Archive of Our Own

Megumi notices it for the first time when he’s eight. A hot summer with no AC in he and Tsumiki’s little apartment; it would be a couple years yet when they would finally accept an expensive unit from Gojo.

He’s doing his school work at the table by the open balcony door, a towel around his neck to keep the sweat from falling onto his paper. His sister is out with their neighbor, a sweet older woman that’s been teaching the both of them to cook simple meals because she knows that they’re all by themselves for the most part. It’s nice to have someone like that, a reliable adult being quietly kind to them.

Then, there’s someone like the giant fool on the floor next to him. An adult only in legal age that has the maturity of a child half Megumi’s age.

Gojo had come over earlier in the day, claiming to be checking up on them while slipping the little cat wallet to Tsumiki for her to take what they needed for the month. In reality, Gojo fell asleep as soon as he realized that Megumi wasn’t going to entertain him in favor of his school work.

Megumi drops his pencil, he’s irritated from the heat, from how hard it is to focus on his math homework, and by the man next to him. He’s been sleeping soundly for about an hour, softly snoring with his head against Megumi's knee. He’s never shown any kind of personal space with him and Megumi doesn’t know why he clings to him so much.

He looks down, annoyed at how peaceful he looks with his glasses off and long white lashes over his cheeks that are slightly red from the heat. It was an innocent thing for him at the time, he’s just a child after all, as he reaches one small hand down with the towel and wipes a bead of sweat on Gojo’s temple before it can make its way down and into his fluffy hair.

Gojo doesn't stir even a little, and Megumi thinks that's a little weird, half expecting him to jump and tackle him and make fun of him for doing something polite. He’s much more curious now to see what it will take to wake him up than in his homework, so he snaps the workbook shut a little louder than he normally would. Still nothing.

Megumi drops his pencil on the table from about a foot up, so it clatters loudly in the silent room. Nothing again, Gojo’s breathing doesn’t even change a little. Not a twitch in his serene face.

He has to be faking, Megumi thinks, because there's no way that someone like Gojo could sleep through anything like that. He doesn’t really understand the extent of Gojo's power, but even he’s noticed how aware of every little thing Gojo is. Birds overhead, the changes in pressure from the weather, even a falling leaf or petal. Nothing seems to go unnoticed. He’s practically superhuman, and it seems familiar to him somehow.

That familiarity gets under his skin, makes him itch. He decides to be a little meaner, if Gojo is going to pretend he’s asleep to mess with him, it's only fair that Megumi gets some of his own childish payback for all the teasing he’s subjected to. He reaches his finger out and pokes the last of the baby fat on Gojo's cheek, not enough to hurt, but more than enough pressure that most people would at least scrunch their face up in their sleep.

When that does nothing he lightly pinches, but Gojo just sighs and turns into his hand. It embarrasses him for some reason, so he pulls back and stares down at him.

“Gojo, are you faking?” His voice is soft but it sounds so loud, the breeze outside has even stopped. Gojo just keeps breathing evenly, cheek pressed to Megumi’s bare sweaty knee, nearly nuzzling. He feels embarrassed again, but he never gets the chance to examine the strange feeling because Tsumiki comes home. He looks towards the entryway, nervous at the sound of the door opening until he hears his sister’s voice thanking the neighbor.

He’s startled again when Gojo lets out a loud, obnoxious exaggerated yawn and flips onto his stomach, snatching Megumi’s small body and laying his heavy arms around his middle. Gojo’s body always swallows him with its size, towering over him like an unreachable monolith as they spar. A height that Megumi would never think he could come close to touching, but must be able to, with the way Gojo pushes him.

“How long did I sleep for Megumi? I feel so rested after my safely guarded nap!” Then Megumi is struggling against him, annoyed at his usual clinginess and even more so when Tsumiki comes into the room and teases them about getting along when she’s gone. Though he struggles, it feels right to be held. The first time Megumi has ever felt as safe when an adult's hands are on him.

They have dinner like normal after, when Gojo is there, but Megumi doesn't really listen to anything they’re saying. For some reason, all he can think about is what Gojo said.

‘Safely guarded.’ He doesn’t know why, but he feels like it’s important.

_________

He notices it the second time when Gojo shows up to his apartment on Christmas night. He’s just turned fifteen. Megumi was on the balcony, leaning on the railing and letting the cold air run through his hair while he tries to think of anything but his sister or how Gojo was apparently missing, when the wind shifts and he’s standing there next to him like a solid breeze blowing in.

