his student this distraught, and it's over kissing, of all things. Though, it's not really about kissing, is it? Satoru takes a moment to collect his thoughts this time, not wanting to make it worse than he already has. He's not even frustrated with Yuuji.

"Yuuji, it's not wrong that you want things, and it's not selfish to try and experience all that you can when given the chance to," Satoru begins gently, both hands moving to cradle the boy's face. Yuuji's tearful glare softens. "However, I'm an adult, your teacher, and I can't be the one who does these things with you. You understand, right? It's too far. I've done more than I should have already." Yuuji shakes his head, hands reaching up to move Satoru's away.

"You've never cared about that stuff," he argues, "you always do what you want. So why do you suddenly have to act like you care now?"

"Yuuji - "

"If you don't want to, just tell me that," Yuuji interrupts loudly before his body deflates. "I knew it was a big ask to begin with, but you went along with it, so I thought it was okay," Yuuji's eyes are downcast, grip loose around Satoru's wrists. "It was nice for me, so of course I'm hoping for it to last. I know I'm not good at this, so it's probably not that fun or interesting to you. If it's that bad for you, that's fine, but don't lie to me."

Satoru is a caring man, even if others don't understand that. He's come to terms with being misunderstood, with being seen as an object, a tool, a weapon. But Yuuji has always been different, and maybe that's why this hurts. While Yuuji read him well a moment ago, pointing out that he's noticed Satoru's lack of solid morals or boundaries, he's got it all wrong now. Yuuji thinks Satoru's playing with him, is just having mindless fun, and it isn't entirely unfair for him to feel that way. Why would he think otherwise? Satoru wants to tell him, to grab him and shake him around, to scream I care! I care too much! I want this more than you do!

"I'm not lying to you," he manages to say calmly. "I would never have done it if I didn't want to do this for you," Or for me, his mind unhelpfully supplies, "It's just complicated."

"Just kiss me for a little longer," Yuuji pleads softly. "That's all I'm asking for."

"It's a lot more than you think it is."

Yuuji looks up at him, confused and upset, and Satoru shouldn't have said anything. "Then at least kiss me again so the memory of my first kiss isn't completely ruined by this." He sounds so hurt, and so frustrated, and Satoru knows this is his fault. He shouldn't have said anything at all.

"I'm sorry," he says, meaning it more than he ever has before in his life. "I didn't mean to ruin it for you, Yuuji." He moves to cradle his face again, and the boy lets him, eyes still damp and unhappy. He strokes his thumbs along his cheekbones.

"You didn't really ruin it," Yuuji murmurs. "I just feel a lot of things, and I'm taking it out on you. I'm sorry, Sensei - "

"Don't do that," Satoru quickly reprimands him. He's the one who's taking it out on Yuuji. "You're allowed to be mad at me, you know. I was unkind to you when I implied you were using your death. You're not the type to do that, and I don't know why I would ever say that. I should have considered you simply enjoy kissing. I must be pretty good, huh?"

Yuuji gives him a wobbly smile. "You're being arrogant again, Sensei."

"No, I'm being confident," he says, throwing Yuuji's words back at him this time, "because I'm a fantastic kisser. Naturally, you would want to keep kissing me," Satoru continues, the boy giggling a little. "I don't know why me, of all people, didn't think of that first. It makes perfect sense!" Yuuji's eyes close happily with a laugh, and Satoru feels that warmth return. He strokes his cheeks again with his own smile.

"I'm sorry, again," he apologizes, "I just don't want you to get uncomfortable or have regrets. Does that make sense?" Yuuji tilts his head consideringly.

"You mean like, you don't want me to get awkward with you later because we made out and I wish we hadn't?"

"Sure." Yuuji ponders it silently. 

"I don't think anything like that could ever happen. I mean, it's like you said, if I didn't want to do this, I wouldn't." Satoru blinks and feels a sort of pride that Yuuji listened to him well enough to use his words against him. 

"Well, at least you listen," he decides to tell him honestly. Yuuji scoffs, and his earlier feelings seem to have eased into almost nothing now. 

"Plus, you're the one who told me that, right now, you're my friend and not my sensei, right?" Satoru is, once again, stunned to have his own words used against him. "So can you kiss me again? Even if it's just a small thing? As a friend, I think you should, for being mean to me." 

Satoru gazes down at the boy he cradles in his hands. His pleading, golden eyes glinting playfully, his fluffy pink hair, his soft cheeks, his lips that are currently pouting exaggeratedly. How could he ever have tried to deny this? It's just kissing. Satoru can handle it. Yuuji is the excitable teenager here. Just keep it soft and easy, he tells himself. It'll be fine.

"I suppose I can make it up to you. A little more won't hurt," he sighs, already starting to lean in. He pauses. "Although, I don't like leaning this much. Here, sit up on your knees."

Yuuji does so eagerly, tucking his feet under himself and placing his hands politely on his thighs. Satoru chuckles and shifts forward, uncurling his long legs. He groans at the stiffness, sticking his tongue out when Yuuji scoffs out 'old man'. He repositions, one leg stretching somewhat around Yuuji and pressed along the back of the couch, and the other falling to the floor off the edge of it. 

Yuuji sits between Satoru's spread thighs, knees dangerously close to his crotch, but he's willing to risk it. They are closer together without having to strain themselves, and they aren't in a compromising position to accomplish that. He's satisfied, and based on the blotchy red sprouting across the boy's face, Yuuji is, too.

"Much better, yeah?" He asks, hands going right back to holding his face. Yuuji swallows.

"You make me seem so small," the boy breathes out. Satoru laughs.

"Cute," he says, the word slipping out. "I'm just so tall and big, remember?" Yuuji groans, embarrassed all over again at how he described him.

"Please stop bringing that up," he whines. "How long are you gonna tease me for saying those things?" Satoru hums in thought.

"Not sure," he says vaguely, making the teen groan again. "You should be having fun right now, Yuuji-kun! The big, tall, funny, cool, smoking hot guy who is super great at kissing is about to kiss you again."

"You're so full of yourself," Yuuji says, voice and eyes so fond it makes Satoru's heart ache. "You're lucky I like you so much, or all of those things would end up being unattractive and infuriating."

Yes, Satoru thinks solemnly, I know that all too well.

"I am lucky, aren't I?" He says it with too much honesty, so without waiting for a response, he swoops in and kisses him. He's hoping to convey affection this time rather than raw, barely concealed desire. This is for Yuuji, he reminds himself. Whatever Yuuji wants.

It's familiar, now, the way their mouths connect and reconnect. It's not perfect, the timing is sometimes off on Yuuji's side, but he already has the hang of how to do it. It's slow and warm, the way it was the first time around, and it really is nice. He almost jumps when his wrists are grabbed, and Yuuji is guiding his hand into his pink hair for him. Satoru follows his lead, letting the boy have this kiss go however he wants it to.

His fingers gently curl into his hair, his other hand sliding down to the side of his neck. Yuuji's pulse thunders in his throat, even with such a slow-paced kiss. Those warm hands fall away from his wrists and one presses flat against his chest. It's a soft touch, no pressure applied to push him away and no fingers twisting to pull him closer. 

Satoru sighs through his nose, angling his head when Yuuji leans in more, mouths slotting together deeper but no rougher. The boy licks at his bottom lip but doesn't try to press further, much to his disappointment. He doesn't have time to dwell on it, though, because Yuuji's free hand falls on his leg. His palm is warm against his inner thigh, and Satoru can't stop the shuddering breath from escaping him, the kiss breaking.

"Sorry," Yuuji gasps out quietly, "I was - it's for support, but I can - "

"It's okay," he interrupts breathlessly, kissing him quick and chaste. Yuuji's fingers squeeze, and his thigh twitches.

"Oh," the boy sighs and kisses him back. It's still slow, but there's an underlying frantic edge starting to peek through. He's not sure who it's coming from at first. Then Yuuji sits up more on his knees, balancing himself with the hands on his thigh and chest, and Satoru's fingers twist more harshly in his hair, hand on the back of his neck pulling him closer in response, and he realizes that maybe it's coming from both of them.

Yuuji licks at his mouth again, and Satoru opens up to him, willing to give him whatever he asks for. Their tongues meet, the kiss heating up quickly and getting sloppier, their saliva mixing and making everything so slick. Satoru lets it happen, trying not to think about it too hard this time because this feels fantastic.

The warm hand on his chest trails up to touch his partially exposed collarbones, and Satoru is trying. He's trying so hard not to lose himself to his own desires. Keep it together, he scolds himself. This is for Yuuji. In an attempt to slow down a little, Satoru loosens his grip on Yuuji's hair and pulls back to take in some air properly. Yuuji pants, staying close and gripping the collar of his shirt as if Satoru is about to disappear. 

 "Sensei," he shakily exhales, "not yet, please."

"What do you want, Yuuji?" He finds himself asking. He shouldn't be. Yuuji wants to be kissed. There isn't anymore he can give, anything he should give.

"Closer," he gasps out, knees shuffling in against his inner thighs. Satoru lets out a shaky exhale. He shouldn't. He absolutely shouldn't.

This was supposed to be a small thing, a simple kiss to make up for snapping at Yuuji over his internal conflict. He wants Yuuji. He's being selfish, and he's pretending like this is only for Yuuji, but he knows, deep down, he's doing this for himself, too. 

To keep pushing the boundaries like this, to keep obliterating the line between student and teacher, adult and child, right and wrong, is something he should be more careful about than he's being. He's not thinking with his brain, he's thinking with his dick. 

It'd be wrong to go any further than he already has with his fifteen-year-old student.

Satoru shifts, both of their hands dislodged from their positions and leaving him feeling cold. He sits properly, putting both feet on the floor and resting his body against the back of the couch. He opens his eyes, Yuuji's face dazed and sad, looking like a rejected puppy for a moment. 

But Satoru places a hand on the boy's ribs and urges him forward, his other hand patting his own thigh invitingly, and the air goes still, the anticipation feeling like static along his skin.

"Come here."

Yuuji does.

Chapter Text

Yuuji crawls up into his lap like it's natural, like it's normal for him, knees planted firmly on each side of his hips and hands grasping his shoulders. Satoru's own hands hesitate, the reality setting in slowly that he's just let his student climb on his lap, that he shouldn't be initiating anything, encouraging anything - 

But Yuuji is leaning in first now, lips soft and warm and wet, and his brain quiets down. He's only doing what Yuui asked for, after all.  

Yuuji is soft, still hesitant in his actions despite it all, but that's fine. Satoru's own hands are hovering, not sure it's smart to touch the boy's body right now. Yuuji himself is also hovering, not fully sitting on his lap, and that's fine, too. 

Maybe it's fine to guide Yuuji's hands in the same way the teen had earlier, holding his wrists and moving them up along his neck. He wants to let him know it's safe to touch, to go with whatever instincts he might have regarding kissing. That's part of the enjoyment - the angling, grasping, pulling, petting, all of it adds to the experience. That's what Yuuji wants, right?

Satoru sighs through his nose at the warm, calloused palms encasing both sides of his neck. Fingers brush through Satoru's white hair, and he wonders if Yuuji can feel how damp the strands are back there, the sweat building quickly on his undercut and forehead. The boy sits up above him just high enough his neck is craned back, and Yuuji must like that based on the way he leans down into the kiss with more force, more hunger. 

All thoughts seize when those fingers twist and pull his head back against the couch. Satoru gasps wetly, stars bursting behind his closed eyelids as Yuuji's tongue sinks in, and Satoru swallows down whatever noise he was about to let out. Yuuji definitely likes this.

Satoru continues to hover his hands, fingers twitching dangerously close to the boy's waist as he tries to figure out what would be a safe option when Yuuji fries his brain of all thoughts once again. Teeth close over his bottom lip and tug, and this time Satoru caves, exhaling sharply and hands gripping at the boy's ribcage harshly. Yuuji responds with a whine, and both of them stop to pant for a moment, Yuuji's loud and hitching and Satoru's deep and shaking.

Satoru's dick gives a twitch again at the sound of them, of Yuuji, of the feel of him in his hands and the taste of him in his mouth. He doesn't know whether to tug him closer or hold him deathly still. 

"More, Sensei," Yuuji pants out, and when Satoru opens his eyes, the boy's are pupils are blown. Yuuji's lashes flutter as his breath hitches, hands cradling Satoru's face with trembling hands, eyes flickering over every inch of his face. "You - Sensei, you look - " 

He never finishes, fingers tightening and tugging him back in for a softer kiss, and Satoru must be a sight right now. A revealing, shameful sight. He trails his hands down the teen's sides, satisfied at the way he arches into it. Reluctantly, he breaks the kiss.

"Yuuji, this is - " he pauses, swallowing. "This is the extent of kissing. There isn't any more to it."

"Then just kiss me more," Yuuji keeps one hand in his hair as the other glides down his shoulder to curl his fingers into his bicep. "It's good for you, too. I can tell." Satoru closes his eyes in shame. He really is a sight, then. "I've just never seen you like this before. You're blushing and everything." Yuuji strokes his cheek, an action so sweet that Satoru wants to curl up and die. 

"I'm asking for it, so it's okay," the boy continues quietly, moving Satoru's hand down to his waist. "Kiss me more, Sensei."

Satoru steps one foot further over the line he was already standing on.

He tilts his head to capture Yuuji's mouth with his, the teen moaning softly into it. He grips that waist tightly, giving in to the urge to tug him closer. As their tongues curl together, Satoru's other hand roams up the boy's back, feeling the hard muscle hiding under his hoodie. He wants to remove it, certain that if he's hot from all of this, Yuuji must be boiling alive. Not thinking too hard about it, he grips the zip in the front and tugs it down.

Yuuji catches on, releasing his hold on him to yank his sleeves down. Satoru helps him remove it, and Yuuji hastily throws it behind them somewhere.

"Thank you," he murmurs into his mouth before kissing him again. It's so polite, and Satoru wants to pound his head into the wall because Yuuji thanked him for letting him remove his hoodie. He saw no intention behind the action except consideration.

Satoru's hands return to where they were before, but it's almost too good now. He can feel his muscles shifting under the thin cotton t-shirt, back smoldering hot and the fabric damp. Yuuji palms at his chest, the kiss going from slow and deep to something more urgent, more force put behind every reconnection of their lips and meeting of their tongues. He's struggling to get enough oxygen in, head floating and lips tingling, and he can't imagine Yuuji is fairing any better.

A palm bunches his crewneck up and presses flat against his stomach, and Yuuji groans, sounding disappointed. Satoru huffs a surprised laugh through his nose.

"You're hot, too, so take it off," Yuuji pleads, apparently planning to skim over his displeasure that Satoru is wearing something under his crewneck. Yuuji doesn't allow time to answer, biting at his lip again and bunching the fabric up higher. He pushes the teen back to give himself space. 

He is hot.

Satoru takes his crewneck off smoothly, the air a cool rush on his skin. He tosses the garment aside much like the teen had and lets him take in the sight of him in his compression top. As wrong as it is, he takes pride in the way he's caught Yuuji off guard. 

It's black and form-fitting, not leaving much to the imagination in terms of his physique. All of it is new to Yuuji, no one ever seeing him this dressed down, much less in such tight clothing. He should feel disgusted with himself for enjoying being looked at the way Yuuji is looking at him. He's his student, he's fifteen years old, he's Megumi's best friend. He's young.

Yuuji stares, his cheeks dark and lips swollen, and he arches above him beautifully when Satoru holds him by the curve of his waist tenderly.

Yuuji is also doomed to die this young. In a twisted way he shouldn't admit, Yuuji is right. This is his chance to live. Why not put on a good show for him? Why shouldn't he do what he can to allow him to fully enjoy it? No one will know. Why is he holding back? His own morals? He already knows how whimsy those are, and apparently so does Yuuji. What's a little one-time fun for Satoru, if it means Yuuji can say he experienced something he wanted to before his untimely death?

Yuuji has been pleading, begging him to give him more, to touch him more, to show him more. Satoru is the best at everything, and he's holding back on someone who is asking him to give it his all. Someone who needs him to give it his all. Why?

He thumbs at Yuuji's swollen lips, his self-control beginning to fully crumble away as the boy's lashes flutter, his soft exhale warm and shuddering. Why?

"Sensei, I know I said you were big before, but you're big," Yuuji mumbles in disbelief, and Satoru laughs wholeheartedly, a spike of arousal shooting through him.

"Were you imagining I was a stick under all those clothes?" He asks teasingly, eyebrow quirked.

"No, but this is, like," Yuuji places a palm against one of his pecs, fingers splaying out, the action so bold, "way bigger than I thought." His eyes are wide but appreciative, and Satoru preens under it. 

"Yeah?" It's a breathless question, his own tone taking him by surprise. But he's so hungrily curious, and how can anyone blame him? Yuuji thinks he's big in all the right ways, and he is touching him so openly, and Satoru wants to kiss him again.

Yuuji's gaze flickers up to his at the prompt to say more, fingers from his other hand gliding across his cheek. His eyes are so dark, so heated, and Satoru figures he must look the same.

"Yeah," the boy says, voice sounding distracted. "I get why you're so arrogant, Sensei. You're really hot."

"Oh?" Satoru chuckles out, hands still roaming the boy's side absentmindedly.

"Your cheeks are all blotchy and pink, it's so - and your eyes practically glow in the dark. Did you know that, Sensei? And your mouth," Yuuji stops, trembling fingers grazing across his lips. "Your lips are usually the only thing I see, and they're distracting enough with all that lipgloss, or whatever you use. Now, though," he trails off, focused intently on his mouth. 

Fuzzy from all the praise, Satoru opens up just enough to be a clear invitation, and Yuuji's fingers dip in and run along his bottom teeth tentatively. He licks at his fingers teasingly, and Yuuji gasps at the sensation. Satoru is unable to look away, wanting to soak in every expression the boy makes. Yuuji prods further and presses two fingers flat against his tongue, the action gentle and exploratory.

He tells himself it's to be over the top to get a reaction out of Yuuji - Satoru isn't one to shy away from being controversial or zealous. But the way arousal scorches through his body at the wrongness of what he's about to do makes that thought dissipate into a pathetic pile of ash. 

Satoru is weak, he's human, so he raises his head up to seal his lips around those fingers down to the second knuckle, and he sucks. 

Yuuji does have a reaction - he chokes on a gasp, hips rolling forward mindlessly to seek out some kind of contact, and then he moans out, "Sensei."

Satoru grips his waist tighter, the shock of arousal so strong that his thighs tense up to just barely resist bucking upwards. He can't stop his own moan, however, and Yuuji's fingers curl against the backs of his bottom teeth, his free ones gripping at his jaw and chin tightly.

The teen is focused on his mouth, eyes wild, and it should be awkward, what with the way he's holding Satoru's mouth. They are quickly slipping out of kissing territory. Yuuji must realize that himself with how tense he is in Satoru's hands.

"Sorry," Yuuji says softly. "I should stop."

Satoru's brain has been screaming that sentence at him since he asked if Yuuji thought he was hot. Instead of listening, he holds Yuuji tighter, bunching his shirt up enough that his eyes catch on a small stretch of skin peeking out. 

Yuuji loosens his own grip, beginning to slide his fingers out of his mouth with no help from Satoru, who is reluctant, lips closed tight. Desperation claws up his throat, the real possibility that this is stopping, that it's over, actually making his stomach turn. He whines his disappointment as his mouth becomes vacant, and Yuuji shivers in response. He lets the wet tips of his fingers linger on his bottom lip, eyes still trained there intensely. Satoru shouldn't be hoping that the teen wants to continue a little longer.

He hopes anyway.

"People kiss in other places, too," Satoru's voice is pitched low and raw as he coaxes him into more. "I can always show you that." Yuuji's gaze finally meets his, and the burning intensity sends a pleasant thrill down his spine. Please say yes.

"Yeah," the teen finally responds, nodding his head. "Yeah, okay."

Distantly, Satoru wonders when it became him who was asking for more, who was begging for it to continue a little longer, who was trying to convince Yuuji to do all of this. 

