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Yuuji wakes with a start, throwing the blanket off him and glancing around the room in a panic. It’s dark, still the middle of the night. His heart pounds as he takes in the shadows of the trees projected against the wall, creeping and wavering eerily. It’s fine, he’s fine. There’s no one here. He takes a deep breath and tries to calm his racing heart.
But if there’s no one here...what woke him up?
“Boo,” someone says right by his ear, and Yuuji shrieks, windmilling his arms. Warm hands grab his biceps and force him down onto the mattress, and he’s straddled by thick thighs, effectively pinning him down at the waist. Red eyes glint down at him. “Hi, Yuuji,” Sukuna says. “Got a minute?”
Yuuji squirms in his grip. “Sukuna,” he says. “What are you doing in my room? I was sleeping! Get out!”
Sukuna hums. “Hmm….nah.” He muscles Yuuji’s arms down to pin them against his side, then pulls out a small box, brandishing it in front of him. “I’ve got a surprise for you,” he says.
“Huh?” Yuuji asks as Sukuna begins to open the box. “What are you talking about?”
Sukuna pauses and looks at him. Silently, he reaches over and flips the lightswitch on the lamp, bathing the both of them in dull yellow light. He opens the box the rest of the way, letting the lid clatter to the floor.
Yuuji’s eyes get wider and wider as Sukuna reveals the contents: a permanent marker, a roll of gauze, a pair of sterile, disposable gloves, a container of isopropyl alcohol, a tiny metal bar in a plastic bag. The final object he reveals is a thick, shiny hollow point needle that glints threateningly even in the low light.
“What the fuck, Sukuna,” he breathes, watching as Sukuna slips the gloves on.
Sukuna flexes his fingers, testing the stretch of the thin nitrile, and turns down to Yuuji with a wicked smile. “I think you’ve forgotten your place, haven’t you?”
“What?”
“You belong to me,” Sukuna says, popping open the cap on the isopropyl alcohol and pouring a generous amount onto the gauze. “I thought the tattoo would be enough, but apparently a whore like you needs another reminder. Something a bit more obvious.”
“Oh my god, Sukuna, please don’t pierce my dick,” Yuuji immediately wails.
Sukuna pauses, holding the dampened gauze in midair. “You know, I wasn’t planning on it, but if you’re going to beg so prettily….”
“Fuck, no, Sukuna, anything but that,” Yuuji babbles, trying to bring his hands up to cover his groin even though Sukuna’s thighs are pinning his wrists firmly to his thighs and Sukuna’s ass is positioned directly atop Yuuji’s crotch. All he manages to do is grind up against Sukuna.
Sukuna barks out a laugh. “Haha! Just kidding. Nah, I have something different planned for you tonight. I said something obvious, didn’t I?” He leans closer until he’s all that Yuuji can see, eyes stretched too wide in the dark, pupils blacker than black, forehead tattoo seeming to shift and blend into the sharper shadows. The needle in his hand looms closer and closer to Yuuji’s eyes, and he can’t bring himself to look away from the deadly point, sharpened and silver and gleaming—
“Nahh, I’m just playing around,” Sukuna says nonchalantly, pulling back and waving the needle in the air. “I’m not sticking any needles through your dick tonight. Or your eyes.” He pauses. “I mean, I’ve definitely thought about it. But I have something specific in mind for tonight. A centerpiece—the first thing people notice when they look at you.”
Yuuji swallows, his eyes still fixed on the needlepoint hovering above him.
Gently, Sukuna brings the alcohol-wettened gauze down to Yuuji’s face, cleaning off the sides of his nose. The fumes make Yuuji’s eyes redden and water, and he blinks furiously to clear away the tears threatening to form.
Sukuna sticks the shaft of the needle between his teeth and uncaps the permanent maker. He leans forward, his face casting shadows over Yuuji’s. “Stay still.”
As the tip of the marker comes closer and closer to Yuuji’s eyes, he turns his head to the side, trying to squirm away. “Hey, wait, not on the face either!”
Sukuna tsks. “Stay still, or it won’t come out even.” His words come out slightly slurred around the needle. He makes a dot on either side of the bridge of Yuuji’s nose, tilting his head from side to side to make sure that they’re even.