He was already worried and riddled with guilt about not being able to help with the mission, suspicious that it was far more serious than Gojo let on in the first place. His silence only confirms it.

Megumi turns to face him, tilts his head and wets his lips. There’s something very wrong with him, he can tell from the way Gojo hasn’t said anything, how his lips are in a thin line, harshly pressed together. His large shoulders sag and he looks like he may fall any minute. The bottom edges of the bandages over his eyes are wet and starting to wrinkle with the moisture.

They stand there in silence for several minutes, then Gojo takes one shaky step towards him, something like a whine comes out of his mouth. It's a soft, weak and pathetic little thing, like a scared animal. He’s asking for help.

Megumi doesn’t know how he’s supposed to comfort someone, especially this. Ieiri had only told him over the phone that Gojo had to kill his friend. Her friend, too.

So he just does what seems right, he steps forward, meets him in the middle and wraps his arms around him. Gojo sags right into him, laying his heavy cheek on the top of Megumi’s head and sniffling.

“Let’s go in.” It’s tricky to lead Gojo inside and shut the balcony behind them while supporting most of his weight. He’s a monstrously large man, but right now he seems small despite how he towers over him. Megumi leads him to the bathroom because he’s covered in blood, in day old clothes, and smells like salt all over.

He sits him down on the stool by the tub and only hesitates for a moment before he starts to undo his jacket. Gojo doesn’t fight him as Megumi takes off his clothes piece by piece, helping where he has to but otherwise loose limbed and quiet, so quiet. It’s not exactly sexual, but it's not clinical either, the way he softly pulls the dirty clothes from him to show pale white skin. It’s intimate, a more tender moment than Megumi has ever been a part of.

The blindfold is the last thing Megumi takes off, because it feels like the most significant. Gojo looks more naked without it, raw like an open sore. Megumi only glances at his eyes for a moment. It twists his heart in an alien way to see that the normally mesmerizing light that always emanates from them is gone, leaving them a clear gray like a still, overcast sky at sea; puffy and red rimmed with clumped lashes.

He washes him tenderly, shampooing his hair and lightly scratching his scalp with his blunt nails. Carefully washes each arm and leg up and down and even between his fingers and toes. The only thing he can do, can offer, is to erase the physical signs of the last two days. Maybe his touch will ease the mental residuals, but he’s probably being conceited about the power he holds, here.

Megumi gently wraps Gojo’s hand around a separate wash cloth, leads it to his groin then lets him go to continue washing his back, even though all he’s doing is gently rubbing the soap in with his hands at this point. The large, hard muscles are incredibly tense, but slowly they relax until Gojo is leaning so far over that Megumi has to reach over that huge chest and pull him back up a bit.

Gojo has made no move to do anything with the cloth in his hand, just gingerly holding it with the slightest curl of his fingers at the apex of his groin and thigh. Megumi hesitates again, because right now in front of him is a broken little thing that will let him do whatever he wants, because Gojo doesn’t care what happens to himself right now.

He reaches for the cloth and Gojo lets it go easily.

“Should I?” His voice is slightly hoarse but he keeps it soft to not spook him. Gojo just nods, eyelids fluttering closed. Megumi washes the sensitive flesh carefully and doesn’t linger; does not say or do anything about the way it stiffens just a little bit. He’ll think about it later.

He towels Gojo off with the same tenderness, dries his hair with the blower and urges him to stand again. It's hard and his knees nearly give out, but Megumi catches him, lets him lean his still slightly damp naked body on his.

“I've got you, I have you.” He whispers, again and again for good measure. Gojo is warm now, Megumi hadn’t realized he was colder than usual before. Megumi has no clothes big enough for Gojo here, so he just eases the man down onto the futon naked, strips himself entirely because his clothes got wet washing him, and lies down too.

He fusses with the blankets over them, starts to pull Gojo closer, but he moves on his own this time, turning onto his side and laying that big head on Megumi’s chest. Megumi’s heart hammers in his chest, but he still reaches to tangle his fingers in Gojo’s hair, his other hand traces gentle patterns over his upper arm and shoulder where they lie heavy over him, squeezing.

He can feel Gojo’s tears start to fall on his chest, shudders with him with every shaky inhale and exhale.

“Will I feel normal again?” Gojo asks. He sounds like a child, uncertain and full of fear. Megumi knows why he’s asking him that, because of Tsukimi, because Megumi has lost nearly every thing he’s ever been given and came to love. Except him, he hasn't lost him yet.