"Good," he praises, and Yuuji's eyes flutter shut. "C'mere." The teen scoots closer on his knees, body hovering over his lap now instead of his thighs. Their chests brush together, and Yuuji places his hands on Satoru's bare biceps, giving them an appreciative squeeze. Satoru smiles, leaning in to peck him gently, easing them back into it.

Yuuji sighs, melting into the kiss and his hold so beautifully, body arching so their chests are flush and one hand gliding up hotly to hold the back of his neck. It's so intimate like this, something slightly different than before. Maybe it's the fewer layers of clothes, or the sudden sway of their bodies getting closer, or the way their hands roam a little more freely than before. Maybe it's the way they kiss with familiarity, leisurely and comfortable and warm, in a way Satoru hasn't kissed in years. 

A decade.

He breaks the kiss and presses his lips to Yuuji's cheek, the skin hot and soft, and works his way down to his sharp jaw. The teen arches further, his head tilting back so Satoru can kiss his neck with ease. He licks at his pulse point, the boy's heart racing under his tongue, and Yuuji gasps, his fingers gripping his hair to force his head closer. Satoru hums against his skin and sinks his teeth in.

Yuuji moans, loud and surprised by the sensation of being bit like this. Satoru feels the rush himself, hands sliding under his shirt and up along the expanse of Yuuji's curved back and taking in the heat of his soft skin. He pulls Yuuji in against him more firmly, the boy's nails digging into his bicep and scalp. Satoru sucks a mark right over his pulse, and he has a moment again where he thinks 'I shouldn't be doing this', but who's going to see it?

He's the only one who sees Yuuji right now. Satoru is showing him what hickeys are, that's all. Maybe Yuuji can give him one back. This is a learning experience. That's what this is. 

That's why Satoru is giving him a second hickey, groaning into his neck when Yuuji yanks his hair and drags his nails down his arm. That's why Satoru wraps his arms securely around Yuuji's torso so their bodies are flush, while he licks up the entire expanse of his neck in a slow drag, salty sweat heavy on his tongue. 

That's why Satoru encourages Yuuji to come closer, the command whispered into his neck as one of his hands lowers to his hip to guide him. That's why Satoru lets Yuuji rock forward with a high-pitched whine, his hard dick grinding against Satoru's abdomen. That's why Satoru responds with a low groan, teeth latching at the junction point of Yuuji's shoulder and neck. 

This is for Yuuji. This is to show Yuuji what it's like. What exactly was he supposed to be showing him? What started this?

"Sensei, please," Yuuji moans, head dropping low so his mouth is next to Satoru's ear, his desperate pants making him lose his train of thought. He unlatches his teeth to rest his forehead there instead, head spinning. There was a purpose to what they were doing, wasn't there? Is that what Yuuji is asking for?

"Yuuji," he manages to croak out, trying to get his brain back online. "What do you want?" 

The teen rolls his hips forward again, and Satoru's breath hitches, his hands holding Yuuji's hips to halt the movement. This isn't what they were doing. He was supposed to be teaching him to kiss, show him what it's like, but this -

Yuuji makes a pained noise, hands clawing at him in frustration. He leans back to look down at Satoru with wide, desperate eyes. "No, please, don't stop, show me," he cries out, voice slightly panicked, and Satoru freezes under him. 

Yuuji holds his face in both hands and presses their foreheads together, body rocking against his. Satoru can't think anymore, can't see or hear or taste or feel anything but Yuuji, Yuuji, Yuuji - "Show me everything, Sensei, please. I wanna feel good. I'll be good. I'll listen, and I'll do what you say, I promise. I'll be so good, Sensei, please - " 

Satoru snaps.

His blood roars in his ears as their teeth clash with the force Satoru uses to kiss him. Yuuji makes a pained sound, but Satoru is too focused on getting the boy properly seated on his lap to pay it any mind. He groans at the firm pressure of Yuuji's ass sitting on his cock, and he feels an answering one vibrate around his tongue and in his teeth.

Yuuji moves in earnest now, any shyness or trepidation from before evaporating as his whole body rolls into him, hips seeming to not know if they want to grind down against his cock or forward to get relief for himself. Yuuji pulls out of the kiss to throw his head back, gasping for air, obviously getting overwhelmed quickly with all the new sensations at once. Satoru loves it, a wild grin splitting across his face. He rocks his hips up into him harshly, entranced by the flushed, debauched face the teen is making already. 

"Yuuji, we haven't even done anything and you're such a wreck," he can't help but tease. Yuuji just moans, hips jerking harder, and Satoru is arrogant enough to believe it's because of his voice. "Do you really think you can handle more?"

"Doesn't matter," Yuuji manages to say. He locks eyes with him, hands still holding his face tightly, "I want this so badly. You don't hold back on me in training, so don't start now, Sensei," Yuuji grits out, knocking their foreheads together. "Tell me what to do, and I'll do it."

Satoru sucks in a breath through his teeth, the teasing grin falling from his face. He grips Yuuji tight and grinds him down harder against his aching cock. Yuuji moans and quickly matches the rougher pace.

Satoru gazes up at him, adoration and affection flooding his system, mixing with the arousal. His mind is finally blank of any thoughts that might ruin this for them. He can't remember what he was so worried about in the first place. He's certain this is the best idea either of them has ever had.

"You've always been such an attentive and quick learner. You'll do what I say, yeah?" Yuuji's eyelashes flutter, breath catching in his throat. 

"Yes, Sensei." He replies. Obediently.

"Good boy, Yuuji," he praises, petting the warm skin of his back when the teen shudders. "Can you cum just like this?" Yuuji nods enthusiastically, hands falling from Satoru's face to grope his chest instead. "Then that's what I want you to do." 

The boy moans and starts grinding in earnest against his stomach, Satoru's hands roaming down to his thighs, the muscles flexing with his movements. If he didn't know any better, he'd be worried about Yuuji getting tired or sore, but this kid has more stamina than most adult sorcerers before he consumed Sukuna. Plus, he's done physical training with Yuuji, and he knows first-hand how long he can fight Satoru without getting tired. 

Satoru has no doubts that Yuuji can cum more than once, too.

He slides his hands under his athletic shorts to grope at his thighs, humming in appreciation. Yuuji is making so many sounds, head thrown back as he chases his own pleasure, and Satoru couldn't be happier to see him act so selfishly. His own cock is aching, throbbing painfully where it's confined in his tight briefs and baggy sweatpants. Every random jerk of Yuuji's ass that manages to give him friction is practically torture for him, but he craves so badly to have the boy lose it while on his lap.

Just as he's thinking it, Yuuji's weight returns, his body sliding down some, and their cocks drag against each other. Even through all their clothes, the contact and friction is so intense and intimate. Satoru's head falls back, hissing at the teen's cock rutting along his so deliciously, and Yuuji takes full advantage.

The teen leans forward and licks up his throat slowly, moaning against the skin, and he lightly nibbles under his jaw. He's unsure of himself, his hips not moving as much now as he tries to do more than one thing at a time. While Satoru truly appreciates the effort, this is about Yuuji.

"You're doing so good, Yuuji," he practically moans the words, "Don't lose focus, though."

Yuuji drops his head to his shoulder, panting into his neck as his hips pick back up their previous pace. The teen is steady with it, slow and fully taking in the way it feels to grind their cocks together. He lets Yuuji do this his way, because Satoru knows he himself can't cum from this, but someone as young and inexperienced as Yuuji can. 

The rhythm is good, though, and Satoru isn't unaffected by any means. He hasn't been this turned on in years. When Yuuji's movements get faster, and his moans become more desperate, he knows he's getting close.

"C'mon, Yuuji, you can do it," he encourages in his ear softly, "You're so close, aren't you?" Yuuji nods, a broken moan bursting out of him. His hands pull at his shirt, pulling it up enough that the boy can actually press his palm to his stomach this time, fingers trailing over the hard lines of his abs. The touch is electrifying, and Satoru can't help himself. 

He slides his hands up his thighs and around, gripping his ass in his hands and guiding him more firmly. Yuuji cries out, his upper half lax against him while his hips roll so sinuously. Satoru's cock pulses, images flying through his head as he kneads at Yuuji's perfect ass - the boy undressed and drenched in sweat, crying and begging as he rides Satoru's cock, cumming all over their stomachs with a sob of his name -

"Fuck," Satoru groans, hands pulling at Yuuji harder and faster, and the teen is either drooling or crying, something wet smearing along his neck.

"Please, please, please," Yuuji begs softly, nails cutting roughly into the skin of his stomach and forearm. "I wanna cum, Sensei, please - "

"Do it, baby, c'mon," he huffs out, desperate himself to see Yuuji fall apart. The boy cries at the endearment, mumbling something incoherent into his skin as his body starts to go rigid, fingers so tight on his forearm Satoru thinks it might bruise. "Cum for me, Yuuji."

Yuuji's breathing hitches and stops, hips stilling, and it's so quiet as his thighs tighten and tremble. Then, a sob tears out of his throat, the sound music to Satoru's ears, arms wrapping around the boy's middle to hold him close through it. Yuuji wraps himself around his neck, face pressed into his hair as his hips rut their way through the aftershocks, a wet warmth grinding against his cock, and it's fucking beautiful.

Satoru is whispering soothingly, though he's not sure what he's saying. He isn't even the one that just had an intense orgasm, but he certainly feels high, heart racing and breathing unsteady. It's like every nerve in his body is alive, sparks ready to ignite into a full-blown fire at one drop of gasoline. He's on edge, and Yuuji is - well.

The teen is shaking in his arms, breathing loud and choppy, and he's holding on to Satoru like his life depends on it. Though, he's holding on to Yuuji just as tightly. He can feel the way Yuuji's cum has soaked through his underwear and shorts, his cock throbbing painfully at the fact that Yuuji just came, body writhing on his lap as if it's what he was made to do instead of being a vessel. Now that it's over, he tries to slow his breathing, calm himself down a little -

"Sensei," Yuuji says, voice breathless and raw, and Satoru's cock jerks at how wrecked he sounds. He'll never hear Yuuji using his title the same way ever again.

"Teach me how to make you cum."

Chapter Text

Satoru was wrong. He was so incredibly not correct in his earlier mindset. 

He could definitely cum just like this.

He hasn't cum in his pants since he was a teenager, much less from just dry humping, but with what Yuuji has just requested and the way he continues to grope him, Satoru doubts himself. Yuuji squirms in his lap, his hand going fully under his shirt to feel his entire torso, mouthing at his neck. Satoru blinks at the ceiling, genuinely surprised.

"You want - " he cuts himself off with a groan, Yuuji putting his whole body into grinding down against him. 

"Let me do this for you," Yuuji pleads, "I owe you."

"Yuuji, you don't owe me," Satoru says sincerely, holding him tighter in his arms. While this feels amazing, he doesn't want the boy to feel like he's in debt to him. But Yuuji leans back, placing both hands on his chest, and stares down at him with half-lidded eyes. Satoru's breath catches. He looks beautiful like this. Powerful.

"I owe you everything," Yuuji murmurs, tone serious and final, the several meanings to his words sitting heavy on Satoru's chest as the teen pushes up his shirt slowly. "Plus, I've already told you - I want to do this." Satoru's arms fall away, gently resting his hands on Yuuji's thighs as he gazes at his exposed abdomen, letting him take in the view. He still looks so hungry. Guess he can go more than once, Satoru confirms to himself. 

However, letting Yuuji grind against him until he gets off to ease tension was one thing. Letting Yuuji get him off doing...well, whatever he plans to try, is something else entirely, isn't it? He was leaving it up to Satoru, though. Teach me how to make you cum, he had so boldly asked. Satoru remembers when Yuuji was flustered at him even mentioning sex at the very beginning, and he can't help but chuckle.

"What's funny?" Yuuji mutters, hands freezing against his skin. Satoru pets his legs reassuringly.

"Since the first moment we met, you have never failed to take me by surprise," Satoru admits, words flooded with astonishment and disbelief. Yuuji seems taken aback but smiles sweetly down at him.

"Is that good or bad, Sensei? I can't tell."

"Good," Satoru immediately breathes out, "It's very good, Yuuji. I like that about you." He shudders at the way the teen bites his lip and rolls his hips, the action getting his blood pumping again.

"Will you show me, then? What do you want?" Yuuji asks, hands roaming to his chest, palms burning into his pecs. Satoru chuckles again, a million things running through his head that he wants.

"Don't ask me that," he says softly, half-serious. Yuuji hesitates.

"I'm asking."

Satoru blinks open his eyes, not even sure when he closed them to begin with to stare at Yuuji in warning. "Yuuji - "

"Sensei," the teen interrupts, almost mockingly as he leans down to kiss his jaw. "I'm here, asking for it. Why are you still holding back on me, after everything that just happened? You clearly want this," he emphasizes his point with a hard thrust backward against his cock, "so just let it happen. Tell me what you want."

Satoru groans, holding on to Yuuji's hips for dear life, because fuck, he has a good point. But the things Satoru wants are too much. He couldn't, not when he only had his first kiss tonight. Yet he wants to feel Yuuji's calloused palms everywhere, he wants to take him apart with his fingers and tongue, split him open with his cock, choke him on it  -

"Gojo-Sensei," Yuuji whispers into his ear, bringing him out of his head. "I'll do anything. I want you so badly it hurts. Please, let me." Yuuji leans back, eyes filled to the brim with want, with desperation, with something that Satoru can't place, something that screams Do it, do it, do it. 

It doesn't have to be anything crazy. He's already gone this far, so he might as well finish, right? It's not a big deal. It's not. It's fine.

Satoru nods, swallowing around the feral urges trying to claw out of his throat. He gives Yuuji's hips a confirming squeeze, a flare of excitement lighting up the boy's eyes. 

"Okay," he answers softly, "I'll let you." 

Yuuji whines, pressing their foreheads together and rolling his hips down against him. Satoru glances down, down at where their bodies meet, and groans at the obvious wet patch at the front of Yuuji's shorts. The teen continues to pet his chest, nails lightly dragging down it, and Satoru really does want to cum, but he doesn't want this feeling to end either.

He feels out of reality, as if this isn't really happening to him. As if there won't be consequences to all of this. As if he isn't doing something wildly inappropriate. But it feels good. None of that matters right now, head up in the clouds and body consumed by the sensation of Yuuji. 

Satoru moans, the loudest one he's let loose yet, whenever Yuuji presses down and rotates his hips in a circular motion. Apparently picking up that that was a good move, he does it continuously, slowly but firmly, the teen's breathing erratic.  

"Fuck, Yuuji," he curses, fingers digging in so hard to the boy's hips that it will probably bruise. Probably isn't good enough. He lifts the boy's shirt to slip his fingers under the edge of his shorts and boxers, just enough to press directly to the skin of his hips. Satoru wants to definitely leave bruises.

Yuuji sits up, eyebrows furrowed and mouth open as he sits on his clothed cock. The boy looks lost in it, and then one of his hands grabs Satoru's knee behind himself, body arching as he grinds up with leverage, and Satoru has a brief moment where he stops breathing entirely. He thought he looked lost before, but now, Yuuji poses like he is actually sitting on Satoru's cock.

Satoru watches, enraptured by the sight of him, the feel of him, and his mouth opens to speak.

"Look at you, Yuuji," he cooes, enhancing the teen's movements with his hands on his hips. Yuuji locks eyes with him as he continues. "Doing so good for me. It's like you were made for this. My favorite student," the words crawl out from the deeper parts of his mind, but now that he's opened that door, he can't close it.

"You would take my cock so well, wouldn't you?" Yuuji's movements stutter, a moan ripping out of his throat at Satoru's question. "You're thinking about it, too, aren't you? Tell me."

"Yes," Yuuji nods, the single word raw with honesty. 

"Do you touch yourself thinking of me? Do you fuck yourself open imagining it's me? Do you cry out for me when you cum, Yuuji?" The questions start falling from Satoru's lips unfiltered. 

"Yes," he sobs out, and apparently, a similar door has opened for Yuuji. "Yes, Sensei, I think about you all the time. You're all I think about." Satoru groans, hips bucking up into Yuuji's deep grinds.

"Want it inside, Sensei, I can feel it, it's so big - "

Satoru grabs Yuuji and forcibly moves him, laying the teen flat against the couch without fully realizing his own actions until he's hovering over him, breathing heavily. Yuuji blinks up at him in a daze but doesn't seem to mind the turn of events, his legs wrapping around his hips and tugging him down to kiss him, open-mouthed and messy. Satoru grinds down, the boy whining around his tongue, fingers gripping his hair to the point his skull throbs.

Satoru starts up a rhythm, their hard cocks lined up perfectly in this new position, and as he pulls out of the kiss to gaze down at Yuuji - the boy's eyes wet, hair a mess, cheeks a deep red, and his lips bruised and slick with spit - Satoru can say he's never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

His hips thrust languidly, his pleasure climbing to a new height at having the boy under him like this, and then his hearing fully comes back to him.

" - ease, Sensei, please, wanna cum, wanna - "

"So pretty, baby," Satoru says through his pleas, "Fuck, I want to make you cry on my cock, Yuuji."

Satoru shoves three fingers into Yuuji's open mouth, smiling when the boy happily sucks on them with a garbled moan. "Would love to see you take my cock here, too, because - well," he shoves his fingers in his far as he can, with no reaction from the boy. His smile grows wider. "You have no gag reflex, after all." 

Yuuji blinks open his eyes, gaze full of tears and his cries muffled due to his mouth being full. Satoru can practically see it, can see his cock filling Yuuji's throat, tears spilling down his cheeks and drool leaking from his mouth as he simply takes it. His hips grind down harder, his control gone now as he ruts against the teen with obvious desperation. 

Yuuji squirms under him, hands scrabbling against his ribs trying to pull him somehow closer. Satoru can sense it, can tell they both are about to tumble over the edge, and this time he wants to see it. He pulls his fingers out and grabs his jaw with a wet grip, forcing Yuuji to keep looking at him. 

"Sensei," Yuuji gasps, his hands grabbing the sides of his face fervently, "I want it all, I want everything. I want to see you cum, Sensei, wanna be the one that did it."

"Fuck, baby, I'm - " Satoru is unable to finish his thought, the coil of pleasure in his gut growing tighter and tighter hearing Yuuji say something like that. His mind is foggy, buzzing with nothing but the need to chase his own pleasure, body rocking into Yuuji's with all rhythm lost. The teen's heels dig into his ass as if he's trying to get him in deeper, and it's so fucking hot that Satoru growls.

"C'mon, Sensei, fuck me," Yuuji rambles, mouth on autopilot like Satoru's, eyes unfocused and fingers clawing their way back into his hair. Satoru's cock throbs, hand falling to hold the teen's throat possessively, and as he stares down at Yuuji, he imagines he's truly fucking into him, rough, and fast, and so deep inside of the tight heat of his body - "Fuck me, fuck me, Sensei, fuck, please - " Yuuji babbles, body going taut under Satoru, and the coil snaps.

Satoru's vision bursts with white stars, mouth opening around a broken moan as he rocks through his orgasm, hand squeezing around Yuuji's throat. His cock pulses hotly, cum pouring out of him and dampening his briefs, shivers wracking his body as he curses his way through it mindlessly. A choked-off cry brings him back enough to watch as Yuuji cums for the second time, eyes rolling back and body arching off the couch, hands pushing and pulling at his shoulders deliriously. Satoru releases his grip, the teen sucking in a loud, shuddering breath as he melts into the cushion, body losing all of its tension but hips continuing to give half-hearted jerks that Satoru can't help but meet.

When all movement slows to an overstimulated stop, Satoru stares, and tries to catch his breath, and stares. Yuuji is wrecked, face flushed and hair soaked, the hickeys Satoru gave him glowing red on his neck, shirt covered in dark sweat spots and shorts absolutely ruined after cumming in them twice. Satoru probably doesn't look much better, his own cum cooling stickily in the confines of his clothes, and it's uncomfortable, but he doesn't dare move away quite yet. He stares, and he breathes, and his mind starts to fizzle back to life as the boy under him closes his eyes and strokes Satoru's biceps, lost in the afterglow.

