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Gojo fumbled with his keys to the rundown apartment he'd kept just for this secret affair, his heartbeat racing with each second.
If he weren't feeling sick, he'd be lying.
The large man behind him making his nerves impossibly hot. Searing, even.
Alcohol definitely not helping his case, he pushed the red door open with a hardly graceful shove.
Shuffling, they tumbled in after eachother.
Gojo immediately began removing articles of clothing, chasing a release his body couldn't stand to bargain for.
Soon enough Toji lowered his muscular frame over the skinny man as he had done so many times before.
Same stone cold expression digging into his heart with dagger-like thorns.
"Hey big guy~" Gojo looked through lashes into emerald green eyes while seductively biting his lip, letting dainty fingers travel downwards.
Elbows digging deep into sharp springs, thighs lifting upwards, buds of thumbs pulling down the last piece of restricting fabric.
The bittersweet warmth of the whiskey heating his pale rosy cheeks.
The heavens above were definitely gonna give him hell for this and yet, Toji was still silent as always.
Gojo pushed his miserable gut feeling to the back of his mind and focused on being as desirable as possible.
Batting silky white eyelashes and giggling like he had never been hurt before.
As if he'd never cried. Never pleaded for that heartless man to stay.
As if his chest didn't feel like a fucking pit.
It didn't take them long to fall back into that same routine. With static in his ears, Gojo pressed kisses to a scarred lip as that man bruised his hips with rough hands.
Soaking in and loving every second he could get of Toji's somewhat affection that he truly believed was hidden behind the undying stoicism.
Butterflies still swirled in his stomach just the same as they did when they had first met.
Those same butterflies were turning into moths shredding his what little he had inside.
Ripping giant holes in what used to be sweet, pretty, and pure innocence.
Endless swarms of maggots pouring out the inseams.
Toji never failed to cork up every new hole.
Just like always.
Little keening moans would escape Gojo's powder pink lips with each new rip and tear.
Those rough hands pulling his thin white hair so hard it felt as if his scalp was going to rip.
He'd take it.
He'd take it all just to keep this.
Even with the ridged nails digging so deep into his throat they'd become a rusty burgundy.
Even with tears brimming on his eyelashes he'd offer every ounce of himself to that wretched man.
For what reason, even he didn't know.
He just wanted to be loved.
--
"Hey uh...you're really not gonna leave this time, right? You promised." Gojo whispered silently as their backs faced eachother on that cheap shithole of a bed they'd just done it on for the millionth time.
His small hands clasped under his cheek in what could only be a desperate prayer.
"Mm" and a single shrug was his only response.
"Alright." Gojo smiled a tight lipped smile and squeezed his burning eyes tight with furrowed brows.
Next thing he knew he'd wake up in a cold stale bed.
No sheets, no cash, and of course, as always; no Toji.
Gojo tried to makeshift bottle up the inevitable flood gates.
"Goddamnit you son of a bitch-" was all he could choke up before he crumbled into pieces.
He slammed his fists into the bed and broke into a sob, folding his weak body into itself as much as he could manage.
Digging delicate nails into reddening flesh, he clawed in his thin arms.
As if he were trying to reopen previous scars.
As if he were trying to fight pain with pain.
Taking a sickeningly deep and seething breath he wanted so badly to just scream until his vocal chords were ripped from his throat.
A chuckle passed though his lips "I'm seriously so fucking pathetic!"
Unfurling his beaten and battered lanky body across the entirety of their shared bed sprawling on top of the mess they'd both made.
Those once bright pretty blue eyes dulled and rolled back.
Scleras ignited red.
Laying there, he swiped some booze off the hardwood floor and weakly took a few swigs.
Each sip feeling like burning ash, all hot and prickly.
A few more stray tears spilled down his cheeks as bile pressured and threatened to choke him.
He honestly felt like he was drowning as the liquid poured into his nostrils.
Because in the end, maybe he really was.