“Of course.” Megumi kisses his forehead, thumbs away his tears and brings it to his own lips.

“Of course.” His tongue darts out, bitter sweet.

Gojo falls asleep quickly and soundly like usual, but from exhaustion. Megumi holds him through every even breath, focusing on matching his own breathing to the rhythm. The shadows in the room dip into every rounded hard edge of his muscled shoulder and arm where they’re exposed from the blanket. Megumi stares as he watches his own delicate fingers trace the contours.

There's a dark feeling in his gut blossoming; something born of love and care but raised with longing and possession. With how they are now, Gojo is not the strongest sorcerer. He’s a weak thing made of salty tears and puffy eyelids, pouted lips and rounded shoulders.

He belongs to Megumi, it’s why he came to him, because they both know that Megumi’s willingness to always be there isn’t complacency. Megumi owns him in a way that only one other person has come close to. He isn’t happy Gojo killed his friend, it wasn't that kind of jealousy.

He lightly tugs at a lock of the man’s hair, watches the silky strands grow taut in his fingers. Gojo doesn’t stir because his body and soul know who’s touching him.

“You won’t have to do that again.” He promises at a normal volume, because Gojo won’t wake up until he’s ready in the morning no matter what Megumi says or does.

Megumi cares for Gojo the same way for nearly a week, feeding him by hand and washing him everyday, holding him close until one day Gojo wakes up close to himself again. He isn't exactly disappointed to see the light start to return to his soul, because he knows who put it there. He did this. No, but he does feel a loss when Gojo leans up on his elbows and looks right into his eyes, like he’ll say something that will change everything.

Megumi pulls his head towards him, lets his lips linger on his forehead, cheeks, eyelids and finally a ghost of a thing over his lips, only enough to tingle.

“Not yet, it’s not time.” Is all he says. He has no idea what he means, and maybe Gojo doesn't either but he nods all the same with a special, private smile that Megumi knows is only for him.

_____

They spend the next four years dancing, it feels like it anyway. Fleeting looks and touches in public. Everyone notices their game, but few mention it. It’s what they've always been, a dynamic painstakingly built with non verbal cues. Still, Megumi has added his own little secret part to their relationship.

A habit that’s gotten out of hand as of late. He’s become greedy with it, with the rush of power it gives him to be the only one to see Gojo at his most vulnerable.

He often sleeps in Megumi's room, or finds a reason for Megumi to be in his, at the school or his own private apartment. Sometimes at hotels when they go on long missions. They spend their evenings as usual, with bickering and a calm domesticity that only two people that know each other almost completely can manage.

When it’s time for bed, though, Gojo drops all his pomp and circumstance and starts to melt. He goes soft and meek when Megumi leads him to the bed where they undress down to their underwear and lie inside the covers as one beast with too many limbs. A spider with equal arms and legs shared, the only imbalance is the eyes where Gojo brings six of them.

It’s when Gojo falls asleep that Megumi provides his share. The web he makes around them to keep them as one.

He’s always touching Gojo as he sleeps. At first it was always carefully and never straying from the parts of him he could get away with if he ever woke up. Then, when it became a cemented fact that Gojo wouldn't wake up, that surely he was setting himself up like this because why else would he be here, he did more. So Megumi pushed forward, trailing calloused fingers down over the strong ripples of abdominal muscle to rub over the fine white hairs starting at his navel until they started to curl longer.

The first time he went that far, Megumi only traced his finger around the base of Gojos' dick. Felt it kick and twitch at the attention, but he went no further. It was enough that night, enough to make him hot and sweaty and his mouth to go dry. His own cock rock solid and pressing into Gojo’s hip, the tip leaving a sticky spot on his beautiful skin. He didn’t touch himself, just let his dick stay hard until he eventually fell asleep, too, because the anticipation of taking advantage was more heady than the orgasm he could give himself.

He progresses slowly, sometimes weeks going by with many chances in between before he does more, pushes the boundary farther. He gives himself time to wrap his head around each action, rationalizing until there's no longer any hesitancy.

Megumi remembers the first time he really goes for it fondly, how he waits for Gojo to enter that deep sleep he lets himself fall into so quickly around Megumi. He watches him for nearly an hour, lightly stroking his bare chest while he lays propped up on an elbow facing him. He's so pretty, the strong jaw lax in the dark and no signs of the last remnants of baby fat that Megumi first touched as a child.