Everything happened so fast that Satoru can't even fully process it. He really just came in his pants, rutting like a teenager against a teenager, and more importantly, his student. The longer he lets his brain power back on, the more the things he said to Yuuji start to sink in, the brutal reality that he meant every word and has yearned for this for longer than he wants to admit to himself right now.

Satoru lifts a hand to brush Yuuji's damp hair away from his forehead, and he feels his heart ache at the way he leans into it, eyes still blissfully closed and unaware of Satoru's inner turmoil. Unaware of how bad of a person Satoru actually is.

What has he done?

"Yuuji - "

His phone rings. Yuuji squeaks in fear and surprise at the shrill sound suddenly blasting through the basement, and Satoru's own body jolts. Reluctantly, he sits up on his knees and leans over to grab his phone off the table. Satoru scowls, but accepts the call.

"What?" He answers blandly. His eyes stay on Yuuji as the teen looks down at himself, fingers twisting together anxiously. His face is contorted with something, not regret but...fear? What is it, exactly?

"Sounds fun," he interrupts the voice over the phone that is explaining a mission he's supposedly needed for, "I'll get there when I get there." He hangs up, not feeling at all bad for how disinterested he is. He doesn't want to go save people or deal with curses right now. Not at all.

This was a big deal. Based on the look on Yuuji's face, which Satoru is starting to recognize as shame, he really messed up. He steels himself to speak without knowing what to say.

"Sorry, Yuuji," he apologizes softly, "I have to work."

Yuuji looks up at him before sitting up slowly, arms wobbly under him. "It's okay. How long will you be away this time?" His voice is shaky and meek, and Satoru swallows around the lump in his throat.

"I doubt it would be more than three days," he says lightheartedly despite it all. Satoru stands and is a little surprised to find he's actually dizzy, knees close to buckling. He doesn't outwardly show it, taking a small moment to compose himself before moving to slip his shoes on. 

Yuuji doesn't say anything until Satoru faces him where he sits on the couch with his knees pulled to his chest and arms wrapped around his legs. He looks small, like he's trying to soothe himself, or maybe hide himself. He looks sad.

Satoru pulls his blindfold out from where it got tangled under the hem of his shirt, and slides it back in place, damp hair curling out of the top messily. He doesn't want Yuuji to see his eyes right now. He needs to change his clothes, and realistically he wishes he could shower, but there isn't the time for that. He could shower, and he could just show up late the way he always does. Satoru has never been early in his life, and he's not any better at showing up on time either. He's always late.

He tries not to think too hard about the fact he's reluctant to linger now. 

He walks around the couch to head towards the stairs so he can go change and clean up, but hesitates, knowing even for him, that would be cruel.

"Yuuji," he calls gently. The teen turns to gaze up at him, shame and anxiety clearly painted across his entirety. It makes him sick. "If you get lonely, I'm only a phone call away. Please don't hesitate to call me. Even if it's for no reason at all." Yuuji blinks up at him, surprised, but nods, making a small sound of understanding. 

Still not feeling satisfied with leaving, he leans on the back of the couch and ruffles Yuuji's hair before pressing a kiss to his forehead. Yuuji's breath hitches in his throat, and his wide eyes stare up at him with a glimmer of hope behind them now.

"I'll bring you back a souvenir." He says with a small smile, before forcing himself to let him go and turn to walk up the stairs. 

Before he makes it halfway up, Yuuji calls out sincerely, "Be safe, Sensei."

His heart flutters in his chest, and he turns to him with a toothy grin. "I'm the strongest, remember? Oh, and don't slack on your training while I'm away, or else!" Yuuji groans, but also laughs, and the sound echoes in his ears until he's in his room with the door shut. His heart is still fluttering away, lips tingling from where they touched Yuuji's forehead. 

Satoru leans heavily against the closed door, clutching at his chest and pressing his fingers to his lips grimly.

He shouldn't be feeling this. 

He has really, really messed up.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

The teen's choked-off moan of surprise has him grinding into his hand, satisfaction curling his lips into a smile. "I - do you mean - "

"You have fingered yourself before, right? You weren't lying to me, I hope," Satoru asks coyly. 

"I have, but I - " Yuuji shakily starts, "it's weird."

This gives Satoru pause. "Weird?"

"I mean, I can only - ah, it's awkward to say the words, Sensei," the teen mumbles, voice strained. Satoru takes a deep breath, reminding himself this is all new to Yuuji. He eases back for a moment.

"It's okay, Yuuji. Use whatever words you're comfortable with. I need you to be honest. This is for you, after all. If you don't enjoy it, what's the point?" Yuuji sighs at Satoru's more grounded words.

"Thank you," he says softly, "It's just that I've only - used my own spit. Before. So it was - it felt weird sometimes. Not bad! I think I could enjoy it more, though, and really just thinking about something - something inside of me is better than actually using my fingers, which sounds dumb, but I - "

"Bottom drawer."

Yuuji stops rambling at Satoru's calm interruption. "Bottom drawer?"

"In my nightstand by the bed." It's silent for a moment, and then he can hear Yuuji moving, most likely rolling over to reach down. He hears the drawer slide open, and the teen gasps. "Ah, sorry, there's a few other things in there - "

"Sensei, do you use - " the teen speaks over him, voice quiet as he likely is trying to process what he's looking at. "No way you use something that big."

Satoru laughs, fond at Yuuji's naivety. "That's the 'I'm bored' toy. Don't mind that, though, that's not why I told you to open it."

"This is for when you're bored?!" Yuuji squeaks out, but Satoru continues.

"The jar, Yuuji. Use it," he instructs calmly, because now isn't the time to discuss Satoru's alone activities. It's time to put Yuuji's to good use. He can hear the drawer close again, the teen still grumbling to himself unintelligibly.

"Sensei," Yuuji begins cautiously, "are you sure? I mean, I'm in your bed, I can go to - "

"Don't."

Yuuji pauses. "But, your sheets - "

"Ruin them," Satoru states lowly, tone thick with arousal. He grips his cock through his pants, eyes closing as he imagines Yuuji writhing on his sheets, lube and cum staining them, and fuck, Yuuji needs to stay right where he is.

"Oh," Yuuji breathes out, stunned by Satoru's subtle outburst. "Okay. Yeah, I'll - okay." He hears more shifting around, more rustling, and he's pretty sure Yuuji is taking off his crewneck. Satoru feels another surge of possessiveness, the thought unable to leave his head since he saw that picture, so he rushes to speak.

"Leave it on."

The rustling stops. "Okay." Yuuji doesn't question it this time, and Satoru is pleased by his easy compliance. 

"Good," he praises earnestly, the teen letting out a small sigh. "We can start slow. Right now, I just want you to touch yourself."

"Already on it, Sensei," Yuuji lightly jokes, but the words still send a thrill down Satoru's spine. They're really doing this. "Are you - are you doing it, too?"

Satoru strokes himself over his pants, cock beginning to fully harden now. "Of course. Is that alright with you?"

"Duh," Yuuji instantly says, and Satoru laughs. "It'd be weird if you weren't. I know this is for me or whatever, but. I wouldn't feel right about it if you weren't enjoying it." He smiles fondly. 

"Don't worry. I'm enjoying this."

"Can I ask a - a favor, I guess?" Yuuji asks hesitantly. Satoru pauses, having no idea what the teen will say. It's rare he truly asks for something he wants without being prompted.

"Yes. What is it?"

"A picture," Yuuji rushes the words out, sounding ashamed to even be saying it. "I want a picture of you, too."

Satoru's breath hitches, fingers curling tighter around his cock. "Be specific, or I'll send something crazy."

Yuuji chokes. "Your face. Just your face right now." Right now. Blood roars in his ears at even the possibility of Yuuji asking for more pictures of other parts of him. "Please?" The breathless plea tacked on at the end has him quickly switching back to speaker mode and opening his camera.

He's surprised by the sight of himself. He has his blindfold on still, but from what he can see, he's already looking undone. He remembers how Yuuji described how he looked in the heat of the moment, and he's realizing it was accurate. His cheeks are already pink, spreading across his nose, and his hair is messy atop the fabric over his eyes. Satoru grins, getting up from the bed quickly to grab something from his bag.

Opening the small tube of lipgloss, he reapplies it, keeping it light and simple. Yuuji seemed to fixate on the fact his lips were a distraction. He lays back down with a pleased sigh, and hooks his thumb under one side of his blindfold, lifting it enough for one of his eyes to peek out. Satoru smiles and takes the picture, tapping on their text messages to send the photo.

"Should be getting it now," Satoru speaks up, pressing the phone back to his ear. 

"That took a while, Sensei," Yuuji replies, breathing somewhat heavily. He must still be touching himself, and Satoru is excited to hear what he thinks when he opens it. He doesn't have to wait long. The teen's breathing stutters loudly, a small moan tumbling out of him.

"Fuck, Sensei," Yuuji breathes out, awe clear in his voice, and Satoru preens under the attention.

"Worth the wait, yeah?"

"Yes," the teen hisses, and Satoru's own breathing stutters now. "You're so hot, and you know it. It drives me crazy."

"Oh?" Satoru drags out curiously. "So you do think of me fondly. I'm flattered, really." His tone is playful, and he would like to think he's totally pulling it off, but his heart is racing and his breathing is picking up to match the teen's. 

"How could I not think about you in that way?" Yuuji huffs. "Everything about you - Sensei, please, my brain is not working already - "

"I just love hearing you talk about me," Satoru jumps in, "but I can give your brain a break, I suppose. How about you put that lube to good use?" Yuuji curses under his breath, and Satoru finally slips his hand under his sweatpants, his cock heavy and hot. He gives it a slow stroke, a sigh escaping him.

"Do I just - what do I - "

"Start with one finger, Yuuji," Satoru easily begins to guide him, knowing from before that the teen likes to be told what to do. Plus, he sounds like he needs it. "You've done it before, so no reason to be nervous. You have lube now, too, so it'll be much easier." The teen hums in agreeance. 

"It's cold," Yuuji hisses while Satoru strokes himself slow and steady. Yuuji is about to finger himself while they're on the phone together. Satoru can't believe he got them to this point. "Oh. That was a lot easier."

Satoru chuckles, "See? Relax. Keep working that finger in. Get yourself used to it."

He hears Yuuji's breathing halt for a moment before it's stuttering out of him, and Satoru's ears burn. His cock twitches in his grip, getting impatient with the slow pace, but he's determined to match Yuuji through this. 

"I wanna add another," Yuuji says, words on the edge of being a question.

"You don't have to ask. Go ahead, add another." The teen whines, and Satoru knows he's added a second, and arousal is burning him from the inside out. He wishes he were there. "I love the pretty sounds you make, Yuuji," he purrs, the teen whining again at his words. "Tell me how it feels."

"Weird, but good," Yuuji admits honestly, "I think it's you making it good, though."

"Do you like being full, Yuuji?" Satoru asks mindlessly, his hand speeding up. The teen moans. "Scissor your fingers, baby, stretch yourself out some more. I want you to get to three." 

"Sensei," Yuuji moans, his breathing quick and noisy through the phone speaker. It goes straight to Satoru's cock, a burst of precum spilling from the head. He rubs his thumb through it, hips bucking into the touch, and smears it down his length. "Feels good, it's - it feels good."

"Perfect, Yuuji," he groans, stars bursting in his vision when he twists on the upstroke around the head of his cock. "I want to see your face. Would it be too difficult to send a picture?" 

Yuuji doesn't answer, but Satoru takes the silence as a yes. He pulls his phone away and puts it on speaker, opening their messages again to eagerly wait for the photo to come through. He doesn't bother to hide how loud his own breathing is, there's no reason to pretend he isn't getting off from this. Based on their first interaction, Yuuji really likes it when Satoru lets loose a little.

The picture fills his screen, and Satoru groans loudly enough to shock himself a bit. He squeezes his cock, blood scorching through his veins like lava, because fuck.

Satoru can't see what Yuuji is doing, but he has it angled to see more of him than last time, the crewneck bunched up but covering just enough that his cock is painfully out of view. One of the teen's arms is stretched down along his body, and he knows where it goes, knows where his fingers are, and Satoru wishes he could see.

The star of the photo, however, is Yuuji's face. His beautiful face. He's openly panting at the camera, his bottom lip clearly bit to oblivion with how red and swollen it is, and the flush on his cheeks has spread down to his neck. His golden eyes are half-lidded, gazing right into the camera, right at Satoru, looking as if he's about to cry, and Satoru wants to laugh at himself. He thought the first picture was a treat.

It is. This one is a fucking treasure.

"Fuck, Yuuji, look at you," Satoru groans. "All for me."

"All for you, Sensei," Yuuji instantly replies, and Satoru almost falls apart at the teen agreeing so quickly. Then, Yuuji moans, the loudness echoing through his hotel room. "Three - three fingers, it's so much - "

"Three already?" Satoru breathlessly asks, awed by the teen. "So good, Yuuji. Keep it up, baby."

He's on fire, heart pounding in his ears, but he sticks with the slower pace, staring at the picture with wide eyes. This is what Yuuji looks like stretching himself open, all the while he's making those noises, and Satoru finds it astonishing that he would still sound and look even prettier in person. Yuuji is letting out little whines and whimpers, focusing solely on getting accustomed to the three fingers inside of himself. So, Satoru does what he's good at - he talks.

"I wonder how many you can fit, Yuuji," he says, speaking with the haze of lust that clouds his better judgment. "How full can we get you, hm? You've got to be tight. I'm not sure my fingers would fit," Yuuji moans, a trembling broken sound. "You would like to try though, right? You want to take my fingers next?"

"Yes, yes, please," the teen cries, Satoru's pace quickening on his cock again. "They're so big, and thick, Sensei - " Yuuji sounds drunk now, words starting to slur, and Satoru has to close his eyes, has to remind himself to breathe, the rush of pride and lust at getting Yuuji like this so overwhelming.

"You must think about my fingers a lot," he grits out, hardly able to put sentences together now, cock aching with the need to cum. "Shit, hearing you fuck yourself open is so hot, Yuuji." The teasing act is beginning to crumble away, the only words he's able to think and say coming out as honest, raw desire.

"And they're so long," Yuuji continues as if Satoru never said anything. "You'd get so much deeper, Sensei."

"Fuck," Satoru curses, thrusting into his fist harshly. "I'd make you cry, Yuuji."

The teen does let out a cry, hiccuping through his breathing, and Satoru wants to see, he wants to see so badly that he can barely contain himself. He's thrusting into his own fist consistently now, eyes peeking open to gaze at the photo again.

"I'd get so deep, hit that beautiful spot inside of you, watch you fall apart on just my fingers," Satoru rambles, inner thoughts leaking out of him.

"I've never - I don't know where it is, but I - "

"Curl your fingers, baby," Satoru says, slipping back into the guiding role, "curl them up, c'mon, wanna hear you when you hit it - "

Yuuji gasps, a sob ripping out of him, and oh, Satoru's head fucking spins. He can't breathe, squeezing his cock like his life depends on not cumming, and falls right into praising the boy.

"Beautiful, so fucking good, Yuuji. I knew you could do it."

"Sensei, fuck, I - I need you," Yuuji sobs out, tone the most desperate Satoru has ever heard it, a moan tearing out of his own chest. "I need you. I wish it was you. I wish it was your fingers, your cock, anything, I don't care," he ends it with a high, keening noise, and Satoru feels like he's been shot. He releases his cock to grip the sheets, hard enough that his fingers rip through them. Satoru brings the phone back to his ear as he thrusts his hips uselessly into the air, words tumbling out of his mouth. 

"I'd let you take whatever you want from me. Anything. How about my tongue, baby? Would you ride my face?" His deepest desires flow out, voice soft and airy like these aren't some of the dirtiest sentences he's ever said. He talks during sex, sure, but it's usually such basic stuff. 

Satoru has never wanted someone as strongly and deeply as he wants Yuuji. He feels insane. He feels high.

"God, yes," Yuuji's voice breaks, "I wanna feel you, I wanna see you. I want you here."

"Yeah?" Satoru exhales the question, sitting up in bed dizzily. 

"Yes, Sensei, I want you here, now, please - " Yuuji hardly finishes begging before Satoru clasps his hands together.

He stands in his bedroom, phone dropping to the floor as he stalks towards the bed. The teen gasps wetly, wide teary eyes staring at him in utter shock. Satoru's eyes rake over the boy, unable to see anything from where he's standing. His legs are bent, blocking his view from where Yuuji's arm is reaching down to, so he moves closer to the foot of the bed.

"Sensei, you - " Yuuji whispers, his own phone still gripped in his hand as his knees close together, abruptly sitting up.

"Yuuji," he says lowly, voice rough like a man parched. "Forgive me."

Satoru climbs on the bed gently, and pulls Yuuji's legs apart slowly, air knocked out of him when they easily open up for him. He thought he felt high before. He can just barely hear the teen, his mind, body, and soul entirely focused on the sight before him.

Satoru's crewneck is still covering his cock, but Yuuji is three fingers deep in himself, and Satoru is hanging on by a fucking snagged thread.

Satoru slides his hands up Yuuji's warm thighs to his waist, pushing his crewneck up along the way and dislodging Yuuji's fingers. He can't look away, his eyes trained on that wet, stretched-out hole. The boy moves with him, arching off the bed to allow Satoru to bunch the fabric up around his chest, wanting an unobstructed view now. 

He's seen Yuuji naked before. But it was under horrific circumstances. He places a hand in the center of his chest, fingers splayed out as the memory flashes through his mind. Yuuji places a hand over his, and Satoru finally locks eyes with him. 

He's a wreck. He's beautiful. Satoru wants to break him. He wants to put him back together and keep him where no one can find him again.

"Can I?" Satoru belatedly asks, sure that Yuuji has been saying something this whole time but unable to process any of it. His cock is throbbing painfully, but he could care less at the moment. 

"Sensei, please, anything - "

He stares at Yuuji, and he slides two of his fingers inside of him at once, and the boy crumbles.

"Oh, fuck, fuck, Sensei - " His back arches, hands grasping at the silk-covered pillow under his head as his eyes roll back. Satoru savors how tight he is, how hot and wet he feels, before curling his fingers up. Yuuji shouts, fingers clawing at the arm holding him down by the hand on his chest. Satoru's head is silent, but feral desire starts crawling out of his throat in the form of words.

"So fucking tight, I knew you would be. Am I deep enough, Yuuji? Is this what you wanted, what you needed?" As he asks, he moves his fingers more viciously, hitting that bundle of nerves repeatedly as the teen jolts and cries under him. Satoru's dick pulses, everything about Yuuji tearing down his self-control.

He removes his hand from Yuuji's chest to hold his pretty cock, admiring how red and swollen it is. Yuuji has to be close, and it probably won't take much more. Satoru leans down to lick up the length of it, the salty taste making his head go fuzzy. It's been so long since he's tasted someone's cock, and the fact that it's Yuuji's has him melting into it hungrily. It's shorter than his by an inch or two, but it's certainly thick, enough that Satoru knows he would struggle to take it down his throat without choking.

Yuuji is sobbing, Satoru's mouth wrapping around the head of his cock as his fingers work in and out of him roughly but with precision. 

"I'm - I'm gonna cum, gonna cum, please, Sensei, please - " 

Satoru hums around his cock, releasing it and removing his fingers all at once.

"No!" Yuuji shouts, feet jerking in an affronted kick and wrapping his legs around him clumsily in a weak attempt to drag him back in. "Come back, please, no," his hands scramble for his shoulders, but Satoru ducks down, his body flattening to the bed to drag his tongue against Yuuji's swollen rim. The boy gasps, a moan ripping from his chest to echo through the room, and Satoru was right - he does sound prettier in person. 