Yuuji bucks his hips up, trying to throw Sukuna off. “Fuck you! I don’t want you to pierce my fucking face!”
A harsh slap to the side of his face has him gasping into the mattress. His cheek fucking burns. Sukuna leans back, scowling down at Yuuji. He tosses the marker to the side and rips the needle out from between his teeth. “Shut the fuck up,” he says. “I own you, remember? I get to decide how to decorate you.”
Yuuji glares up at him. He can already feel the red imprint of Sukuna’s handprint outlining itself on his cheek. “I’m not a thing, ” he spits.
Sukuna smirks. “Aren’t you?” He runs a hand up under Yuuji’s shirt, rucking it up, revealing the lines of black ink sprawling over the V of his hips. Yuuji bites back a moan as Sukuna rubs his thumb hard into the upper corner of the tattoo, his hands warm even through the nitrile.
“I’m serious,” Sukuna says, pulling his hand out. He looms closer again. “Stay still, or this will go poorly.”
Yuuji swallows. “I’m still not sure this is a good idea—”
“Stop talking,” Sukuna says, and then he’s pinching Yuuji’s nose roughly, and Yuuji would take in a gasp of air but he’s so startled by the harsh movement that he forgets how to use his lungs at all. Sukuna’s gaze almost-but-not-quite meets his, boring instead into the space between Yuuji’s eyes. His brow is furrowed in concentration. There’s a brief prick of the needle against his skin, a moment of tension like a string about to snap—
A sharp, stabbing pain shoots out from the bridge of Yuuji’s nose, the sensation echoing through his eyes, cheeks, forehead. Immediately, he can feel blood start to trickle out of the wound, pooling in his tear ducts and running slowly down his face. He squeezes his eyes shut. Of fucking course leave it to Sukuna to make the biggest mess possible. “Christ!” He hisses. “Sukuna, you asshole! That fucking hurt!”
“Keep your eyes closed,” Sukuna says. “The needle’s pretty long. It’ll get your eyes if you open them.”
Yuuji can, in fact, feel the pressure of the metal rod against his eyelashes. The memory of its sharpness flashes in his mind, and he decides to take Sukuna’s advice for once, and forces himself to stay as still as he can.
There’s a crinkling of plastic, and then Sukuna’s gloved fingers press against the side of his nose again. He feels a weird sliding sensation as the needle moves, and then the press of something metal against the other side of his bridge. “Keep them closed,” Sukuna says, resting the side of his hand against Yuuji’s cheek as he fiddles with something right above his eye. Yuuji tries desperately not to twitch. “Open.”
He opens his eyes, immediately blinking several times to clear the blood pooled in his cornea. The bridge of his nose feels swollen and achy. Sukuna hovers above him, blurry and red-tinged.
Sukuna strokes the side of his face gently, then wipes up some of the blood that’s spilled down the side of Yuuji’s face. He holds his hand up, admiring the dribbles of red over the folds of the powder-blue nitrile, and glances down at Yuuji as he licks Yuuji’s blood off his fingers. Yuuji’s eyes are trained on his tongue as he chases after the beads of blood. “You’re delicious,” he says.
Yuuji bites his lip. “You’re seriously messed up.”
“You’re the one who likes it,” Sukuna says, and grabs Yuuji’s face in both hands, pulling him closer. The movement jiggles loose a single drop of blood that trails hot down Yuuji’s cheek. Sukuna’s tongue darts out to lick it up, following its path up his cheekbone before pushing into his tear duct.
Finally, Yuuji yanks his hands free from the press of Sukuna’s knees. He grabs the back of Sukuna’s hair, yanking his head back. “What the hell!” he yells. “What’s wrong with you?”
Sukuna bares his blood-tinged teeth at him. “But you taste so good, Yuuji.”
“That’s so fucking unsanitary!” He gives Sukuna a rough shake, like he’s scruffing a dog. “What are you gonna do when I get an infection, huh?”
Sukuna smirks at him, slow and lazy despite the painful hold Yuuji has on him. “Nurse you back to health, of course.”
Yuuji rolls his eyes. “Yeah, all you need is the slutty nurse getup.”