He lets himself get worked up and excited, breath coming just a little faster as his lips part to take more into his greedy lungs while he uses his greedy eyes to stare for as long as he wants. Then his hand slips lower under the blanket, pinky just sweeping under the waistband of Gojo’s underwear. His stomach muscles flutter with the ticklish touch, but he doesn't wake up. Of course he doesn't, he knows he's safe here with Megumi even in his sleep, trusts that Megumi knows what he needs at all times. And Megumi does know, proves it by pushing Gojo’s underwear down inch by inch until it bunches at the top of his thighs.

He pushes the blanket down too, sharp green eyes practically glowing in the dark as he looks down and lets himself finally get a good look at Gojo’s cock for the first time. Even soft it’s sizable, something you’d be tempted to do a double take at at a urinal. Megumi’s been tempted, but always held himself back, knowing he’d have his chance to look his fill.

Gojo keeps his pubic hair neat and short, Megumi twirls one of the longer curls over the tip of his index finger. This hair is just as soft here as it is everywhere else on him. His pulse pounds and he swallows thickly as he finally lets his fingers close around his silky shaft and squeezes just a little, over and over again until he can feel the skin grow warmer and firmer.

He plays with Gojo like that for several minutes, working him up to half hard slowly and gently because he's always tender with him. He wants Gojo’s body to always know he’ll treat it properly. He turns to look at Gojo’s face again and squirms, noticing how his cheeks have turned a lovely shade of red. He dips his head down to softly kiss his cheek, pleased with how good he’s being, so patient as he lets Megumi have his fun. Of course he is, because Gojo is only ever good for him. Megumi is the only one who can influence his actions with a single disapproving look or an exasperated nod of his head.

Speaking of, Megumi looks back down to see the head of Gojo’s cock starting to peek out of the soft folds of his foreskin. It's already shiny and a little wet; he hums, pleased. He’s glad it feels good for him, but he wants to make him cum tonight. Even Megumi isn't cruel enough to get him hard and leaking and leave him like that, and Gojo has been so good for him recently, staying at Megumi's own apartment he got when he graduated most nights. He deserves this reward, this rest.

So Megumi sits up and reaches for the lube, barely being quiet about it because it's fine, Gojo is having too good of a time to wake up to such little noises, then sits at his side cross legged, pressed up against him as much as he can so he has a full view of everything he wants to see and better leverage. He warms the lube in his hand thoroughly, because he's only ever so sweet for him, then takes a firmer hold of him.

Gojo is fully hard and straining in Megumi's hand after just a handful of quick, slick jerks. His own dick is tenting his too-large boxers that he wore on purpose to be more comfortable, but he doesn't touch himself, not really. Just adjusts so he can leak against his own hip this time. This is about Gojo now.

He’s even more beautiful now, red from his ears down to his nipples, blotchy red spreading out over his broad chest like blood spreading in water. Megumi's toes curl, he’s really spoiled for choice right now. A visual feast and he’s so, so hungry for it. He gasps when Gojo’s dick kicks in his hand, a healthy ooze of precum spilling over the top and dropping hot on his hand. He jerks him in long, firm pulls, slow and deliberate to milk more of it out of him.

Gojo doesn't disappoint him, he’s getting obscenely wet for him, hips twitching every time Megumi's fist closes just right over the tip then slowly back down so he can see the entire crown. He’s big, bigger than Megumi even thought, big enough that he can stack both his hands around it and still see the bulbous head over the top of his knuckles fully. For a moment he has to sit and just breathe, stroking him only a little so he doesn't miss him getting close with all the images taking up his head.

He thinks of that fat cock in his mouth, stretching out his lips and jaw until they're sore, wonders how much of it he can cram into his throat until he can't breathe. He thinks of straddling him and swallowing it up in his ass, rocking and grinding around the impossible stretch of him. Megumi is dizzy with it, he feels like he’ll cum just thinking about it, and he just might.

He returns his attention to Gojo’s dick, in the flesh this time, and starts jerking him good and fast, leans forward to see how his balls, which look so full and heavy, start to draw up as his scrotum tightens. He’s high off the feeling that yes, he’s making Gojo feel this good. There's no way that anyone else in this world, even Gojo himself, can make him feel like this.

He jerks his eyes back to his face when he hears a little whimper, sees Gojo’s mouth open and watches his chest start to heave. He’s going to cum soon, Megumi can feel it in the thick throbbing veins in his hand and by how hot his dick is. Then Gojo does cum, his body and all those deliciously beautiful muscles tighten as his breath stutters, choking on a moan, and he spurts hot over Megumi's hand.