He hooks his hands around Yuuji's legs and guides them to rest over his shoulders, fingers digging into the dense muscles. He licks a few more times, the medicinal taste of the lube not strong enough to take away the raw taste of Yuuji, before he dips his tongue in. Yuuji screams, strong thighs clamping around his head hard enough to hurt, but Satoru doesn't care. Yuuji's hole is sucking his tongue in greedily, and he pushes in as deep as he can, glossy lips pressing to his lube-slicked rim, and he hums in satisfaction.

The vibration causes the teen's hips to jerk, and when Satoru hums again, he holds Yuuji's waist and guides the next movement. Ride my face, he screams in his mind, hoping to get the message across. He's losing himself completely, and then Yuuji seems to get the hint, grinding into Satoru's tongue roughly and fingers tangling in his hair to keep him there.

I don't plan to go anywhere for the rest of my life, Satoru thinks.

Yuuji rotates his hips harshly, loud humming-like moans pouring out of him endlessly as he takes, and takes, and takes. Satoru is drunk, high, addicted to Yuuji, certain that nothing could compare to this boy. The way he sounds, the way he looks, the way he tastes - everything has Satoru out of his mind.

The thighs around his head squeeze, the pressure of it and the lack of air causing him to become dizzy, and Satoru has never been more turned on in his entire life. He grinds against the bed with small thrusts, just enough to take the edge off, and hums into Yuuji again, fingers holding the boy's waist tight. His tongue and Yuuji's hips move in tandem, rhythms matching in sinful rolls as spit drips down Satoru's chin.

"Oh my fucking god," Yuuji grits out, hips somehow moving faster and thighs clamping harder. Satoru can't breathe, and his jaw and tongue ache, and he's in absolute bliss. "Yes, yes, yes - I'm gonna cum - Sensei, Sensei - "

His cries increase in pitch, and Satoru curls his tongue up to just barely graze his prostate, moans brokenly, and sucks.

Yuuji bursts to life.

His thighs tremble, his entire body arching up off the bed as he wails, ripping at Satoru's hair so roughly he's certain there will be white strands tangled on his fingers when he lets go. He keeps himself in place, hands holding the boy's thighs as his body jerks wildly, out of control, hole convulsing around his tongue and heels digging into his back. When he's a limp, shaking mess on the bed, and his legs loosen their death grip, Satoru eases back, slowly removing his tongue. 

He gasps for breath, vision spotty when he opens his eyes, and rests his head against Yuuji's thigh to try and recover. When his ears stop ringing and he can see more clearly, he gets up onto his knees to gaze down at Yuuji, wiping off the lower half of his face with the hem of his shirt before removing it entirely.

Cum is painted up the teen's chest, even staining his crewneck, and the silk sheets under Yuuji's ass are soaked through with a mixture of lube and Satoru's spit. Yuuji's entire face and chest are bright red, sweat making his skin shine in the low lighting from the lamp on the nightstand, and he's crying.

Tears roll down his temples to soak into his hair, his shaking hands reaching for him blindly, and Satoru is quick to hold them with his own. The boy has definitely never had an orgasm this intense before. 

"Yuuji, baby," he gently calls out, his voice gravelly. Satoru leans down over him between his quivering legs, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "You were wonderful. Such a good boy for me." Yuuji sobs into his ear, arms curling around his neck to hold onto him. Satoru lets him, kissing his cheek again as he slides an arm under his back, his other arm holding himself up to not crush the boy.

His head is still spinning, and his cock feels like it's about to explode if he doesn't cum soon, but he's able to recognize that this part is important. This is a lot for Yuuji, and he didn't properly care for him the first time around. He can do it better this time. He whispers soothing things, lips pressed against his temple as the teen works through the aftershocks and intense emotions that come with an orgasm like this.

He came without a hand on his cock, purely from Satoru's tongue, and while that causes his own cock to throb and his ego to swell, he's also in awe of the entire display. Yuuji was so selfish through it, and he took everything so beautifully just like he thought the boy would. Yuuji really is something special. 

Once the shaking has mostly stopped, and his breathing has calmed down, Yuuji loosens his grip.

"Are you okay?" Satoru softly checks in. Yuuji nods, and when he pulls back to look down at him, the boy is dazed.

"I'm okay," he verbally confirms, voice quiet but raw from use. Unfocused eyes turn to him, blinking a few times. "Wow."

Satoru chuckles, fondness washing over him. He kisses his cheek again, breathing in deeply through his nose. His head is pounding, and his scalp burns, and his jaw will probably be aching until tomorrow, but Satoru wouldn't have it any other way.

"What about you?" Yuuji mumbles, hands holding the back of his head and the nape of his neck tenderly. 

"Me, me, me," Satoru drawls into the boy's warm skin. "You're always so concerned about me. You don't need to return the favor every time, you know. This is for - "

"Me, yeah, I know," Yuuji finishes for him, pushing Satoru's face back to properly look at him. He stares at Satoru, eyes alight with something like determination. "You always say that. But we've been over this - I want to do stuff to you."

Satoru pets the hand that was on his back down the boy's waist, a disbelieving laugh huffing out of him. "What would you even want to do?" Satoru asks skeptically, knowing there's no way Yuuji is moving much for the rest of the evening.

"Taste you," the boy responds without hesitation. "I really want to taste you. Like you did to me." He must still be riding the high of his orgasm because Yuuji doesn't even look embarrassed about what he's asking for. Satoru gapes down at him, images flashing through his mind as his hips stutter forward at the request, his hand gripping Yuuji's waist.

"You - fuck, Yuuji," Satoru hangs his head, exhaling harshly. 

"Please? I've always wanted to try giving a blowjob," Yuuji's tone is sweet, despite the words being anything but. Satoru groans, a mix of arousal and defeat. There's no way he could turn this down. Especially if the boy is thinking of this as experiencing things. That is the point, even if it isn't entirely Satoru's reasoning.

"Maybe - maybe just a little bit. Nothing crazy," Satoru gives in.

"Crazy? You mean like teleporting here and doing what you just did to me?"

Satoru's head whips up, staring at the boy in shock. "Yuuji - "

"Take what you want now," the teen cuts him off, holding his face between warm, shaking hands. "C'mon, it's what I'm asking for. This is for me, right?" He's got that same glint in his eyes as before, the one that's not quite daring, not quite challenging, but screaming at him to do it. Satoru is starting to think it's the look Yuuji gets when he simply wants Satoru to break. 

Like Yuuji wants him to ruin him for Satoru's own pleasure. Isn't that a revelation, Satoru thinks.

"Do you like doing this to me?" Satoru softly asks the question as he sits up. "Do you like watching me go crazy over you, Yuuji?" He smoothly straddles Yuuji's waist, and hungrily watches the way the boy's eyes catch on his hard cock straining against his sweatpants. "Does that get you off? To see your Sensei lose his mind over his student?" Yuuji's attention flickers back and forth between his cock and his half-hidden face. 

"I - fuck, please," Yuuji whispers, fingers curling behind his thighs to tug at him, tongue peeking out to lick at his lips. 

"Answer me, Yuuji," he says, lifting the blindfold up to expose an eye, peering down at the boy. Yuuji freezes, focused on Satoru's one eye, and he nods.

"Yes," he whispers, the answer sending a shiver through his body, cock visibly jerking. Yuuji notices it, and that same look returns to his face, hands pulling at his thighs again. "Yes. I like when you give in to me."

Satoru, despite already believing this to be the case, is still stunned to hear it. "My, my, Yuuji, that's awfully inappropriate," he reaches down and palms his cock, satisfaction curling through his chest when the boy whines, eyes glued to the motion. "I never would have guessed you had a thing for Sensei's."

"You're also the strongest sorcerer," Yuuji mumbles, awed and unashamed at the way he's staring. "So having you get like this, it's - " the teen pauses to swallow, "I feel powerful."

Satoru's heart threatens to beat right out of his chest at the loaded admission, cheeks heating up and entire body freezing. To think that Yuuji has a sense of power over him, and he has picked up on that so quickly, is sort of humiliating for him. That being said, he doesn't mind it, not one bit. The teen isn't wrong, after all. Gathering his pride a little, and ready to gain back the upper hand of the situation, he hooks his thumbs into his waistband.

"My precious student, feeling powerful over me," Satoru breathes, watching the boy's eyelashes flutter as he begins to tug his sweatpants down. "As the strongest, I should be ashamed, right? Giving in to everything you ask for," he gives a final tug, cock finally free from its confines, the cool air against his heated skin sending a shiver through him. "It's dangerous, you know."

Yuuji's chest is heaving, eyes wide and cheeks flushing a deep red again. His mouth hangs open around his panting breaths, and Satoru's sense of pride is definitely back now. He gives himself a stroke, hissing in pleasure at finally getting some proper relief again. Yuuji gives a trembling, soft moan, fingers trailing up to his exposed hips.

"Sensei," he sighs, "let me taste."

Satoru scoots closer on his knees, bracketing the boy's chest now with his knees almost in his armpits. He shudders, his cock hovering this close to Yuuji's face a delightful view that he's only seen in his more shameful fantasies. He can see Yuuji's eagerness, can see how badly the teen actually wants to do this, and he isn't sure what he should be feeling about that.

"Have you imagined this before?" Satoru finds himself asking indulgently. The boy could be lying while in the heat of the moment about imagining Satoru before, but based on how open and honest Yuuji has been these last few minutes, he thinks maybe he might believe him this time.

"Yeah," comes Yuuji's breathless reply, gaze never leaving the thick cock centimeters from his face. "I knew you'd be big. I've always wondered how much I could take." The raw honesty is like a punch to the gut, Satoru's cock jumping in his hand, but Yuuji isn't done yet. 

"You said some things that night, too, Sensei. Do you remember? About how you wanted me to take your cock in my mouth?" Satoru curses under his breath, ears burning and breathing heavily himself now. Yuuji looks up through his lashes to meet his singular eye that's still exposed. 

"And I'm the inappropriate one," Yuuji mumbles sarcastically. "Who knew Sensei had a thing for students?"

This knocks the air out of his lungs, his eyes widening. It isn't true, not entirely, though he supposes Yuuji doesn't like all teachers, either. At least, he selfishly hopes not. Possessiveness flares through him again, his hands reaching down to cup Yuuji's cheeks, thumbs stroking under his eyes. The skin is damp from his earlier tears. 

"Not all students, Yuuji," he whispers, his voice too soft, his tone too honest, and a part of his brain screams at him to not be this vulnerable, to make a joke out of it. Yuuji gazes up at him, fingers curling around his wrists, and Satoru sees too much of the kindness that is Yuuji to attempt to tear him down while he's feeling so high. So instead, he grabs his cock again, and thumbs at Yuuji's trembling bottom lip. 

"Open," the boy does, tongue briefly touching Satoru's thumb, warm and wet. "Breathe through your nose. Keep your teeth out of it. If it's too much, tap or hit my leg. Understand?" Satoru sums up what to do simply enough for Yuuji to comprehend, but with his glazed-over look and attention lost to his cock so close, he's worried he wasn't listening at all.

But the teen nods in response as soon as he finishes speaking. Nothing crazy, Satoru reminds himself as he guides his cock forward to rest against Yuuji's lower lip, precum smearing on it. Satoru exhales shakily when the boy's tongue licks at the head tentatively, golden eyes fluttering closed at the taste. Yuuji's fingers flex on his hips to pull him closer, so he obliges. 

Satoru gently slides his cock in, and those lips close around the head with a soft moan. He gently pets Yuuji's hair away from his forehead with his free hand, pink strands soft between his fingers. His mouth is so hot, and he's fighting every instinct in his body to not push in as far as he can and take. Yuuji's eyes flutter open, gazing at him so gratefully that Satoru almost gives in. Almost.

He does sink in a little more, reveling in the feel of Yuuji's tongue gliding along the underside of his cock. He's not halfway yet, probably only three inches in with five more to go, but Yuuji hasn't even flinched, breathing steadily through his nose and looking more pleased than anything. He pulls back, the drag of that tongue so delicious, and pushes back in again, sinking in an inch deeper. Yuuji still doesn't flinch - he simply closes his eyes again and hums around his cock happily.

"Fuck," Satoru curses, the vibrations good enough that he quickly thrusts in more without meaning to, head hitting the back of the boy's tight throat, but Yuuji's only reaction is his eyebrows furrowing and a sharper inhale through his nose. Chest heaving and thoroughly intrigued, he pushes in more until only two inches of his cock is left, and eases into Yuuji's throat. The boy gives a choked moan around him, fingers grasping at his hips again but not tapping or hitting. He's trying to pull him in deeper. 

Yuujis eyes open again, heated and hungry but unsatisfied. Satoru slides his cock back out, and Yuuji pants against the head, lips already beginning to swell from the stretch. Satoru stares down at him, trying to process what he just witnessed. He just took six inches of a big cock like this isn't his first time, Satoru thinks with bewilderment.

"Sensei, you look surprised," Yuuji pants out, "I thought you wanted to do this because I have no gag reflex?" He doesn't ask it teasingly, but as a genuinely confused question, and Satoru's brain short-circuits.

Ah, Satoru thinks, that's right. How could he forget?

"Fuck," he curses again, holding his hair tighter and thrusting the entirety of his cock into that warm mouth and down inside his throat in one move. Yuuji's eyes widen for a moment, but they quickly squeeze shut, the intrusion on his throat catching him off guard, his air blocked before he could take a deeper breath. Satoru moans, never meeting anyone who could take all of him like this because he's so big. 

Satoru pulls back, letting the boy's throat open up to get some air in through his nose since he surprised him before. He starts gently and slowly thrusting, gazing down at Yuuji in unabashed amazement that he's doing this so easily. Having something so warm and wet and tight around his cock has his skin crawling and muscles twitching with need. Yuuji's tongue is laving underneath nicely and his lips are wrapped tightly enough, but there's one thing he needs to do.

"Suck," he instructs, and Yuuji listens, cheeks hollowing and mouth constricting around him and Satoru groans, fingers gripping his hair tightly. "Fuck, so perfect, Yuuji." The boy moans at the praise, and all of the sensations - the suction, the warmth, the wetness, the vibrations - send Satoru spiraling.

"You're made for sucking cock, aren't you? You take it so well for me, Yuuji," he thrusts his cock in as deep as he can again, the boy continuing to suck obediently. Satoru sets a pace now, hips moving rhythmically to fuck into his willing mouth, into his open throat, and the boy just continues to moan around his mouthful as tears stream down his temples again. He doesn't tap or hit him, so Satoru doesn't stop.

His lips are stretched obscenely and spit starts to leak from the corners. Satoru loosens his grip on his hair and lifts his other hand to thumb at the corner of his mouth, smearing the spit and feeling his cock go in and out so smoothly. Yuuji's eyes blink open, gazing up at him wetly, eyelashes clumped together, and Satoru's hips stutter in their rhythm.

"So beautiful," he mutters down at him, an emotion unfurling in his chest and making it harder to breathe due to the thickness of it. He thrusts harder and deeper in response to it, not sure what to make of it. "The things you do to me, Yuuji."

Yuuji's cheeks somehow flush darker at his words, tongue curling as best it can around his cock as it thrusts in and out, repeatedly sinking into his throat, and it's so fucking hot and tight that Satoru doesn't think he'll ever be able to use just a hand to get off ever again.

"Getting me to fuck your throat like this, like you aren't one of the most precious things in this shitty world," a choked sob tears out of the boy, hands pulling at his waist and forcing Satoru to fall forward to catch himself with one hand braced next to his head. The movement changes the angle so that he's more above him, and he presses in deeper, deeper, until Yuuji's nose is pressed into his stomach. Yuuji's hands claw at his back desperately, but hold him there, like this is what he wants, what he's been craving.

"Fuck, Yuuji, but you're so dangerous," Satoru grits out, easing back out completely, the boy gasping for air before a cracking moan rips through the room, greedy hands trying to get him back in. 

"Again," Yuuji croaks out, and Satoru has a brief flashback of Yuuji demanding that same thing, except it was over a kiss. Satoru had been hesitant, hadn't wanted to cross any lines, but he didn't know what was waiting on the other side before, not really. There's no turning back now. He's never giving this boy up.

And just like the first time, he doesn't have to plead.

Satoru fucks into his throat again, and Yuuji's hands roam his thighs, his waist, his chest, his biceps and forearms - everywhere and anywhere they can. Satoru eyes slip closed, taking in every sensation he can, losing himself in it as Yuuji's muffled and choked sounds fill the room. Satoru's hips jolt in surprise when hands grab onto his ass, losing his rhythm for a moment. 

Yuuji's fingers knead appreciatively, and he grips the pillow next to Yuuji's head and twists his hair roughly. It feels good, everything feels so fucking good that he's barely able to process that it's happening. He's fucking Yuuji's face, his Six Eyes staring down at the boy as arousal surges through him like a wildfire, uncontrollable and all-consuming.

"Yuuji, I'm gonna cum," he groans out in warning, attempting to slow his thrusts enough to pull out, but Yuuji just raises his head off the bed a little and holds his ass tighter, not wanting him to stop. "Yuuji - " the boy gives a garbled cry, golden eyes opening to plead with him, and the arm that's keeping Satoru up trembles, gut twisting because Yuuji wants him to cum like this.

"Gonna take it all, baby? Are you gonna be good and swallow it?" Satoru blurts out, thrusts picking up speed again at Yuuji's insistence. "You really do get whatever you want from me, don't you? Fuck, you can have anything you want. I'd fuck this throat every day if you asked me to." His cock throbs inside of Yuuji's throat, and he's so close, tension building as his thrusts get shallower and messier, and he's right there, he's -

One of Yuuji's fingers curiously dips down and strokes against his hole, pressing against it bluntly, and Satoru's gone.

He gasps, a wrecked moan carving out of him from what feels like his soul as he cums, hips grinding down against Yuuji's face and cock pulsing into that tight heat of Yuuji's throat. The hand that was in Yuuji's hair grips the back of his head now to hold him there firmly, the boy's nose digging into him as he grinds in deep, before easing back and giving a few shallow thrusts. He slides his cock out to let it pulse and spurt the last drops of cum, his thighs trembling as the muscles ache to relax. 

Satoru tries to breathe, his hands and feet tingling and his head still pounding from Yuuji squeezing it earlier. He blinks his eyes open, realizing Yuuji is incredibly quiet, and he forgets how to breathe all over again.

He looks just in time to witness the boy's throat work through a swallow, and then he's gasping, chest rising and falling as he attempts to take deep breaths now that he can. Satoru's eyes get stuck on his mouth, on his swollen lips covered in spit and cum, and he wishes he hadn't left his phone somewhere on the floor. A picture of Yuuji in Satoru's sweater, stained by his own cum, and Satoru's cum painted across his fucked-out mouth would satisfy him for the rest of his life.

And yet, something primal in him rears its head, claws digging into his conscience to tell him he isn't done yet.

He scoots down and lifts his hand from the pillow to swipe his fingers through the mess and scoop up the cum left behind, pushing them into Yuuji's abused mouth. The boy whines around his fingers, tongue curling around them to lick and suck it off, and Satoru removes them to press his palm over Yuuji's mouth. His eyes snap open to meet Satoru's, breathing loudly through his nose and gripping his arm with both hands.

"All of it, baby," he simply says, watching him, waiting to give him his praise when Yuuji does what he was told. Yuuji moans, eyes rolling back as he swallows, and he smiles down at him, removing his hand. "Good boy."

"Sensei," Yuuji's voice cracks, raw and used and Satoru's never felt more proud in his life. "Nothing crazy, huh?" The immediate sarcasm tethers Satoru back down to reality again. He swings his leg over Yuuji's chest and collapses onto the bed next to him, panting around a laugh.

"Are you blaming me for that?" Satoru whines playfully in response. "You begged for it. It's hardly my fault. You wouldn't let me stop."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm just saying - " Yuuji coughs, and Satoru's stomach turns at the sound.

"Shit, Yuuji, it was still your first time. I shouldn't have been that rough - " Satoru sits up, trying to apologize, but Yuuji shakes his head and presses a hand to Satoru's chest to stop him.

"I liked it," he whispers once he catches his breath. "I really, really liked it."