“There’s an idea,” Sukuna says. “Hey, you wanna see it?”
“What, your slutty nurse outfit?”
“Your piercing, dumbass.”
“Oh,” says Yuuji. “Uh. Yeah. Sure.”
“C’mon,” Sukuna says, and rolls off him, gathering up the piercing supplies and placing them back in the box he brought in. He’s only wearing thin pajama pants, and Yuuji can see the outline of his half-hard dick as he strides towards the bathroom. Slowly, he slides his way out of the bed and pads after Sukuna.
Yuuji shuffles into the bathroom. It’s dark; Sukuna didn’t bother to turn on anything but the nightlight. By now, either of them could patch up their wounds in complete darkness.
Sukuna tugs him forward by the wrist until their faces are only inches apart. Carefully, he dabs the remaining blood off Yuuji’s face. “Close ‘em,” he says, and Yuuji barely manages to close his eyes before Sukuna’s spraying the piercing with something cold and wet. He pats the skin around the piercing dry. “I got some saline solution for you,” he says. “It’s in the cabinet.”
“Thanks,” Yuuji says, his voice cracking on a yawn. Sukuna smiles, surging forward to press their lips together. Yuuji melts into the kiss, opening his mouth wide and letting Sukuna lick inside him. He tastes like plastic and blood. Sukuna’s hands cup his face, and their too-smooth texture makes Yuuji jump a little. “Why are you still wearing the gloves?”
Sukuna glances at his hands cradling Yuuji’s face, then looks away as he pulls back and strips them off. “I forgot I had them on,” he says shortly, but Yuuji can see the flush rising on his cheeks, can still feel the half-chub pressing against him.
He lets out a giggle that turns into an undignified snort. “Sukuna, do you have a glove kink?”
“They’re important for sanitation,” Sukuna snaps, throwing them in the trashcan. “You were the one who was all like ‘ohh noooo, Sukuna, don’t give me an infection, I don’t want it!’”
“Yeah, you weren’t wearing gloves on your tongue when you licked me, though!” Yuuji protests.
Sukuna rolls his eyes, his cheeks still pink, and shoves at Yuuji’s shoulders until he turns to face the mirror. “Whatever,” he says. “What do you think?”
Yuuji accepts the obvious change of subject and leans forward, examining his reflection. His usually-messy hair is even worse than usual, and there’s still a little blood crusting in his waterline. The bridge of his nose is adorned with two silver balls that glint as he tilts his head back and forth. He pokes at them and immediately yanks his hand back, hissing.
“It’s going to take a couple months to heal, dumbass,” Sukuna says, draping himself over Yuuji, winding his arms around his waist. “Don’t fuck with it.”
“It looks good,” Yuuji says. He’s surprised, honestly. He hadn’t expected the piercing to actually suit him, but it does, highlighting the symmetry in his face.
“It looks sexy as hell,” Sukuna says, resting his head on Yuuji’s shoulder. Like this, their differences are only highlighted—Sukuna’s been adding tattoos to his face since he was nineteen, whereas Yuuji’s point-blank refused to get anything above the collar. Yuuji’s hair is longer, and falls in his eyes, whereas Sukuna’s sticks up persistently no matter what he does. But the shape of their eyes and the angles of their jaws are the same, a perfect mimicry.
“If this rejects, I’ll kill you,” Yuuji mutters, leaning back against Sukuna’s firm chest. “I thought you were going to do my ear or something.”
Sukuna kisses his temple. “How about I let you do my next piercing? Just a little something in the cartilage.”
“Mmm, but I want us to match,” Yuuji says, tilting his head back to capture Sukuna’s lips in a filthy kiss. Sukuna groans into his mouth, one hand coming up to grope at Yuuji’s chest. The other dips under Yuuji’s waistband, slipping over his dick with unerring precision and stroking him to full hardness between his index and thumb. Yuuji grins, bucking his hips forward into Sukuna’s hand.
Sukuna grinds into his ass, timing his thrusts with his strokes on Yuuji’s cock. “Fucking slut,” he says, biting at Yuuji’s neck. He slows his thrusts, glancing up so that their eyes meet in the mirror. “You want us to match? My jewelry on you isn’t enough? Maybe I should get you a nice thick collar, since you want everybody to know who owns you.”