Megumi jerks him hard and fast through it, leaning forward to catch the last strong gush of cum against his tongue. There's so much of it and it tastes out of this world. He’s breathing so hard he’s starting to feel light headed.

Then he jerks hard in his underwear, cums harder than he ever has and he hasn't even touched himself. The noise he makes is a whisper of a whine, choking him as he keeps his lips shut to savor the seed in his mouth, working it around with his tongue to taste it as thoroughly as he can. It’s thicker than he would think, he wonders if Gojo doesn't touch himself too much.

He strokes him one, two, three more times, just to linger, just to draw it out, then lets him go, watching his big dick stay standing for the time being. He needs to clean him up, clean himself up, but he’s too loose limbed and loopy to care about it this second. Megumi sags against his side, his face hot, so hot, and kisses over Gojo’s cheeks, his eyelids, but not his lips.

“Good boy, so good. Did you feel good?” He whispers, almost manic in his happiness; crazed. The endorphins racing around his blood and through his heart, shooting a live wire into his brain, are making him feel all mushy inside. He loves Gojo, really, really loves him, and it feels so rewarding to do something like this for him. To return even a facsimile amount of the pleasure he brings Megumi every day by just being around him.

He lays against him for a while, his eyes closed and letting their heartbeats slow together. Eventually, though, he notices how sticky he feels, which means Gojo does too, and he doesn't want him to get cold either with most of his body exposed from the blankets.

Megumi gets up slowly, lingering with his hands and lips even as he slips his legs from the bed and puts his feet on the floor. He gets a warm damp rag and wipes Gojo off first before tending to himself, but as soon as they are both clean and he’s pulled Gojo’s underwear back up, he slips back under the covers and pulls him close again.

Gojo obediently goes where Megumi manhandles him, even nuzzling into Megumi's chest when he gets his large body over him how he wants. He lays the blankets over him carefully, then presses one last kiss to his head, smelling his hair indulgently. He can't wait to do this again, just the thought makes him curl his toes in delight.

____

Megumi is more bold after that night, jerking Gojo off several more times in the next two months. The difference it makes in Gojo’s mood and energy levels is immediate. He looks less tired, he even seems stronger and it's rare for him to have a day where his mood seems a little off.

Megumi practically beams with pride when Yuji and Nobora bring it up on one of their get-togethers for lunch.

“It’s crazy, well he’s crazy, more than usual. I didn't think he could even get more energetic. I mean he’s thirty-two!” Nobora gripes, taking a vicious bite out of some jerky like skewer she’s loaded her plate with. “He even looks younger lately, can't imagine what kind of expensive skin care products he uses.”

“Isn’t it a good thing? He seemed kind of down a few months ago.” Yuji chimes in, finishing what has to be his fourth plate by now. He swallows then gives Megumi a sort of shy look, the look that says he's about to say or ask something a little intrusive, even though they've been friends for years now.

“Do you know why, Megumi?” Nobora nearly chokes on her mouthful, giving Yuji a powerful side eye.

Megumi tilts his head, his smile small and pensive as he hums and feigns thinking. “Me? Not that I know of, I think he’s just been sleeping better.”

Yuji and Nobora just nod, knowing better than to push, and quickly change subject to their missions and Yuji’s upcoming overseas trip for training. He knows what they’re thinking, that he and Gojo are finally dating or something.

When Megumi thinks about it, it’s not that far from the truth. They may as well be, now nearly spending every night together that they’re free, having dinner, spending their mutual off days lounging or going out together. He’s honestly impressed at everyone's discretion that he hasn't been asked more about the situation. But no, Megumi wouldn't really call what they're doing now dating.

Maybe soon, when they're done with this game that he knows they both like so much, but for now Megumi is patient and content at the pace they're going. It's enough now to know Gojo is his.

However, there is one more line Megumi intends to cross, and as luck would have it, Gojo plops the opportunity right in his lap when his phone pings on the table.

He puts down his chopsticks and daintily wipes his hands, seeing the name pop up on his screen, he’d changed it to Satoru instead of Gojo sensei just over a year ago.

‘Just got back from Kyoto!!!! Very ugly curse this time, kind of like an old man bending over with the smell to match. UGH EW EW EW.’