Satoru blinks down at him, the both of them still mostly naked in his bed, and he feels something antsy swarm through his veins. He fidgets, scanning over the boy's flushed cheeks and satisfied smile, his gut swooping at the warmth in his golden eyes, and decides he needs to do something.

He climbs off the bed and tugs his sweats back on properly, fumbling his way to his bathroom. Yuuji makes a noise of surprise behind him, but he continues moving, pulling back his shower curtain and turning on the warm water to begin filling up the tub.

"Sensei?" Yuuji calls out as Satoru enters the room again. 

"You're taking a bath," he states, already waltzing towards his side of the bed. "You'll regret it if you don't."

Yuuji tries to sit up, but cringes, eyes locking down between his legs. "Oh. I see." Satoru laughs, knowing the sticky and slightly uncomfortable soreness all too well. He helps the teen sit up, his body tense and rigid with discomfort and removes the crewneck for him gently. Yuuji doesn't comment on the way he neatly folds it and sets it back down on the bed.

"Ready, set- " He sings out suddenly, the boy jolting as his arms swoop under his knees and around his back, "Up!" He exclaims, hoisting Yuuji up in his arms easily. He squeaks, arms circling around Satoru's neck as if the man's about to throw him.

"Sensei - " Yuuji yells, laughter bubbling out of him at the absurdity. The sound rings out pleasantly next to Satoru's ear, and not through a phone speaker this time. Warmth seeps through his body, unable to contain his wide smile as he walks towards the bathroom. "You don't have to carry me - "

"Nonsense, Yuuji-kun!" Satoru dismisses lightly, and he feels weirdly comfortable about the fact he's carrying his naked student out of his bed and into his bathtub. Why does it feel so normal? Why does it feel so easy?

He lowers the boy down to his feet, legs wobbling despite his earlier protest, and helps him step into the half-filled tub. Yuuji sighs at the warmth around his ankles and lets Satoru help ease him down properly with soft words of thanks. He kneels next to the tub as Yuuji whines and sinks lower into the water as it continues to noisily fill up.

"I'll change the sheets. You relax."

He says it, but hesitates to leave, eyes stuck on Yuuji's blushing, content face. His eyes are closed, so he can't see Satoru, but he's certain his own face is stuck in an all too revealing emotion. He brushes Yuuji's hair back gently, tenderly, before hastily rising up from the floor to leave before anything else can be said between them.

Once he's back in his room, he picks up his stained crewneck and tucks it away for now. He gathers up his sheets and pillowcase, tugs off his sweatpants and t-shirt, and then heads for his laundry area. Throwing it all in, he goes to a closet to gather spare sheets, before stepping into the guest bathroom to quickly rinse himself off, too. 

When he comes back, the water is turned off, and a calm silence settles over the house. Satoru begins redressing the bed, and when that's finished he goes to his closet to pull out clothes. He grabs two large black shirts for himself and Yuuji, sweatpants for himself, and the smallest-looking pair he has for Yuuji. He doesn't bother with underwear.

He gets dressed and sits on the edge of his bed. Now that it's quiet, and he's alone, and he has nothing to keep himself busy with, he starts to think.

He really shouldn't have been that rough with Yuuji. The teen says he liked it, but he ought to be more careful with how he treats him. Satoru is used to experienced partners, people who don't even know who he is - the complete opposite of Yuuji. Not to mention, he doesn't care about those people. He cares about Yuuji.

He cares a lot about Yuuji.

Satoru recognizes that maybe Yuuji also cares a lot about him, in the same sort of way he does, if his admissions to actually thinking about Satoru to get off in his alone time is anything to go by. Yuuji's so open about his admiration for him as a person, he always has been, but adding the sexual admiration to it certainly makes it seem that there's more there than just experimenting with someone who has experience.

What, exactly, is Satoru supposed to do with that, though?

He already knows that entering any sort of relationship with his student is a bad idea. A horrible one, really. It wouldn't end well no matter how you try to look at things, and it wouldn't go over well with other people. Would they be surprised that Gojo Satoru, who is notoriously flamboyant and morally gray and too close to his students, has ended up with a student? Probably not. 

But to bring about that scrutiny on Yuuji, the boy who is already suffering just for being a vessel to the King of Curses, not by choice, is not something Satoru's sure he wants to do. He also doesn't believe Yuuji would truly be happy. 

Satoru isn't a good person. Yuuji is a good person. Those sorts of things are always doomed to fail. How could it possibly go when one of them has a timer that the other is meant to stop?

The sound of the water suddenly draining drags Satoru out of his thoughts, head snapping towards the open bathroom doorway. He gets up with a sigh, chest heavy with an unhappy feeling all over again. He places the clothes in the doorway and wanders back to the bed, already aware he has to leave again.

He left behind all of his things in his rash decision to come here, and he needs to be picked up in the morning and taken to meet with the old geezers to discuss dumb shit he doesn't care to hear. Satoru doesn't want to leave, but it's the way things seem to go. 

Yuuji must find the clothes, because he's stumbling into the room, tongue peeking out and eyebrows furrowed as he tries to walk with such long pant legs. Satoru snorts at him, aiming for nonchalant casualness as he busies himself with picking up their cell phones from their respective places on the floor.

"Don't laugh at me, Sensei. You're the one who's freakishly tall," Yuuji grumbles before collapsing on the bed face-first with an exhausted huff. Satoru doesn't reply to that. "Tired," Yuuji says into the fresh sheets, voice muffled but sounding worn out. He places both phones on the nightstand before sitting down gently beside the boy.

"Go to sleep, then," Satoru pets the back of Yuuji's head, strands soaking wet. Did he even dry off, Satoru huffs inside his head. "I have to go back, you know." Yuuji freezes under him, for only a moment before relaxing again. Satoru notices anyway. Of course he notices. 

"I have a super lame meeting in the morning that I'm getting picked up for. Plus, I left everything in the hotel room, so," he trails off, that heaviness returning to his chest. Yuuji rolls over and stares up at him sadly. 

"Can't you still stay?" He pleads softly, hands wrapping around his extended arm from where he's laying, palms warm and damp. "Just for the night? And then leave in the morning?" Satoru inhales deeply through his nose, melting under his begging eyes and soft pleads and warm touch. Yuuji knows. He knows he'll stay. All he had to do was ask. 

"Don't complain if I end up waking you as I'm trying to leave." Yuuji's eyes light up, a wide, beaming smile spreading across his face, and Satoru is suffocating as the metaphorical line that he has long since crossed finally tightens around his neck as a noose. Attempting to ease the sensation, he removes his blindfold and rests it on the nightstand as Yuuji gets more comfortable.

Turning off the lamp, the both of them settle into bed, Satoru pulling the blanket up over their bodies. He lays on his side, facing the boy in the darkness, and Yuuji cuddles into his chest like it's the easiest thing in the world for him to do. Like it's normal. Like they've done this a thousand times.

Satoru's heart is racing in his chest, and Yuuji can probably hear it, but he's too distracted by the smell of his shampoo in Yuuji's hair to be too embarrassed about it. One of his arms is trapped under the boy, his head resting comfortably on his bicep, so he curls the other one around his back, holding him tentatively.

He hasn't even slept in the same bed as another person, much less cuddled with someone. He avoids it. He's a little too stiff, a little too unsure when it comes to this, and he's deathly still as if Yuuji's going to disappear any second.

Satoru lays there, afraid he'll wake up cold and alone in a stale, unfamiliar room, the way he usually does after his mind reminds him of warmer and livelier moments, love-filled memories that he can never go back to.

Satoru can't remember the last time he's been this close to another person.

He tries to keep his breathing even, emotions washing over him that he hasn't allowed himself to feel properly for a long, long time. Loneliness, the lack of touch, people generally finding him annoying at best - all of it being things Satoru has brought upon himself. 

The wall he puts up, both metaphorically and physically, along with flaunting his well-deserved ego in people's faces to remind them he's untouchable, to keep them from even trying to reach him, is something Satoru chose for himself. He did this on purpose, and now it's cracking, splintering out like a spider's web because of one person. The worst person it could have been, while also the best person it could have been. 

Because as he lays here, holding Itadori Yuuji, the boy cursed to be seen as nothing but a tool until his death, he relates to him. Satoru can understand him, can pity him, can care for him in a more meaningful way than anyone else can. He knows that Yuuji could provide the same for him, too, he's just been so hesitant to accept the way Yuuji tries to show it.

One of the boy's hands clutches at his shirt as the other wraps around his waist to hold him without hesitation, and with all the comfortability that Satoru's never felt before. Parts of the wall shatters, pieces of it crumbling away as he curls around Yuuji, arms holding on tighter. He swallows, burying his face in Yuuji's damp hair as the boy breathes in his arms, warm and alive, and so loving.

Satoru falls asleep easily and peacefully for the first time in a decade.

Chapter Text

Loud ringing slowly drags Satoru awake, along with insistent, petulant fists hitting his chest.

"Sensei," his title is whined out croakily into his neck, "turn it off."

Ah, that's right, he thinks to himself groggily. Yuuji is here.

He groans, not even bothering to open his eyes as he leans up onto one elbow and over the boy next to him, hand fumbling around the nightstand for his phone. When he finds it, he makes the ringing stop, and the room falls into a peaceful silence. Satoru flops down on his back with his phone in his hand, not at all awake. Yuuji curls back in against his side, cheek pressed to his bicep and hands clutching his shirt. His body is warm and movements lazy, and Satoru hums contently.

His phone rings again, the boy jumping with a slight shriek at the noise returning so abruptly. Satoru jolts as well and begrudgingly opens his eyes to glare at his phone. Incoming call. He heaves a sigh, irritated at being rudely awakened and having his peace disrupted.

"I need to start putting this thing on silent, huh?" He grumbles, recalling that it interrupted so rudely at a much worse time a few days ago. Yuuji groans, fists rubbing his eyes sleepily. Satoru answers it. "Hm?"

Ijichi's voice stammers out something about being at the hotel shortly, and that's really all Satoru needs to hear. "You could have texted me, you know. I'll be out when I feel like it. Bye-bye!" He sing-songs obnoxiously, ending the call and tossing the phone down the bed.

"You should be nicer to him, Sensei," Yuuji mumbles into his arm. Satoru glances down at him, the boy's eyes still closed and face sleepy. His fingers drift to brush along his cheek, drawn in more by the warmth of his skin. He holds him, thumb stroking just under his eye and dragging along the cursed slits that are carved there. His chest aches.

"I have to get going," Satoru says softly, trailing up to card his fingers through soft pink hair. It's sticking out in weird places, the boy making the poor decision to sleep on it while it was still wet. It's cute. It's human. Yuuji's eyes flutter open blearily, and then they focus to meet his, and Satoru thinks the world has stopped.

Yuuji is just so breathtaking to look at it.

He remembers the sunset last night. The colors and the warmth of it, the peace and longing that the sun leaving the sky brings. The last remaining bits of light dimming before being swallowed by darkness and loneliness. Satoru finds himself getting consumed by the thought of the sun going down and never coming back up again to shine down on the world with joy. 

The darkness would pool out across the sky like spilled ink, and it would never feel bright and warm again. It would just be a cold, empty, pointless world, like a book left unfinished but all the blank pages still there to flip through. Unsatisfying, unfair, unhappy, unloved. Lonely.

Satoru swallows around the lump in his throat when he remembers why sunsets remind him of Yuuji.

But now, lying here and looking at the boy, with the room painted in pale yellows and oranges, he thinks maybe he'd rather look at a sunrise and feel Yuuji for what he truly is.

The sun rises through the darkness, colors bursting with warmth because that's just what it's meant to do. The sky changes as it grows, shifts higher, shines stronger and brighter. It could make anyone forget there was ever a moment of darkness because it's so beautiful. It's calm, it's steady, it's a time to breathe and relax, and remember this is the start of a new day. Another chance to do better. Another chance to laugh, to smile, to touch, to live life to the fullest. Another chance to love.

Satoru blinks, and things flow together piece by piece until it's all connected with a loud click.

He stares at Itadori Yuuji, and his heart is racing, and it feels like something is growing inside of his ribcage and sprouting out of his throat, and he isn't breathing. Yuuji blinks back at him, and he looks concerned, and Satoru realizes a little late that he's panicking.

"Gojo-Sensei?" Yuuji whispers, warm, trembling hands cradling his face. When he does suck in a breath, it's sharp and loud, and then he's breathing too much, too fast.

Satoru remembers how bright it all used to be, warm and peaceful and full of longing. Lingering touches, sassy remarks, boisterous laughter. The connection that came so naturally, so easily. Satoru remembers the inky blackness that came with his technique, the way he had to consume curses, the way the sun began to set. 

Satoru remembers the sun fading out, the warmth draining out of the sky as darkness slowly dripped in bitterly, staining it with its coldness. Satoru remembers how the sun left the sky and never came back again. It sunk below the horizon, and he watched it from a distance. 

Satoru remembers the story ending, all the blank pages of what could have been, of what he didn't say. The emptiness screaming at him everything he didn't do right, and everything he did do wrong. Satoru remembers being the one to close the book, and leaving with the spilled, unused ink on his hands, the black, empty color staining him for the rest of his life. He's the one who left the book unfinished. 

Satoru remembers Suguru, and he's startled to notice the similarities. Horrified is a better word for it.

Yuuji is pulling his face into his chest, and Satoru lets him, overstimulated by the sound of wind rushing through his ears and his too-saturated vision. He smashes his face into the boy's body, eyes squeezing shut and arms wrapping around his frame to just hold on. Yuuji curls around him, holding his head close as Satoru heaves, trying desperately to regain control after such a revelation.

Another chance to love.

Satoru can't do this again. He can't watch another sun sink into darkness, and he can't close another book unfinished.

And yet, here Satoru is, preparing to watch Yuuji consume more and more evil, and preparing for the day he has to execute him for it.

Yuuji combs fingers through his hair, gently urging him to take deeper breaths, to relax, and Satoru is straining to hear him over the thundering of his own heartbeat. His gasps for air get longer,  get quieter, get calmer, as the images of Suguru and his own failures fade away and are replaced by Yuuji.

He can't do this. He can't. It will only end in heartache. It will end unfairly. It will be undeserving. 

Satoru breathes, and his face is wet, and his hearing is coming back to him. He breathes, and he loosens his grip, and his shoulders relax. He hears Yuuji's heartbeat now, and he feels the way it's pounding. He's alive. Yuuji is the most alive person he's ever met. He breathes, taking in the way he smells, squeezes him in his arms, and tangles their legs together. His nose and lips have a sort of tingle to them as oxygen floods his system properly again.

Gojo Satoru can't love Itadori Yuuji. 

And yet, here Satoru is. 

He's bathing in the warmth of the sun, not even realizing what he's doing or how long he's been here until it's already begun to burn him.

When his breathing is quiet, and he's gone limp, Yuuji calls out to him again.

"Gojo-Sensei? Are you okay?" His voice shakes, and when Satoru pulls back to look up at him, his face is distraught. It worsens at whatever face Satoru is currently making. All he knows is that there is still something growing out of him, spreading through every part of his body now with its aching fury, so he leans up and kisses Yuuji.

It's not a harsh kiss, but it's deep, and it's raw, and it's heavy with the weight Satoru is carrying. Yuuji melts into it, fingers carding through his hair and holding him where he is, close and steady. His lips are so soft, and Satoru holds the boy's face with care, tongue sinking in as liquid heat pools between their mouths. He sucks in a shuddering breath through his nose, Yuuji responding with a quiet noise and the slow glide of his tongue against Satoru's.

The sun rises, and it reminds him it's another chance to do better. Another chance to show how much he cares, to be present, to be loud with it. Another chance so that this time, if the book is left unfinished, it won't be a lonely, hollow end. Incomplete, but worth it in the end.

He eases out of the kiss, unhurried, and rests their foreheads together. His cheeks are drying out from the tears he must have shed, and there is a sharp, stabbing pain in his chest, but he's fine. It's fine. He will do better this time. Yuuji will live his life to the fullest that he can in this world, and Satoru will be with him through it all, in whatever way the boy allows him. He can do this.

He can do this for Yuuji.

A ping sounds from somewhere near the foot of the bed.

Yuuji huffs and Satoru rolls his eyes. It's quiet for a moment, but it's charged and uneasy.

"Are you okay?" Yuuji repeats his earlier question. Satoru pulls back again, and Yuuji isn't as distraught this time, though he's clearly still worried. Satoru gives him a soft smile.

"I'm okay, Yuuji," he reassures him. "Remembered the bad dream I had, that's all." With a flippant gesture, he sits up and reaches for his phone, skin going cold without Yuuji's warmth. A text lets him know his ride has arrived, and his stomach drops. He really doesn't want to go. Not at all.

"You have to get going," Yuuji says, and it's tinged with a sense of longing, but also acceptance. Satoru gazes back down at him, the morning light glowing on this beautiful thing wrapped up in his blanket, in his bed, in his clothes. 

"Yeah," he sighs out, disappointment laced heavily in the sound. "I'll bring us dinner. What do you want?"

The boy closes his eyes and hums as he thinks. "Ask me later. I'll know what I want then." He's staring at Satoru again, and he's openly searching for something. "Are you sure you're okay?" He questions skeptically. "I've never seen you - well," Yuuji lowers his gaze and fidgets with the blanket. Satoru's hand shakes around his phone. 

"I'm sorry to do that in front of you," he apologizes with a smile. "I sometimes think about things that hurt. I'm okay, though, so please don't worry." 

He keeps his voice soft, keeps his tone light, unwilling to divulge any details but wanting to be somewhat honest about it. He doesn't want this conversation to continue. Yuuji doesn't look convinced, but he does nod in understanding. "I know what you mean. But do you do that a lot?"

"No," he lies, "I don't cry often, much less have any kind of panic attack. You just happened to be here for a rare display. How lucky are you?" Satoru jokes, but his stomach turns at the sad smile Yuuji gives him. Before he can say anything else about it, he starts to get up, tossing the blanket aside and bare feet dropping to the cold floor. He stretches up, bones cracking as a yawn rips through him.

There's rustling behind him in the bed, and he peers over his shoulder to see Yuuji watching him intently, the blanket now pulled up to his chin and his eyes flickering over his form. He can't help but notice how low his eyes are looking. Now, this situation he can handle just fine.

Satoru snickers, and Yuuji's gaze snaps up to his before darting away, blanket drawing up over his entire head. Cute, he thinks as he cackles at the boy's embarrassment. He can hear the boy grumbling under the blanket at him, and his heart is fluttering again, and he thinks about the way they just kissed.

It wasn't for practice, and it wasn't to teach Yuuji anything. It wasn't for any reason at all. Satoru kissed him because he wanted to, and Yuuji kissed him back. Is it really so simple? He questions in his head, walking around to the side of the bed Yuuji's on. He tugs the blanket off the boy's head and grins down at him, and Yuuji stares up at him with wide, golden eyes, alight with joy.

His face grows a little warm at remembering everything from last night. They really went for it, dove all in on things that are, honestly, intense for someone at Yuuji's age to be doing. Especially considering his first kiss was three days ago. Satoru hasn't even given him a handjob, but he's eaten him out like that was the logical next step.

"Are you okay with how things went last night?" Satoru checks in, not wanting to leave without at least mentioning it. He gauges his reaction, searching for any signs of genuine discomfort or regret. But Yuuji just sits up in bed with red cheeks, a hand rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment.

"Uh, yeah, you could say that," Yuuji answers with a smile. "Surprising, but awesome. I didn't think you would actually come back home."

Satoru blinks. "Home," he mumbles to himself, testing the word out for himself. Yuuji calls this place home. Yuuji tilts his head with a questioning sound. "Well, I didn't think I was going to either. It was a surprise for us both," he manages to get out, and the teen laughs, but Satoru is still thinking about home.

"Does it still count as phone sex?" Yuuji asks so seriously that Satoru can't keep in his laugh. "What? I wanna know if it counts or not!"