Yuuji bites his lip, letting his head fall back on Sukuna’s shoulder. “Fuck, Sukuna…”
“Yeah?” Sukuna says. “You like that idea?”
“Yeah,” Yuuji says. “I like the gloves too. You should wear them next time you finger me open.”
Sukuna groans, his hips stuttering against Yuuji’s ass. “F-fuck, that’s hot,” he says, barely managing to play off the stutter.
“Haaa, glove kink,” Yuuji says, and Sukuna growls in response, pushing his thumb hard against Yuuji’s cock and jerking him off fast and hard.
“Don’t mock me or you’ll regret it, brat,” Sukuna murmurs in his ear. The timbre of his voice sends shivers down Yuuji’s spine, and he reaches behind him blindly, pulling Sukuna closer to him with a palm on his ass.
“Sukuna, I’m close,” Yuuji pants, and Sukuna, for once, keeps going at the same delicious pace. Yuuji comes with a long, drawn-out moan, thighs shaking as Sukuna’s fingers keep moving, turning his legs turn to jelly. “F-fuck…” he whimpers, slumping back and letting his twin take the brunt of his weight.
Sukuna keeps grinding his hips against Yuuji’s ass, shifting his limp body to get a better angle. His hand keeps moving on Yuuji’s cock until Yuuji whines from the overstimulation. “Sukuna, ‘s too much.”
In response, Sukuna bites at Yuuji’s shoulder again, hard. “Lemme fuck your thighs,” he says.
“Mmm,” Yuuji grumbles, not agreeing or disagreeing, and Sukuna’s hands wander back to the waistband of Yuuji’s pajama pants, pulling them down to mid thigh. Sukuna pulls back for a minute. There’s the telltale sound of a belt buckle jingling, and then a minute later, the thump of denim hitting the floor. Sukuna kicks his hands and underwear off somewhere and lines himself back up against Yuuji, his hands warm on Yuuji’s hips. He slides his dick in between Yuuji’s thighs, the head catching briefly on his entrance. They both bite back a moan. Sukuna slides onward, rubbing the now-slick head of his cock against Yuuji’s, working his hips in smooth, deep thrusts. The whole time, his mouth is working on Yuuji’s neck, biting and sucking, leaving deep hickies that Yuuji knows from experience will take weeks to heal. “Tighten,” Sukuna says, and Yuuji pulls his legs closer together, closing his eyes and letting the hot press of Sukuna’s cock between his thighs and against his cunt distract him from how many high-collared shirts he’s going to have to wear next week.
Sukuna’s grip on his hips gets tighter, and he begins thrusting a little faster. “Yuuji,” he says, muffled into Yuuji’s skin.
“Sukuna,” Yuuji says in response.
Sukuna glances back up in the mirror and notices that Yuuji’s eyes are screwed shut. That won’t do. He relinquishes his hold on one hip and grasps Yuuji’s chin, turning his head so that they make eye contact in the mirror again. “Look at us, brat,” he purrs.
Yuuji moans at the obscene image the mirror displays, both of their faces flushed, Sukuna’s wicked smirk next to Yuuji’s panting, open mouth. Sukuna’s hand pressing tightly against his throat, the other grasping his hip hard enough to bruise. The head of Sukuna’s cock disappearing and reappearing between his thighs. Sukuna’s holding him up entirely, Yuuji leaning most of his weight against his twin’s chest.
A trickle of blood slips out of the fresh piercing, sliding down the side of his nose, catching on the curve of his nostril. It looks black in the dark light. “Fuck,” Sukuna groans, and spills between his thighs. Yuuji lets him rut through the aftershocks before grabbing the roll of toilet paper and wiping up the cum running down his thighs.
“You look good with blood on you, brat,” Sukuna says. He pulls Yuuji around and licks up the trail of blood, then forces his tongue into Yuuji’s mouth, pushing the coppery taste over his lips.
Yuuji pulls back and grins at him, sharp and feral, still dabbing at drops of white that have rolled almost to his knees. “I know,” he says, stepping out of his pajama pants. “Sleep in my room tonight?”
“Duh,” Sukuna says, and pushes him, pantsless, to the bed.