‘Want to go to the movies tomorrow? I’m going to stay in tonight but I'll pick you up in the morning for a tasty brunch~~~~’

Megumi purses his lips, heart instantly accelerating. As much as he dislikes that Gojo hasn't instantly assumed that they'll be sleeping together tonight, he's beyond thrilled for the chance to test just how far this security around him that Gojo has, goes.

‘Sounds fun, what movie?’

“Hey Megumi, want to go drinking with us tonight? Choso said he found a nice place that wont kick us out for being loud!” Yuji is practically bouncing in his seat, so excited that Megumi nearly feels bad that he has to decline.

“Sorry, not tonight, I have plans already.” He can barely keep the excitement out of his voice. Nobora definitely picks up what he must mean, at least she’s on the right track.

“We’ll let you get out of it this time since you’re paying for the food, but you and Gojo better show up next time.” She points her spoon at him, eyes narrowed.

Megumi holds up his hands, almost grinning. “We will, next time.”

Of course it's unspoken, that they rarely go to any group gatherings without each other, all so they can sit close, thigh to thigh and murmuring to each other. They must all be fed up with the denial. He sort of doesn’t blame them.

____

Megumi goes home as soon as they part ways and starts getting ready. He showers thoroughly, making sure every inch of him is cleaned from any smells other than his own that may be clinging from the restaurant or the train ride back home. He doesn't want there to be any chance that tonight, when he enters Gojo’s apartment unannounced and uninvited, that he’ll be mistaken for anyone but himself.

After he’s clean and prepared, he puts on the tank top and sweatpants he was wearing the day before. Megumi had done a light bit of yoga to calm himself the night before, anticipating Gojo’s return from his business trip so much he could hardly wind down. They smell of his clean sweat only.

Night can’t come fast enough, and when it does, Megumi slips out of his apartment and uses his shadows to make his way to Gojo’s. He only lives a twenty minute walk away. He’d told Megumi about the place just days after he showed Gojo his own apartment. Of course he wanted them to be close, Gojo is thoughtful of him like that.

He takes up his post in the park that faces the back of Gojo’s apartment, where he can see his balcony and the light still on from inside. He's careful to stay out of view and suppresses his cursed energy. He knows his six eyes and enhanced senses have a limit, especially if he isn't focusing. Unsurprisingly, it isn't until nearly two a.m. when the lights finally go off, but Megumi doesn't mind the wait. He uses the time to think about what exactly he wants to do. Where he wants to touch and look first.

He settles to wait another thirty minutes or so, but just a minute after that one light goes off, Megumi's phone vibrates in his pocket. It's Gojo, because of course it is.

‘Megumiiiiii I'm too excited about our date tomorrow to sleep. :(((( I want to see you soon.’

Megumi bites his lip and rolls his eyes, not bothering to keep his face stoic and calm like usual where no one can see him in the dark. He smiles because he really does love the childish, flirty way Gojo always talks to him. It's honestly cute and endearing even if it can be annoying.

‘I’m looking forward to it, too. Sleep so you’ll see me sooner, I'll be annoyed if you sleep during the movie.’

His reply is instant.

‘It’s hard without you, the bed is too big. :,(’

Megumi's heart skips a beat and he puts the phone to his chest hard like he's trying to put the words on his screen right into it. He’s been saying stuff like that a lot recently, waiting for Megumi to finally put a name to this. He wants to give in everytime, say screw it and just fall head first into their inevitable love story, but it's not time yet. Megumi still needs those last few little strings of doubt to be tied up with this little game before he can be sure about it.

‘I know, me too. Try for me.’ he sends in return.

He’s playing dirty, knowing that Gojo will read it and immediately put his phone down and shut his eyes, because he’s always good for Megumi. Always.

Thirty more minutes feels like an eternity, but as soon as he reaches that time he’s slipping into his shadows and on Gojo’s balcony before he can complete his next inhale. Gojo doesn't have any curtains and his bed is right by the double glass balcony doors. Megumi can see him clear as day, blankets bunched at his waist so that his bare chest and stomach are glowing in the light of the moon above them. He’s already half hard standing there, can see his cursed energy bending the shadows into pillowy, ebbing flows like flowing mud. He’s doing it on purpose so that when Megumi slides the unlocked door open Gojo won't even flinch, and he doesn't.

He almost doesn't want to step in right away, wants to savor the moments of standing there like a stalker breaking and entering because it's getting him so hot, but as soon as the door is open he’s hit with the man's smell. It's enough to nearly buckle his knees. It’s been way too long since they've seen each other. Texts and calls will never do the man justice as in the flesh.