"If you're this unsure if it 'counts', and you really want to have the full phone sex experience, then I guess that means we will just have to try again, right?" Satoru purrs, smirking down at the boy's flustered expression.

"Oh, okay. Yeah, I'm super unsure, so we should definitely try again sometime."

Satoru laughs again and moves to ruffle his hair affectionately and push at his head. The boy flops back onto the bed, sprawled out and comfortable and happy. He lingers there, deeply unwilling to leave. It's so different than how he felt the last time. Yuuji grins up at him, eyes slipping closed, and Satoru swears that if the teen had a tail, it would be wagging.

Satoru bends down slowly, hands placed on either side of his head and closing him in, but giving Yuuji time to stop him if he wants to. His gaze flickers between the boy's eyes and his lips, which are parted in anticipation. Yuuji doesn't stop him or make any move to kiss him first, but he does loop his arms around his neck loosely, as if he's patiently waiting for Satoru to do this at his pace. It seems they're both giving each other time. What a waste.

Satoru kisses him again, chaste and with no reason, their lips molding together with a soft press. It's new, this one. It's different in its slowness and lack of real movement. Satoru disconnects their lips, and when Yuuji looks at him, it's with so much awe that Satoru wants to be sick. The boy runs a finger over his cheekbone and to the outer corner of his eye, fluttering them closed on instinct, and Yuuji brushes along his eyelashes with his thumb.

Satoru doesn't believe he's ever entrusted someone to be this intimate with his eyes.

Yuuji kisses him again, slow and unhurried, and it burns with how right this feels when it shouldn't. Every kiss they have shared has been hot and heavy and electrifying. They had an edge to them, the urge to rush and take as much as they could while given the chance. They've been incredible. But this - it's on its own level. There's no clawing hands or desperate urgency. Yuuji only runs his hands down his body with a feather-light touch, fingers curving into his waist. It's a simple connection, a gentle exchange. Satoru wonders if this is what it would be like to cradle the sun in the palms of his hands.

It tapers off, and they simply breathe with each other for a moment, the sun beginning to fully rise and brighten the room to a calm yellow. Whenever Satoru gets to watch the sunrise, he will always think of Yuuji. He'll never regret knowing him, no matter what happens. He never wants to forget him.

"You have to get going," Yuuji whispers, the words reminding him of everything he wishes he could forget.

"Ugh," he voices his disgust and Yuuji giggles. He gives him a final peck, working hard to not linger this time, and stands up straight, the boy's hands falling away. Never being in all that much of a hurry for much in life, he stretches again and glances around his room. He realizes all he has to do is teleport back to his hotel room, only bringing himself and his phone that he needs to go back with. 

"I'll text you later to ask about dinner," he settles on saying, knowing the time has come to be a responsible adult about something in his life by going to this meeting and giving his report. "I'll be getting paid, too, so we can go extra crazy." 

Yuuji brightens, sitting up as he seemingly gets an idea. "Can you buy ingredients? I want to cook!"

"Sure. Whatever you want."

He means it. Yuuji senses it, smile growing softer, and his hands boldly grab at his hips to tug him close enough to press the side of his face to his stomach. His arms wrap around his lower back, and Satoru is stunned for a moment at the hug. But he cradles the back of his head and rubs at his upper back soothingly, even though he's not used to the intimacy. He doesn't know how Yuuji does it so effortlessly.

"I hope you're feeling better than before, Sensei," the teen mumbles, and Satoru's heart skips a beat. Effortless. Caring. Pretty.

"I am, Yuuji. Thank you," he confirms softly, and he means this, too. Satoru releases him and steps away, the boy's hands lingering on his hips. It's thrilling to be touched so freely like this by Yuuji, in ways they never did before. "I'll be home later."

Yuuji nods, and as Satoru clasps his hands together to leave, he decides he quite likes the way home sounds.

- - -

When Satoru returns that evening, arms full of shopping bags, it's to Yuuji sitting in the kitchen, smiling at him broadly. He grins back, greeting him cheerfully, loudly, obnoxiously, and he knows he's over-the-top with his expressions. Satoru is, in general, a lot to deal with, and right now he can sense that he's in that category. He knows it's because of how the day went. Satoru understands he's overcompensating, in a way. 

But the teen matches his energy with ease, shouting out, "Welcome home, Sensei!"

The words aren't special, but the way he says it is.

Satoru's movements stutter and he isn't sure how to respond, so he skims over it, dumping the bags on the counter. Yuuji digs through them as he ruffles the boy's hair. It's still sticking up wildly. 

They spread everything out and get to work, though Yuuji is the better cook, especially compared to Satoru. Knowing the little bit he knows of Yuuji's upbringing - alone with just his grandfather, taking care of himself and the older man until that day - it makes sense that he would know how to cook this well. It doesn't make it any less impressive.

Satoru causes it to become a much more chaotic process than necessary, but Yuuji is laughing, and their hands are lingering as they brush by each other in the close space. It's intimate, and it's domestic, and Satoru thinks he understands what Yuuji meant when he said home now. He sinks his teeth into the warm emotions, feeling much too similar to a desperate, starving, feral dog that someone is trying to steal a meal from.

It was a rough day.

That's not to say things went poorly. Satoru is not someone who can be walked on. The higher-ups are just annoying, and listening to them ask boring questions about something he wasn't even needed for is not how he likes to spend his time. He made that very clear. He also didn't particularly like the way they tried to start a conversation on Yuuji's death.

Satoru interrupted with a smile, informing them that if this conversation continued, they'd better be prepared to explain the suspicious nature of his death. At their loud attempts to question his audacity, he had lowered his blindfold and also informed them that the next time they tainted the sound of the boy's name with their foul intentions, they'd never speak again. 

They didn't say anything else related to Yuuji, and Satoru left with a cold air around him and irritation locking his body up with a frozen fragility. Sometimes he thinks they forget who they're talking to, and while it takes a lot for Satoru to break, the wrong thing will manage to do it. Attempting to kill Itadori Yuuji was one of them. 

The world is lucky he was led down the sane path - that killing people he doesn't like just because he's capable of it, doesn't mean that he should. The higher-ups are lucky that he's more calculating than that. Those idiots are running things, Satoru thinks bitterly, and they don't even know that someone who is this important, and fairly dangerous, is still alive.

Even while thinking about it, he observes Yuuji and can barely fathom how he is dangerous. Sometimes he forgets what's lurking inside of him. He wonders what the King of Curses has been thinking this whole time.

Satoru thinks he shouldn't question the silence. He also thinks he should ask Yuuji.

Despite not wanting the boy to have to listen to whatever Sukuna might be saying in there, he's disturbingly curious. He can't help himself. Maybe that's his ego. Satoru doesn't care enough to think about it any harder.

Satoru sets the table for them, and they sit around it, Yuuji already rambling about the next movie he wants to watch that he saw in the pile, and really, Satoru's not even sure it's necessary for him to train this way anymore. The teen caught on quickly, so it's not even a challenge, but he clearly enjoys the movie aspect. Who is Satoru to take that away from him?

They eat, and it's delicious because Yuuji is a good cook, and Satoru forgets about the day. The cold, ice-like rigidity he has been cloaked in melts away under Yuuji's bright smile and melodic laughter, and Satoru indulges in him shamelessly. The boy's cheeks have been tinted pink since he arrived, a detail that could never be lost on him, and it's cute. It shows his youth, to be blushing at simply being in the presence of someone he cares about. It's something Satoru hasn't felt in a long time.

But the smile that won't leave his face, along with the barely-there shake of his hands, lets Satoru know that, in his own way, he feels it, too.

They clean up the dishes together, Satoru washing and Yuuji drying, because he did all the cooking and it seemed fair - Satoru is capable of kindness - and when it's finally late enough to call it a night, Yuuji races down the hallway with childlike excitement to Satoru's bedroom.

He doesn't question it, just trails after him with gentle curiosity, only to see the boy in his closet and pulling out a white shirt. Satoru leans in the doorway, watching him remove his current navy blue shirt and slip on Satoru's in its place, and he really believes this is it for him. He stands there, heart about to burst through his chest, and prepares to collapse to the floor dead.

Yuuji just smiles at him, arms outstretched as if he's asking how he looks, seeming to be oblivious to Satoru's pending demise. He can't process that he's this comfortable with entering Satoru's private space and taking his clothes right in front of him, though he really shouldn't be surprised. The boy had snuck into his room while he was away to lay in his bed after wearing his crewneck for two days.

A memory sneaks in, of when Yuuji had been brought to the dorms for the first time. Megumi had told him not to go in his room, only for the boy to immediately stick his head in to gawk at everything there was to see. He huffs, understanding now that it's just in Yuuji's nature to want to be close. Not only physically - which Satoru welcomes with literal open arms - but in every other way as well.

Yuuji makes casual intimacy seem so simple. Maybe it is simple. Maybe that's why it's referred to as casual. Satoru is still trying to figure that out.

He enters his room fully and removes his uniform so that he's only in his black undershirt and boxer briefs, the boy openly watching as he does so. Removing his blindfold, he grabs Yuuji's hand and guides him towards his bed silently, lifting the covers and wordlessly inviting him to stay. He's ashamed to admit he doesn't think he could verbally ask - it would feel too vulnerable to say it out loud. 

Regardless, Yuuji wordlessly accepts, crawling in with a buzzing energy that has no desire laced through it. Satoru recognizes that this isn't part of teaching the boy things or giving him experience, but he doesn't hesitate. He wants this. He wants Yuuji to stay tonight. Even if it's only this once. He secretly hopes it's not.

Much like the night before, he flicks off the lamp and climbs in next to him, pulling the blanket over them both. Yuuji curls into him in the same way, their legs intertwining and arms holding each other close. Satoru takes a deep breath, and mutters a goodnight, finally feeling everything settle into a soft, warm contentedness. He's no longer pretending, and he's quiet in his peace. 

Yuuji matches that energy, too, and whispers, "Goodnight, Sensei."

The words aren't special, but the way he says it is.

The sky is pitch black outside the window, the sun gone and darkness taking over in its absence. Satoru doesn't feel the emptiness or loneliness that he's used to. There's no fear that it will drag on forever this time. The sun is sleeping in his arms, and the night will end when he awakens.

Satoru presses a kiss to the top of Yuuji's head. He's excited to watch the sunrise tomorrow.

Chapter Text

Fifteen days.

Satoru continues to go on missions, and Yuuji watches movies with the cursed doll clutched close when Satoru pops in unannounced. Yuuji continues to grow stronger, just as he vowed to do, and Satoru continues to be proud of his insane progress. They continue to eat dinner together when Satoru is home, and they spar in the forest when there's time. 

It's also been fifteen days. Satoru doesn't know why he's keeping count. He's not sure what he was expecting. It's been fifteen days since Satoru invited Yuuji to bed, and nothing has happened since.

He knows he shouldn't be so stuck on this. Yuuji asked for help with specific things, and if there's nothing he's currently interested in from Satoru, then it is what it is. Maybe Satoru thought Yuuji would be more willing, even outside of the odd arrangement they started. He accidentally got emotionally attached to everything Yuuji had to offer, and he supposes that isn't the teen's fault.

They haven't talked more about it, but that's mostly due to Satoru not having enough time. Yuuji's big surprise moment is quickly approaching, and at the end of the day, Satoru wants him to be ready. Despite it all, he's still his teacher, and he's determined to do this right. Yuuji died, was assassinated, and Satoru wants to make it as clear as possible that that was a one-time mistake on his part. It won't ever be happening again. 

Satoru watches the trees go by in a blur through the backseat window, anxious to be home. This mission was short, only two days, but he had just gotten back from a four-day mission, only having six hours to spare between. The higher-ups must be attempting to punish him these past fifteen days. It's working, though not in the way they intended.

He doesn't care about being out on missions. He misses Yuuji.

He had sent a text to the boy to let him know he was headed back, and Yuuji had sent a selfie, holding up a peace sign with a toothy grin. He was on the couch in the basement, television illuminating his face, and Satoru misses him.

Not only has it been fifteen days since anything has happened, but it's been that long since Yuuji has openly touched him.

Satoru isn't sure what to do with that. He's always been touchy with the teen, and despite his usual carelessness of other people's feelings about how physical he is, he felt the shift with Yuuji. Listening to that gut feeling for the first time in his life to not touch someone has been strange for him, and it feels even worse because it's Yuuji. 

Things have been the same as usual, but also completely different. Something is off. Yuuji had insisted he wouldn't regret it, and nothing he had done or said gave any hints that he did, but maybe Satoru was wrong. Maybe his own desires and emotions are clouding his judgment. 

Yuuji has gradually drifted a little further away, the space growing between them fairly obvious, in Satoru's opinion. The teen never quite meets his gaze, but Satoru can tell his eyes are dimmer, like he's lost in his own head. His smile isn't as wide as it usually is. His shoulders are tense. His hands stay in his hoodie pockets. He's closed up and hidden away, and Satoru doesn't know what changed.

Satoru has never been very good at taking a gentle approach to things. He always says and asks things bluntly, but he's worried he will come off as harsh or overbearing in this situation. Yuuji is in charge of what he wants and when he wants it, and it's not for Satoru to pry into the reasons for it. But it's difficult to not take it personally when the teen will barely even fully face him when they are in the same room. 

Satoru is antsy. He misses Yuuji. He craves the intimacy he didn't know he wanted until he had it. It was just as quickly stripped away from him, and it's like he's going through withdrawal. He might truly become addicted to Yuuji.

Maybe tonight they should discuss things in depth. Satoru will keep his feelings held close to his heart in order to figure out where Yuuji's head is at. He will do his best to be soft with his words. The last thing he wants is to sound accusatory. He's worried about Yuuji.

When the surroundings are familiar, he pulls out his phone and sends a quick selfie as well, tongue poking out and holding up his own peace sign. He sends a text after it, saying he's almost there, and has Ijichi stop the car where they usually do.

The man does, bidding him goodnight and pulling away, allowing Satoru privacy. He has always been strict on people not knowing where this house is, but especially so now with Yuuji hiding away there. Ijichi may know the boy is alive, but he is not at all willing to risk having his location sitting dormant in someone's mind. Satoru is the only one who needs to know. 

Yuuji doesn't even really know where he is - hidden away, deep in the woods, with no surrounding life. It truly is just Satoru and Yuuji out here, and even if Yuuji wanted to leave, he wouldn't know where to go. A sick sort of satisfaction curls in his gut. He likes that more than he should. 

When Satoru wanders down to the basement, the boy is sitting on the couch, eyes glued to the screen. A city is exploding, clearly at an intense point in the plot, so Satoru remains quiet as he walks to stand behind him.

Without saying a word, he watches Yuuji's back straighten, his entire body freezing as he apparently senses a presence behind him. Took him a little too long, Satoru can't help but criticize in his mind, the boy's head tilting back against the couch to stare up at him upside down. His face shifts from surprise to unabashed joy.

"Gojo-Sensei," he greets loudly through a smile, eyes brighter than they have been in days. "You almost scared me again. I think I'm getting better at feeling when you're around."

Satoru stares down at him. "Yuuji-kun, you should know I'm here when I'm outside the front door," he teases, poking his forehead admonishingly. It's the first contact they've had in a week. Yuuji pouts up at him. "You are getting better, though. At least you recognize that it's me."

"Well, to be fair, I'm never expecting it to be anyone but you, Sensei," Yuuji mumbles, "but thanks. I do my best."

Satoru doesn't smile, even though Yuuji is. His energy is low, and he can't tell if he's tired, sad about something, or both. He cups the boy's upside-down face, his golden-brown eyes widening at him innocently.

"Let's catch up, Yuuji-kun," he says mildly, "it's been a while since we've had time to talk, hasn't it?" He attempts to keep his tone light, careful to not scare him. The boy just blinks owlishly.

"Okay," he replies simply, looking more baffled at Satoru's suggestion than anything. Satoru moves to sit next to him on the couch, not pausing the movie but instead turning the volume down. Maybe it will help Yuuji not feel cornered. He faces forward as if he's looking at the screen, but his eyes are locked on Yuuji. 

"I've missed you, Sensei," the teen admits softly, sincerely. Satoru hums.

"Well, I'm surprised. You have been hiding from me, right?" He watches Yuuji's head snap towards him to stare at him in bewildered embarrassment. He smiles to himself but takes a moment to remember to be gentle about it. "You can tell me if you have been, Yuuji-kun."

The boy fidgets with the cursed doll snoozing in his lap, and Satoru places a hand on it to turn it off. While it would be good training to see how he controls his energy, it wouldn't feel right. Especially if it burst awake to throw a punch. Yuuji doesn't need that.

"I wasn't - I wouldn't say I was hiding from you," he mumbles, trailing off with no further explanation. 

"Then what are you trying to hide from me?" Satoru continues to question him, keeping up the light tone. Yuuji bites at his lip, eyes downcast. He fiddles with the things ear as he thinks of his response. Satoru ignores his own impatience.

"The brat is hiding from his perverted Sensei."

Satoru freezes at the grating voice, cruelty seeping into the room. He side-eyes the boy next to him, who has also frozen, eyes wide and angry. The teen slaps his own cheek, the one Satoru can't see, but it doesn't stop the King of Curses from speaking.

A mouth appears on the cheek Satoru can see, one blood-red eye cracking open to stare at him.

"You're supposed to be a good person? Are all Jujutsu sorcerers like this? Do they all fuck children? Maybe this era isn't so bad," he spits out, laughing loudly in the otherwise silent basement. Satoru doesn't move, doesn't bother looking at him directly. His heart is beating a little harder in his chest at Sukuna's words, but he's not the type to take it lying down.

"My, my, Sukuna speaks," he announces, smiling wide, "I'm honored to be acknowledged by the King himself again."

"You're surprised he's hiding from you as if he isn't a coward," Sukuna says over his taunts. "What makes you think that he wouldn't run from someone who's raping him - "

"Shut up!" Yuuji suddenly shouts, both hands slamming into his cheeks with so much force it echoes around the room. 

Satoru is, admittedly, quite upset.

He's working hard to not outwardly show it, but his cursed energy flares in warning regardless. Yuuji must sense it, body going still and gaze glued to his blindfold.The boy is afraid, upset, but Satoru smiles kindly. 

"It's okay, Yuuji-kun," he reassures him calmly. "Sukuna is just mad that he's nothing but pieces, trapped inside a body that's stronger than he is. Don't mind him."

So maybe Satoru was riling him up on purpose by saying that. Maybe he wasn't done talking to him.

A mouth appears on the outside of Yuuji's hand this time. "This brat isn't strong, and he's not stronger than me. There's something wrong with him. You humans don't even understand what he is, but you think you can control him?"

"You're the problem here. There's nothing to control with Yuuji," Satoru dismisses with a wave of his hand.

"One thing. One moment. One bad day is all it will take. You can't possibly be so stupid that you don't know that." Sukuna's simple observation successfully riles Satoru up this time. His blood simmers, his smile fading into a thin line. He's aware of what one horrible situation can do to a powerful person. 

Satoru is real tired of comparing Yuuji to Suguru.

"Of course I know that. That's why everyone is trying to kill him. I can't help but notice that he's still alive, though," Satoru turns to stare directly at that grotesque mouth now. "Why is that?"

"I'm more curious about why you are groping the brat," Sukuna deflects. "You must be the type that loves when someone is vulnerable. Having such a pitiful thing completely alone and stuck here, relying on you for everything. It says more about you than it does him."

Yuuji's eyes flare with anger, but Satoru raises his hand to stop him from speaking. The boy looks at him, shameful and apologetic, but these aren't Yuuji's words. He has nothing to be sorry for or ashamed of.

"Maybe you're right," he says flippantly, raising his hand again at Yuuji's shocked expression, "but why does this matter to you? Why would you care if I fucked Yuuji-kun?" He pauses to gasp dramatically with a hand over his mouth. "It's not jealousy, is it? Such an ugly emotion would suit you," he jokes, looming in close to the mouth. 