Megumi slides the door closed and walks forward until he’s at the foot of the bed, swallowing back thick spit at the way his shadow blots out of the light of the moon and casts that beautiful pale body in his dark glow.

He looks so peaceful and soft, but there’s the smallest crease in his brow. It pulls at Megumi's heart enough to have him coming around to the side of the bed, thumb pulsing with cursed energy as he gently smooths it out. Gojo relaxes immediately and Megumi hums, pleased and happy that Gojo knows he’s there now. He slips his hand up to card through his hair, slightly damp at the roots because he’s never patient enough to dry it completely on his own after a bath.

Megumi tuts, wishing he’d been here to do it for him. He was going to get sick if he kept being so lazy with himself. But Megumi forgives him as usual, he’s still going to reward him for making this night happen for them.

He palms himself in his sweatpants with one hand while the other leaves Gojo’s hair and slides the blanket down to his knees. He’s surprised to see Gojo isn’t wearing any underwear, quite unusual for him especially when he thinks he’s alone. Looking at the state of the room with his clothes from the day strewn around, though, Megumi assumes he must have been too tired from traveling to look for any clothes. Maybe he was even thinking of touching himself when he’d texted him earlier. He knows Gojo always misses him so much when he goes out of town for missions.

His sweatpants slide down his legs with a faint whisper of fabric on skin until he steps out of them and flicks them to the side on the floor. He also forwent underwear for the occasion, not wanting any more steps in the way of what he’s here for.

As much as he considers this a reward for Gojo , he won’t lie and say this isn’t a present for himself as well. He’s been thinking about it for weeks now, maybe longer. Dreaming about this very night over and over again.

He picks through his pocket on the ground, nearly forgetting the packet of lube with how entranced he is with Gojo’s body. He marvels at how wide his legs have to spread around the beast of a man as he straddles his waist and slowly settles his weight just above dick.

Gojo is already half hard, and again Megumi can only assume it’s because of the texts and whatever thoughts Gojo was having about him. Poor thing must have had such a hard time falling asleep after Megumi so boldly said he missed him too.

“I’m here now, don’t you worry.” He whispers, fingers fumbling with the foil wrap of the lube until he finally tears it and spreads it messily on one hand. He doesn’t know when he started shaking, he’s just so excited.

He reaches back behind himself and grabs a hold of his cock, spreads the lube over him generously in favor of his usual gentle strokes. He’ll make Gojo feel good when he’s hard enough to be inside him, because no matter what, Megumi is hell bound to have that thick meat spear him open as soon as possible.

He pants like a dog as he watches Gojo’s face, his own dick heavy against his stomach as he gently rocks against him. His stomach is in twists as he feels Gojo getting harder and harder, watching the red flush of arousal spread over his white skin in real time. He’s so pretty, Megumi can hardly bear it.

He can’t believe this man belongs to him, out of all the people in the world Megumi above all is the one that gets to touch him, taste him, feel him. It’s a right he’s hard earned for nearly fourteen years.

Finally, blessedly, Gojo is stiff enough to be inside him, so Megumi moves his shaky fingers to his ass, rising to his knees and lowering himself over Gojo’s chest while he holds himself with his other hand. After thoroughly cleaning himself in the shower, Megumi had worked himself open thoroughly with three fingers, then stuffed himself with a plug he’d bought that was just a little thinner than Gojo’s cock.

The plug feels heavenly as he twists it this way and that, re-working the lube he’d used hours ago around his warm insides. Megumi gasps as he removes it, his puffy and soft rim left gaping just a little as he tosses it on the bed somewhere at Gojo’s side.

He immediately misses the weight of it and the comforting stretch, his hole clenches desperately for something to fill it again, just as hungry and eager as Megumi is. But he doesn’t want to rush, knowing the second he drops down on Gojo’s dick he’s taking a large bounding leap in the new direction of their lives. The sense of power and finality sends a heady rush of endorphins through him and he can’t stop the quiet laugh breaking through his lips.

Once they do this Megumi will finally let Gojo have him, finally let himself be owned the same way that he owns Gojo. With that thought in mind, he rises back up into his knees, wobbly and unsteady as his legs shake with the rest of him. Still, he manages to line himself up, breath stuttering at the first contact of the slick head of Gojo’s cock to his needy asshole.

It feels hot, burning and so big against him already. He breathes deep, face upturned to the ceiling and eyes squeezed shut as he slowly lowers himself. Gojo splits him open so wide that Megumi can’t control how loud he’s breathing.