"I hope you're jealous of Yuuji, though. I would understand that. Who doesn't want to fuck me, at least a little bit? But how bizarre would it be if you were jealous of me? So scandalous. How would you go about fucking your own vessel - "

"I can't wait to kill you," Sukuna interrupts, deep tone reverberating to Satoru's bones. "It'll be incredible to cut you into tiny pieces, one limb at a time, and watch that infuriating smile smear off your face. I'll revel in hearing you scream in agony, begging for mercy." 

Satoru smiles bigger in response, "Kind of kinky sounding. How fun. It's a good thing I know Reverse Cursed Technique then, isn't it? Although, that's only necessary if you manage to cut me at all. You can try as many times as you'd like. I wouldn't mind." His tone is flirtatious, and he barely notices that Yuuji is as stiff as a board, staring at him in shock.

"You do enjoy torture, don't you? The brat is going to die soon, and yet you're still doing all of this. Is that what that pathetic display was about?" Sukuna easily bites back. Satoru's grin falters for a second, but he doesn't let it slip. 

"Crying and wallowing in your own misery, all the while molesting your student like he's the best you can do. You must be doing this because he's easy. There's nothing interesting about this brat. How ridiculous," Sukuna spits maliciously, Satoru's energy flaring up again at the insults hurled towards Yuuji's worth. "For supposedly being the strongest sorcerer currently alive, you sure are weak."

"Sensei, please," Yuuji begs, strained and trembling, staring off with barely contained emotions. Satoru can sympathize. This wouldn't be easy to listen to for someone like him. 

"What is it you do in there? Ramble on like this all day and night? How boring," he mutters in annoyance. "I applaud Yuuji-kun's cheery attitude and his mental strength to listen to something like you speak when you have nothing of importance to say," Satoru leans back, crossing his legs leisurely. "I hope you continue to enjoy the show, King of Curses. You're going to be in there for a very long time. I guarantee it." 

Yuuji clasps a hand over that mouth, not allowing the curse any last words on the subject, squeezing his eyes shut and furrowing his brow in concentration. Satoru can feel the disgusting energy creep back, sinking down deep into Yuuji's being. The room is deathly quiet, both of them stiff. 

Satoru is buzzing with energy, the irritation and the thrill of a verbal fistfight fizzling under his skin, his blood running hot. Yuuji is trembling, eyes remaining shut as he breathes through his own adrenaline rush. Satoru doesn't speak yet, wanting to give Yuuji whatever time he may need.

That certainly isn't how Satoru wanted the evening to go.

He knew Sukuna had been far too docile the past few weeks, and he should have asked Yuuji more questions about that. Based on the guilt painting his features, Sukuna hasn't truly been all that quiet. 

"I'm sorry, Gojo-Sensei," Yuuji weakly says. "Sometimes he sneaks out still."

Satoru doesn't respond right away, mulling over everything that happened, everything that was said. Sukuna didn't say much of anything Satoru hadn't already thought of himself, but his way of thinking put some new things into perspective.

"How long has he been filling your head with these sorts of things?" He finally asks, crossing his arms. The teen swallows before answering.

"Since that morning."

Satoru sighs deeply, drumming his fingers against his arm in thought. "So for fifteen days, you have been listening to him babble on about us?"

"Fifteen - " Yuuji mumbles, cutting off to stare at him. "You - I mean, I guess so?" He doesn't sound sure, but Satoru supposes he was the one that was counting.

"What else has he said that has been bothering you?" Satoru continues.

"Just that stuff, basically," Yuuji says, but he has lowered his eyes and his shoulders are scrunching up towards his ears.

"Please don't lie to me. There's no reason to, at this point," he says sternly, though he maintains a hushed tone. He needs Yuuji to open up. He needs Yuuji to stop hiding from him. The boy still flinches regardless.

"I'm not lying, it's just - he says the same things, just in different ways. I don't know," he shakes his head, bowing over and running his hands through his hair in frustration. Satoru uncrosses his arms and leans forward, hand landing on his shoulder in an attempt to be comforting.

"I'm not trying to frustrate you, but this is important to talk to me about," Satoru attempts to placate. "You have been different for a while now. I'm going to notice that. I've been waiting for you to come to me, and you didn't. I would have preferred to hear this from you."

"None of that is how I feel," Yuuji exclaims, whipping his head up to stare at him with desperation. "I know you were upset that morning, and I don't know why, but it doesn't mean you're weak. Plus, you're doing this stuff with me because I asked. How can you be doing something wrong? I'm pretty sure I want all of this more than you do. If anything, I'm the pervert."

Satoru blinks in shock. "Yuuji, you don't need to try and defend me, and you don't need to make yourself out as a bad person - "

"I'm the one chasing after my Sensei," Yuuji interrupts as if he hadn't spoken, eyes wild and mouth curled in disgust. "I basically forced you into this. I kept pushing, and pushing, until you gave in. Sukuna was right, you wouldn't ever look twice at someone like me. I've been so selfish, and it's hurting you, especially because I'm going to die soon, and you're the one that - "

"Yuuji," Satoru almost shouts his name, grasping at the boy's shoulders to halt his downward-spiraling rant. He looks up at Satoru, eyes wet and face flushing, distraught and disgusted. His breathing is labored, fists clenched tight in his lap. When the boy stays silent, Satoru speaks again.

"Yuuji, don't take this the wrong way, but you could never force me to do anything. Nobody can. I've said this before, and I'm saying it again - if I didn't want to do all of this with you, I wouldn't. Trust me, Sukuna is not right about any of that." 

Yuuji blinks rapidly, expression morphing into something sad but nodding in understanding. Satoru pauses, and he decides that now is a good time to be a little more honest. How can he expect Yuuji to be open if he doesn't try to do the same? 

"Do you think so little of yourself? Are you going to value a curse's opinion over mine? You would know if I didn't like you. Don't ever doubt your value to me."

"Because of Sukuna?" Yuuji whispers, gaze shifting to the side. It takes Satoru a moment to understand the question, and he frowns when he does. 

"I don't value you purely because you're a vessel," Satoru clarifies gently. "You are a person outside of that. I have you here because I care for you," he cradles the boy's face delicately, speaking through his discomfort. "You're strong, and you're kind. I feel I can be myself with you because you understand me. I value you, Yuuji, for everything you are."

No matter how delicately he holds him, Yuuji still shatters in his hands.

His face breaks open, tears welling up rapidly in his golden eyes and spilling down his flushed cheeks. A pitiful sound of frustration escapes him, his bottom lip caught between his teeth like he's trying desperately to hold it all in. It's too late. Satoru sees it all, even if he isn't sure what emotions Yuuji is feeling. He swipes at the boy's tears and scoots in closer on the couch, back stiff and uneasiness rippling through him.

Satoru's really not comfortable being this open about his feelings. He's trying.

"Do you mean that?" Yuuji quietly asks in disbelief through the sudden tears.

"Yuuji. I'm not someone who says things that I don't mean. When have I ever lied to you to be kind?" Satoru deadpans. Yuuji chuckles, a wobbly smile breaking through.

"You're right. Even if it's hard to hear sometimes, you say it how it is." Yuuji sniffles and Satoru removes his hands to let the boy wipe his face with his hoodie sleeves.

"Can I see you?" Yuuji asks with a quivering voice. Satoru wastes no time in sliding his blindfold off his head entirely, hair falling freely and eyes adjusting. Yuuji's expression crumples a little more. "I feel like a child crying like this."

"You are a child," Satoru says, despite the fact it might sound harsh. "You're also my responsibility. You can't let Sukuna's words get to you. This is exactly why he's saying it - to get you like this. He thrives on making you miserable. Don't allow it."

Yuuji nods at his firm tone, face buried in his sleeve-covered hands and elbows resting on his knees. He doesn't look much better. He's stuck on something, that much is obvious. Satoru remains quiet and observes him, giving Yuuji space. His own stomach is in knots now, adrenaline not easing in the slightest. He hasn't had a moment to collect himself.

"Why are you doing this?" Yuuji whispers the question into his sleeves. When he lifts his face to stare at him, his face is scrunched up in tired confusion. The knot in Satoru's stomach pulls tighter at the thought of opening up more. 

Yuuji continues with a shake of his head, "Also, you aren't - you aren't raping me if I'm asking you to do things with me. You're not groping or molesting me, or anything like that. Sukuna's wrong there. I wanted this. But," the teen pauses, staring at the floor. "Sukuna was kinda right - you could do better. You can have anyone you want. You don't need to be doing this. So why are you?" 

The boy gazes up at him with uncertainty, the raw state of him making Satoru want to crack open his chest and ribs to let him see his insides to match the vulnerability Yuuji is displaying right now. He's not sure he can do it any other way. He's not like Yuuji.

Maybe that's why Yuuji is unsure in the first place. But he can't tell him how he feels. He pretends that it isn't what Yuuji needs to hear, but Satoru knows he just isn't capable of saying it.

But Satoru doesn't want to lose this because of Sukuna. 

He allows the discomfort to settle low in his stomach and steadies his breathing to a calm, quiet pace. He'll handle this. Satoru sighs heavily, cradling the boy's face again and staring at him intently. 

"I don't know, Yuuji. Does it matter to you why?" Satoru responds vaguely, stroking his jaw absentmindedly. "You're getting what you want, right?" Yuuji's throat shifts as he swallows, nodding mutely. Satoru's eyes flicker to watch the movement.

Satoru doesn't know how to express what he feels, not in a soft, kind way like Yuuji, and it doesn't help that he ended up being the one cornered in the conversation. Satoru wanted the teen to open up to him, but that came with Sukuna spewing his venom into their little bubble, and Yuuji asking the tough questions that Satoru doesn't want to answer. 

He doesn't want Yuuji to leave him. But he's not willing to reveal that he wants to keep him by his side forever.

"That's all that should matter to you. Don't listen to the bastard curse shouting things in your head. Who cares why, Yuuji? You want to have sex with me, don't you?" The teen nods again, eyes fluttering but unmoving from his. 

"Then don't question it," he states firmly. Yuuji is listening to him now, as he always does when Satoru gets serious. He drags one of his hands down to the side of his neck to feel the boy's pulse under his thumb. It's racing, his pupils blown and jaw clenched tight. 

Satoru would even dare to say that Yuuji likes it when he gets serious. Satoru would certainly like it if he did.

"Maybe I pity you and your circumstances," he continues, head tilting to the side. Yuuji doesn't look away. "Maybe I am a little crazy, and this is some twisted form of fun for me. Maybe I like that I get to be all of your firsts, and know that no one will compare to me." 

His hand curls around the front of his throat, wrapping itself around the fragile area delicately. The teen's breathing hitches noisily, eyes never leaving his. Yuuji is stiff in his grasp, and Satoru's own pulse thunders in his neck. He truly feels like a predator with his prey between his claws, careful not to squirm or shriek out of fear. Yuuji instinctually senses danger, and Satoru doesn't blame him. He's getting carried away, still riding the high from the interaction with Sukuna and being accused of things he's not sure he's entirely innocent of. He's in a gray zone - consensual, but morally wrong. That alone shouldn't cause heat to pool low in his gut. It does.

"Maybe it is because I'm a pervert, preying on someone reliant on me during their loneliest point in life," his voice is airy, eyes raking over every inch of Yuuji's face as it twists into something Satoru can't quite place. "Who knows, Yuuji? You asked me to help you, so I am. More reason than that isn't necessary, is it?"

Don't leave now, he thinks. I don't want to be done yet.

"Stop giving Sukuna your attention. He doesn't matter. Shut him up. If you ever think you can't, I will." I haven't shown you everything.

Yuuji stays still, but whispers, "Okay."

"You understand what I'm saying, right?" Yuuji blinks a few times. I don't want to stop.

"Yes, Sensei," he whispers again. "I understand. Don't let Sukuna influence me and my decisions, and don't let him mess with my head."

"Good, Yuuji," he lowers his hand from his neck to his shoulder. The boy's eyes flutter shut as he exhales slowly, body relaxing a little in the process. "Forgive me. I only want you to do what feels right to you."

"I know," Yuuji breathes out, genuinely seeming to agree and finally understand. "I want this still. I really do." The teen's darkened eyes flicker back up to meet his, and he's overly aware of his hand on Yuuji's shoulder, of those eyes roaming across his exposed face, of the sound of their breathing that's a little too labored for having a conversation.

The high level of emotion from the moment Sukuna arrived has them strung tight, the atmosphere thick with a specific sort of heaviness. They had never fully discussed what they were doing, or the gravity of it all. They just tumbled their way headfirst into sexual escapades, and neither of them took the time to question it. Satoru has known Yuuji's intentions since the beginning, the teen making it abundantly clear what he wanted Satoru to do and why.

Yuuji has no idea why Satoru is so willing, and he can see why the boy would want to have an answer to that eventually. He could be putting his reputation at even more risk, he could lose his position, he could be outcast entirely from Jujutsu society. Yuuji probably fears all of that for him, in place of him really, since Satoru isn't worried at all. 

However, Satoru doesn't want to destroy Yuuji's life more than it already has been because they're fucking while he's supposed to be dead.

He needs to know Yuuji won't tell anyone for his own sake. Everyone who has talked to Itadori Yuuji for a solid minute has realized he's not a monster, but the exact opposite of one, despite what's lurking inside of him. That's just who Yuuji is, and he wants to protect that. Maybe then fewer people will be out to kill him when Satoru can't be there for him.

No one would bat an eye in their direction, and even if they did, it would only be at Satoru. That isn't anything new. Satoru is already seen as a creep who's too friendly with people he shouldn't be. 

"Stick by that decision, Yuuji," he smiles, hand stroking down his arm. "Don't waste your time or your energy getting stuck on the possibility of a problem. We're both saying we want this. There's nothing else to it. Okay?"

Yuuji makes a small noise of understanding, but Satoru can't bring himself to remove his hand yet. He's still uncomfortable, the unsatisfying itch crawling along his skin because nothing actually happened. He loves a good fight, loves using his words like a weapon, and the feeling of flesh breaking under his fists, knowing he's unbreakable, untouchable, unmatched. Something like Sukuna might be fun for him for once. 

But in the end, it's Yuuji who would suffer the consequences of a fight like that, and Satoru isn't sure he could handle the weight of it. Even someone like him would carry that guilt for the rest of his life. 

The boy moves, settling against the couch and dislodging Satoru's hand. He lets it fall back in his lap, ignoring the way it twitches. He craves to put his blindfold on again, feeling too exposed now after everything has been said. Yuuji sighs and closes his eyes.

"Do you want to finish your movie?" Satoru asks to fill the silence. "I need to shower and change. Have you eaten? I don't know what we have, but I can cook something, too, and let you continue with training. Plus, you were at quite the climactic point in the movie. I remember this one! The lead guy ends up not being - "

"Gojo-Sensei, no spoilers," Yuuji softly interjects with amusement. "Also, you're rambling." Satoru blinks at the television screen, discomfort stretching out further at being called out. He doesn't say anything else, refusing to look at the teen next to him, and watches the movie play out quietly.

"Sensei," Yuuji starts to say, one of his hands landing on his shoulder now. "Go shower and change, and I'll finish up the movie. We'll figure it out from there." His voice is comforting, smooth and kind, and Satoru shouldn't be the one being consoled by Yuuji. It should be the other way around.

"Sorry, sorry," he apologizes with a light laugh. "I'm a bit wound up, is all. I'll go relax with a hot shower." He stands up, but halts all motion when Yuuji grasps his hand.

"I'm sorry for avoiding you, Sensei."

Satoru's hand twitches again, and Yuuji can feel it this time. He laughs, but it's a little too hollow. "Don't apologize. If you ever need space, it's not my place to force my presence on you. I should have no expectations of you, you know?" He squeezes the boy's hand in his and finally lowers his gaze to meet Yuuji's. He's worried, Satoru realizes, and that just won't do. 

"I never want you to feel pressured, or like you need to do more, or that you have to constantly be glued to my side. However, if something is bothering you, please let me know. Before anything else, I'm here for you."

Yuuji holds on tighter and looks down, mulling over his thoughts before speaking. "You counted the days."

Satoru holds his breath. 

Yuuji meets his eyes again. "I didn't know it would bother you to that level. I just," the teen pauses, frustrated about something suddenly, and Satoru wants to run away, to leave the conversation entirely. "You want me to come to you when I'm bothered, so you should do the same."

Satoru still isn't breathing. He doesn't want to lay any burdens on Yuuji - that has been the whole point this entire time. He's already overwhelmed by his honesty with him, and he really doesn't want to keep baring his soul to him. He'll reveal too much.

But the boy's eyes are pleading, face set with determination, and Satoru knows this is supposed to be an equal trade. This is supposed to be about both of them. Satoru doesn't have a choice at this point, because Yuuji won't back down until he agrees.

Satoru releases a long exhale, shoulders relaxing and hand squeezing Yuuji's smaller one again. "Okay," he finally whispers. "I'll let you know if something is bothering me, too."

"Before it's been fifteen days, and you have been overthinking and worrying about it," Yuuji adds on, a grin sneaking onto his face, and Satoru laughs with actual warmth this time.

"Yeah, yeah, and you do the same," he begrudgingly agrees. Whether or not he sticks to it is another story. They stare at each other for a moment, both of them smiling, and he already feels more at ease than before. He still wants to throw some punches or scratch his skin off and heal it like it never happened, but he's better.

He walks back, their hands lingering before they separate, and he disappears upstairs to shower and change. 

He's slow about it, taking his time to turn the water on and undress. The layers fall off, and he already starts to feel so much better, the steam filling the room and easing his mind. His skin is crawling and his muscles are jittering, so he steps into the spray of water and cranks it way hotter than he should. 

The water pours over his head and shoulders, streaming down his back, and the heat of it burns in the best way. Satoru has half a mind to jerk off and release the tension in his body from a fight half-fought. Energy simmers under his skin, adrenaline zipping through his veins, and naturally aggressive instinct always kicks in for Satoru when he's forced to reveal raw emotions. He wants to lash out, bare his teeth and snarl until he's back in control of the situation.

It's never fun for him. He isn't acting necessarily - he's incredibly true to himself, and he goes about life with a whimsical carelessness and brashness because he's Gojo Satoru. No one can do anything about it. He is who he is, regardless of the fact almost everyone dislikes who he is. But easing down the facade, even a little bit, reminds other people that he is, in fact, a human just like they are.

While Satoru wishes to be seen as a person, he doesn't like the vulnerability that comes with it. He's learning that the hard way with Yuuji. Satoru thinks Yuuji might be the only person who sees through the facade without Satoru even letting it slip. It's a trait he finds terrifying, fascinating, thrilling.

He can't stop himself from trying, from allowing him in bit by bit. Because as much as it sucks, he craves the attention the boy can give him.

He's seen, and it's refreshingly scary.

In the end, Satoru decides to simply wash himself, scrubbing the soap in leisurely but thoroughly. It's nice, his muscles finally giving in to the scalding warmth and growing lightheaded from the steam. He takes deep breaths, mind going empty with nothing but the sound of the water echoing through the bathroom.

In his moment of peace, he senses a presence nearby. He knows it's Yuuji, but his interest is piqued by how close it is. Satoru is certain Yuuji is in his bedroom.

He turns off the water and steps out, the house silent as he grabs a towel and ruffles it through his hair. He secures it around his waist and hesitates at the door, deeply aware of the boy in his room on the other side of it. He didn't bring clothes, so he supposes he'll be giving the teen a show.

Arousal manages to crackle through his body again, softer than before.

He opens the door and steps out, steam billowing out with him, and spots Yuuji perched on the edge of his bed, visibly lost in thought. His attention snaps over to him though, eyes wide and furiously blushing at the sight of him in nothing but a towel, water dripping down and off of him. Satoru can't contain a smile, his ego inflating as the boy sits up straight, gaze roaming every part of him.

"Yuuji-kun," he greets lowly, "did you finish the movie so soon?"

The teen's eyes flick up to meet his, swallowing harshly. "No, I - I couldn't really focus on it," he stammers out. "I can watch it tomorrow." Yuuji nervously rubs at his own thighs, taking a steadying breath. Satoru walks closer and stands in front of him, their eyes locked on each other the whole time, and Satoru doesn't get the predator and prey vibe anymore. Yuuji has risen to his level, watching his every move like he's waiting to strike himself. It's exhilarating.

"What's on your mind now?" He roughly asks.

"I'm restless," he answers, his voice soft but low, eyes gazing up at him with liquid heat. It burns him more than the shower did.

"Did the tousle with Sukuna get you riled up, too?" He steps in closer, directly in front of the teen on his bed. Yuuji's head cranes back to maintain eye contact.

"I guess. He's irritating. He gets under my skin. And then, the way you - " he shakes his head, eyes slipping closed. Satoru's heart picks up in speed.

"The way I what?" He finds himself asking, prompting him to go ahead and say it.

"You laugh in his face," Yuuji says, voice just barely trembling. "You bit back at him just as hard, and the way you looked while you did it - you're just - yeah," he finishes lamely, seeming to be embarrassed. A smile splits Satoru's face.

"Ah, so you like it when I'm a little mean?" 

"You're mean, but you say it so nicely," Yuuji explains further. "It reminds me of the fight with that weird volcano head curse. I had already thought you were kind of hot before that, but watching you talk down to something that I thought was super strong and have fun doing it? It sorta pushed things over the edge of you being kinda hot into - well, someone I think about when I shouldn't."

The boy is fully flushed, gaze trailing down his chest and hands gripping his shorts tightly. Satoru stands proud, absolutely preening under Yuuji's admission. He wonders if he will ever get used to hearing the teen admit to thinking of him to get off.

"You like it when I praise you," Satoru admits his own observation, "but I wonder if you would also like it if I was a little mean to you if I did it nice enough."

Yuuji looks up at him, breathing getting heavier. "I-I don't know."

"Would you like to find out?" He asks, his heart racing and his own dick getting hard at the possibility of taking out some of his unresolved aggression. The fact that Yuuji feels the same way as he does is feeding into it, and deep down he isn't even certain how mean he's capable of being to Yuuji.

But the teen nods jerkily, a shaky breath escaping him. "Yeah. Yeah, I think I'd like to try."

Without further prompting, Satoru drops to his knees in front of Yuuji, placing his hands on his knees to urge them apart. The boy's hands hover over his own lap, and when Satoru scoots in closer and looks up, Yuuji is staring down at him in shock, black swallowing all color from his eyes. He grins.

"I'm gonna blow you, okay?" 

"You - I - " The boy stutters, unable to get words out.

"What's wrong, Yuuji? Do you not think you can handle it?" He cooes, eyes lowering to the slight bulge in his shorts. He runs his hands up his thighs, fingers grasping at the waistband to start tugging at them. "To be honest, I don't think you can handle it either, but I want to push you, you know?"

Yuuji says nothing, just lifts himself up enough for Satoru to pull his shorts and underwear down to his mid-thighs, half-hard cock springing out. Saliva pools in Satoru's mouth, remembering how nicely he filled his mouth before, and he's excited to put his all into this. He pauses though.

"Yuuji," he calls out gently, waiting for the boy to meet his eyes to ensure he's listening. "Are you familiar with the traffic light system?" 

Yuuji blinks down at him, trying to think. "Can you explain?"

"Green means good, yellow means slow down, and red means stop," Satoru explains simply. "If I ask you a color, answer honestly. If you need to, say a color. Do you understand?" Yuuji nods. "I need you to use your words."

The boy blushes deeper. "Yes, I understand, Sensei."

"Good, Yuuji," he praises lightly. His fingers curl around Yuuji's cock, giving it a firm stroke. He leans forward, hand braced on his strong thigh. "Color?"

"Green," Yuuji immediately answers, fingers gripping at the sheets. Satoru grins and licks up the side of his cock slowly.

Yuuji hisses, head falling back at the sensation. Satoru hums, stroking him a few more times to help get him fully hard. He swirls his tongue around the head and kisses it.

"Not as big as me, but it'll do, I suppose," he breathes, lightly insulting him to start slow with it. Yuuji's breath catches in his throat. Satoru licks again, tongue flat and dragging along the vein underneath. He finally wraps his lips gently around the head, humming again and enjoying the way the teen's hips jerk upwards and further into his mouth. Satoru pulls off.

"Don't get hasty, Yuuji," he reprimands softly. "If you can't control yourself, I'll have to stop."

"No, please," Yuuji breathily begs, shaking his head. "I can do it."

Satoru lazily strokes him, humming with doubt. "I'm not sure you can, but we'll see how long you last for. I'm quite good at this, you know."

"You're good at everything, Sensei," Yuuji needlessly praises him, but it works on Satoru anyway. He rewraps his lips around the head, stroking him while holding him in his mouth. He sinks lower, keeping the pressure light, and moves back up again, swirling his tongue around the head. Yuuji stays still this time, thigh flexed under his hand with the strain to do so.

Satoru sets a slow rhythm, his hand following closely with the motion of his mouth as he savors the taste and weight of Yuuji on his tongue. He's filling his mouth wonderfully now, cock hard but skin velvet smooth, precum leaking onto his tongue. He pops off, rubbing the tip across his lips to smear the wetness there.

"Maybe I should start using this as lipgloss," he teases. "What do you think, Yuuji?" The teen's eyes are locked onto his mouth, wide and hazy. One of his trembling hands reaches out to thumb at the corner of his mouth with a soft nod. Satoru gives him a lazy smile, and he dives back in, cheeks hollowing now to suck him properly.

Yuuji curses, thumb pressing at the corner of his mouth where it's stretched, most likely feeling the way his cock is sliding in and out. Satoru closes his eyes, losing himself in the repetitive motions and the quiet whimpers Yuuji is letting out. Satoru moves his hand away and places it on the other thigh, determined to take him deeper. 

He feels the head hit the back of his throat, and Satoru pauses, his body aching to reject the intrusion. It's been so long since he's done this, but he knows that he can. He pops off, the teen cursing loudly. Satoru breathes heavily.

"I'm not like you, Yuuji," Satoru rasps out. "I have a gag reflex. I can't swallow a bunch of disgusting shit or take cock like a whore."

Yuuji shivers, a pitched whine escaping him. "Sensei, please."

"Please what, Yuuji?" He asks, just to be mean, which is what he's supposed to do. Yuuji groans, head dropping low and thighs twitching.

"Please try." Arousal flashes even brighter in Satoru at Yuuji asking him to try and take him, to take all of him, and push himself past his own limits. He chuckles. 

"Yeah? Want me to try and take it like whore? Do it the way you would?"

Yuuji moans heartily in response, face twisted in humiliation, and Satoru swallows him down again, eyes closing blissfully. He works to quiet his brain, relaxing his entire body as it hits the back of his throat again, and he sinks even lower. His nose is buried in Yuuji's trimmed hair at the base, and he's holding his breath, staying still for a moment to get used to the feeling.

The teen is the opposite, breathing harshly and tangling his fingers in his wet hair. Satoru eases back, but Yuuji fights to keep him there, hands tugging him back down. Realistically, Satoru could fight back, but he's willing to let Yuuji think he has control. He can quietly take it for a moment.

Yuuji guides his head up by pulling his hair, and Satoru's cock throbs under his towel at the sensation of it. Just as quickly, he's being forced back down as gently as a person can, because it's Yuuji, and yet it still catches him off guard, throat tightening at the suddenness of it. But Yuuji moans loud and deep, hips not moving an inch just like he was told, so Satoru can't even reprimand him for it.

He never said Yuuji couldn't make Satoru move.

The boy pulls at his hair to lift him again, and forces himself deep into his throat again with less hesitance, picking up his own steady rhythm now. Satoru is slipping far away, brain static as Yuuji's thick cock rams into him shallowly, his own pulsing hotly. It's salty, and wet, drool spilling down his chin, and Satoru is at peace. His internal instincts are screaming distantly that he shouldn't be, that he's not getting nearly enough air, that he's going to pass out soon, that someone is holding him hostage and he needs to get out, to get away.

But Satoru couldn't be more lax, head going empty as he's used by Yuuji to release his aggression, his pent-up frustration coming out as he yanks Satoru's head by his hair for his own pleasure. It really has been a long time since he's been the one to shut off and be nothing but an object, a wet, warm, hole to fuck into. He went into this expecting to deal with his residual adrenaline, but instead, he's finally relaxed and has almost completely forgotten about everything from before.

Satoru's not good at emotional vulnerability, but this kind of openness he can handle.

Eventually, instinct wins, and he grips Yuuji's thighs tightly and pulls off and away, gasping in a sharp breath before coughing violently. After a few quick, deep breaths, he opens his eyes and gazes up at Yuuji, the boy staring at him with half-lidded eyes and mouth dropped open as he pants.

Satoru wants to taste him again, so he leans down and laves at his cock, maintaining eye contact as he does it to watch Yuuji's face twist with pleasure. As he begins to slowly take him into his mouth again, Yuuji brushes his hair back and away from his forehead.

"Fuck, Sensei, you always talk about how I look," Yuuji says under his breath, and Satoru's heart swells in his chest. He eases off, a string of spit connecting his tongue to his cock. He licks it away and hums in response, pushing up Yuuji's shirt and hoodie to feel his body. The boy's abs are also tensed with restraint, and mentally he gives Yuuji credit.

"Of course I look good. Did you forget who's doing this for you?" Satoru's voice is rough and airy as he continues to try and breathe. Yuuji meets his gaze steadily, unfazed by his cocky attitude. 

"I think I've been doing a lot of the work, Sensei, so that's kind of unfair," the teen responds lowly. Satoru lights up, releasing a surprised huff of air. 

"Careful, Yuuji-kun," he warns with a grin, "I can stop anytime I want and leave you like this. I can make you finish by yourself." Yuuji's fingers tighten in his hair as he stops stroking him, something dark flaring up in his eyes. Satoru's breathing stutters.

"I don't know," Yuuji says doubtfully. "It feels like you needed this more than me."

Satoru doesn't reply to the too-good observation, just simply fills his own mouth again with Yuuji's perfectly thick cock, the length just barely too much for him. He'd like to think he could get used to it over time if given the chance. Something tells him Yuuji would be more than willing to do this again.

The teen throws his head back to moan loudly as Satoru's nose presses into the pink hair around the base, and he preens at the volume of it. Satoru has this feral urge to go deeper, but it just isn't possible. He has his entire cock shoved into his mouth and throat, and there's no room regardless, but he shimmies his head anyways in a futile attempt. Yuuji really likes the side-to-side motions, hand sliding down to the back of his head to try and uselessly get deeper as well. 

"Fuck, Sensei," Yuuji desperately grits out as Satoru releases his cock to gasp wetly.

"Are you going to cum from this, Yuuji?" He asks, false disappointment dripping in his tone. He mouths up the side of his cock, hand stroking the head fast and harsh. "So quickly, too. We were just getting started - "

Yuuji grabs him by the jaw, the fingers wrapped in his hair at the back of his head yanking him down so his cock is forced back in. Satoru didn't have even a moment to process what was happening, much less time to breathe, before Yuuji's cock is blocking his airways and filling him up roughly. He claws at Yuuji's thigh and stomach at the harshness, eyes squeezing shut at the beautiful combination of pain and pleasure. 

The boy holds him down, his breathing loud and heavy above him, and Satoru sees bright colors bursting behind his closed eyelids. He can't breathe, his heart thundering in his ears now, and he's so full he feels like his jaw is going to break.

Satoru chokes wetly, and Yuuji releases his grip to let him pull back up for air. His gasp for breath is high-pitched and raggid, and when he tries to open his eyes his vision fucking spins, and a wanton moan rips out of his too-empty throat.

"Oh my god," Yuuji groans, voice cracking, and his hand leaves Satoru's jaw to stroke at his own cock furiously. Satoru opens his eyes blearily, realizing a few tears leaked out, and pants against Yuuji's thigh feverishly. 

"Unexpected of you, Yuuji," Satoru croaks out, gazing up at Yuuji, whose eyes are dark and desperate. "Watching me choke and cry on your cock is going to make you cum?" He watches with rapt attention as Yuuji gets himself off over his face, his own hand sneaking down to palm his cock over the towel. His eyes flutter shut. "Who knew you'd be as messed up as me?" 

Yuuji just groans, long and low, as his hand speeds up and twists at the red, swollen head. Satoru rubs at his tan thighs, leaning forward to lick at his balls, not wanting to be a bystander. Yuuji pets his hair as he sucks at them, repeatedly cursing under his breath, hips jerking up into his own fist. Satoru's lower face is dripping with his own spit, and he knows his mouth must be swollen, can feel the heat high on his cheeks, so he leans back again and blinks up at Yuuji.

"C'mon, Yuuji-kun," he purrs, the boy's glazed-over eyes meeting his. "Let me taste you."

"Fuck, fuck - " Yuuji yanks him forward by his hair, and Satoru sticks out his tongue without hesitation, eyes never leaving Yuuji's face so he can watch him fall apart.

A groan tears out of the teen, hand never slowing down, as hot cum spills onto Satoru's waiting tongue. He pitches forward more, lips wrapping around the head to ensure he keeps all of it where he wants it, and sucks, letting it pool in his mouth. 

He replaces Yuuji's hand with his, slow, firm strokes urging out every last drop he can get. Yuuji's thighs relax, his body slumping backward and catching himself clumsily with his hands.

Satoru hums in satisfaction, but his cock is aching between his spread legs, and his mouth is full of cum, so without much thinking, he rises to his feet with the help of Yuuji's knees as support and pushes the boy to lay back down on the bed.

Yuuji said he wanted him a little mean, after all. 

He straddles him, grabs his face between both hands, and dives down, kissing him roughly. Yuuji moans and, before the teen can think too hard about it, Satoru licks into his mouth. Yuuji's cum spills between their lips, hot and sticky, Satoru's tongue forcing it in deeper, and he feels the way Yuuji tenses, fingers gripping at his forearms as he breathes harshly out of his nose.

Satoru breaks the false kiss, peering down at Yuuji as he covers his mouth with one hand, the other sliding down to the front of his throat, a darkened mirror of what Satoru's done before.

"I got my taste, but I prefer it when you're the one swallowing," he says softly between them, Yuuji's eyes wide but just as dark as before. "So swallow."

It's degrading, it's gross, but Yuuji's eyes roll back and close with a muffled whine as he swallows obediently for him once again, shivering violently as Satoru pets at his throat as it works the cum down. It felt great to make him do this with Satoru's cum, but it's even better knowing it's Yuuji's.

"Such a good boy, swallowing your own cum just because I told you to," Satoru croons in his face. "How many more nasty things could I get you to do, baby?" Yuuji lets out a cry from behind his hand, and Satoru rips off his towel and tosses it aside. Yuuji's eyes flicker down to try and see all of him now that he's fully naked.

"Tell me, Yuuji," he whispers, removing his hand to stroke his cheek kindly, "which virginity do you want to lose first?"

Yuuji's mouth is agape, staring at him in bewilderment. "Which - huh?"

Satoru chuckles, sitting up. "I ask because I'm feeling particularly special after the night we had," he rocks back and perches himself so Yuuji's damp, softening dick rubs along the cleft of his ass. "So if you want to fuck someone for the first time, now is your chance."

Satoru sits atop Yuuji, gazing down at him with a comfortability that he shouldn't feel but knows he has earned. The boy's cheeks flush dark, eyes roaming every inch of his naked body he can see, and Satoru rocks back with intention, Yuuji's eyes shutting and fingers digging into Satoru's thighs. 

"You - I thought - That's - " Yuuji's head slams back into the mattress, brow furrowing in frustration at fumbling his words. It's cute.

"Aw, Yuuji, have I broken you?" Satoru asks, sickeningly sweet, hands trailing down his chest. "Now I'm concerned. It wouldn't be too difficult for you, would it? Do you think you could keep up with me?"

"Sensei, I thought you wanted to fuck me."

"I do," Satoru immediately confirms, tone pitched low. "Don't worry about that. Right now, I want to see what you've got in you. Your hesitation tells me it's not a lot." Yuuji's eyes snap open to glare at him, but its effect is lessened by his bright red cheeks. 

"I can keep up with you just fine," Yuuji bites out. "I'm just - I'm surprised. I never - I didn't think, well - "

Satoru hesitates now, leaning down slowly and cupping the boy's face gently, eyes serious. "Color."

Yuuji stops talking, but breathes out a shaky sigh, gaze softening to match his. "Green. Green, Sensei."

Satoru stares a moment longer before kissing him, slow and soft and real this time. Yuuji's mouth is warm and bitter, and he's sure his tastes far worse, but the boy kisses him back all the same. He moves out of it, stroking his cheeks.

"I want to," Yuuji pants against his mouth, eyes half-lidded and hands sliding up his thighs sinuously. "Of course I want to."

"Yeah?" He sighs, excited to finally be touched in some way. Fifteen days with no contact has made him crazier than he already was. He doesn't know how he got by without Yuuji before.

"Yeah. I hadn't even given it much thought, but like," Yuuji pauses, holding him by his waist now, "yeah, I'd like to fuck you, Sensei."

Satoru shivers at hearing him say it, words etched into his brain permanently to remember for the rest of his life. He closes his eyes, swaying forward to kiss him again with a little more heat, feeling his cock drool onto Yuuji's stomach.

"Do you want to learn how to prep me, or should I do it myself and let you watch?" Yuuji groans.

"That's the toughest question I think you have ever asked me," Yuuji whines, and Satoru laughs quietly, thrilled to hear it's a hard choice. "As hot as it would be to enjoy the show, please let me do it." 

Yuuji's hands squeeze his waist, and a breathy sound escapes Satoru, his heart racing with excitement. Yuuji's fingers are going to open him up so he can take his cock, and he can't wait to see how Yuuji does.

"Teach me, Sensei."

Chapter Text

hello there, beautiful readers.

well. i got an email saying i had a new comment on this fic. i was surprised, and curious. i didn't think anyone would even find this fic after so long. when i logged back into my ao3 account, i actually had 106 comments in my inbox... which is insane.

i read every single one of them. if you left a comment, i saw it, and i most likely got emotional.

to be blunt and to the point - no, i will not be updating this fic. i am so sorry to everyone who has been waiting since the start, who recently found this, who fell in love with it, who hoped for more... it is over, and i am very sorry.

i do not have the will to write anymore, and i haven't for a long time now (clearly). in past authors notes, i have talked about my medical issues. those issues have finally lead to a diagnosis - and it isn't great, to say the least. it has been a rough time, and it will continue to be rough.

all of my health issues since i was a child (since the moment i was born, really) make sense, and i am relieved to know the answer after my whole life searching and fighting for it. but it comes with the cost of knowing this is my life forever, and it won't get better. it will get worse, actually.

it's been hard coping with my new reality. the mental distress of knowing this is it, and knowing what's going to happen to me slowly over time. i can't stop it, or change it, so i am making do. i have been spending my time focusing on my health and doing what i can do to make my life a little easier and bearable. i have also been focusing on truly living and experiencing things i have always wanted to do while i can still handle doing them.

i am sorry to all of you that that has meant letting this story go.

thank you all for being here and for all the lovely, supportive comments. the compliments on my writing always get me emotional, and they mean the world to me. this fic was so special to me (and always will be, of course), and i am so happy that i ever made the choice to share this with all of you. i wish my past writing skills you guys praise me for would come to me right now so i could truly find the words for how grateful i am. i wish i could respond to each and every one of you that commented. i hope this will do.

jjk has a special place in my heart, and once again, thank you for enjoying my fic for what it was. i had a wonderful time writing it. i'm sorry things have to come to an end before they truly got to be finished.

thank you for the love and care in the comments. i don't even know if anyone will see this!!! but for those of you who do, i appreciate you, and thank you for wishing me the best and all of that. i will be as okay as i can be going forward in life! i'm sorry it took so long.

wishing peace and happiness to all of you.

much love,

gaynime <3