“Satoru, fuck- shit you’re so fucking big, mmm!” He whines, likely not even halfway in but already so full to bursting. Even with how stretched he is it takes Megumi several agonizing minutes of toe curling torture before he’s seated most of the way on him.

The little instinctual twitches of Gojo’s hips at random intervals drive broken little sounds from him every time, and when Megumi’s ass finally settles on his pelvis he’s so gone he’s drooling a mess of spit and tears down his face. He wishes there was a mirror in here so he could see how he looks, surely wrecked beyond belief.

Gojo looks almost the same, his large hands twitching against his stomach where Megumi draped them to keep them safe from being crushed by his knees. Not that the weight of his smaller body would disturb those thick and elegant fingers one bit.

And Gojo really is so big, a head taller and twice as broad, easily twice his weight. His thickly muscled chest and ass and thighs, larger than when Megumi was still in college due to Gojo adapting a better diet and workout regime after his fight with Sukuna. Of course his dick too, the largest one Megumi's ever seen outside of porn, with big heavy balls that always make so much cum just for him.

He shakes in his seat, muscles spasming wildly around the monster inside him. He can’t wait to start moving, but he won’t push himself. Gojo also surely needs time to get used to how tight and hot he is, because even if he comes quickly Megumi doesn’t plan to stop riding him until he has his fill. He doesn’t care if the over stimulation hurts him this time, this is his time to be greedy.

He braces his knees up against Gojo’s sides and starts the agonizing slide up. It doesn't hurt, but he’s so damn wide inside him that Megumi can feel his hole puckering out as it clings onto him. It's the obscene thought of Gojo reaming him out that makes him moan lowly this time. Just imagining rolling off of Gojo after he cums in him, asshole loose and sticking out of him while Megumi has to push it back right side in while he drips hot cum all over. It has his eyes rolling back in his head.

Fuck, his dick is leaking so much already and his balls are drawn up close. If he's not careful he’ll come before he can even start a proper rhythm. So he breathes deep and closes his eyes, knowing that looking at Gojo right now won’t stop him from cumming. He rises until just the tip sits inside him, then slowly sinks back down. He’s used plenty of lube so they squelch together right away. Megumi bites his lips, decides ‘fuck it’ and starts riding him for real.

He’s not moving particularly fast or hard, because he doesn't want to jostle Gojo too much or worry about him slipping out, but it feels better than any of the times that Megumi has fucked himself violently with any one of his dildos. He can't believe he really has Gojo inside him right now, dragging his insides out and pushing them back in. Megumi whines as he opens his eyes, watches how Gojo’s lashes flutter and his nostrils flare with his breathing, bangs sliding around his face with every motion.

Gojo has to be feeling it too, and Megumi doesn't even have to wonder if his sloppy hole is the best thing he’s ever stuck his dick into, he knows it is.

Megumi grabs one of Gojo’s big hands and presses it to his own chest, whimpering at how hot it is against him and how he can hardly wrap his fingers around his wrist. He can't help but to move a little faster, he's so close, the tension ready to snap at any minute. He doesn't know how long they've even been doing this, but he's pouring sweat and shaking from the exertion.

Then Gojo’s hips snap up once, twice, almost throwing him off with the power of it, and Megumi feels hot, hot liquid heat spread inside him so deep he chokes on it. Gojo for sure just came inside him, but what makes Megumi have to bunch up his tank top and bite into it to keep from screaming as he cums, is the little breathy whine of ‘Megumi’ that leaves his lips.

He drops Gojo’s hand as carefully as he can while his entire body tenses and shakes from his orgasm. His vision gets fuzzy at the edges and he feels like he’ll faint, but he feels so damn good he hardly cares anymore if Gojo wakes up. He almost wishes he would, so he can see just how good Megumi feels and god he wants to see what color blue his eyes are when he’s full of desire.

Desire for him. He knows Gojo wants him, knows it better than the sun will rise and the tide will come back in, but hearing him say his name so desperately while he cums, in his sleep where he can't possibly lie, makes Megumi feel ten times more powerful than exorcizing any curse. He feels like a god being praised by their first and only follower.

Megumi has to finally lean forward and brace himself with his hands on Gojo’s chest, shaking and making pathetic little ah ah ah’s as Gojo’s dick twitches with the last of his orgasm inside him. He sniffles, overwhelmed and so physically tired. He wishes he could sleep right there draped over Gojo’s chest with his dick still in him, but he has to get up. He has to clean them and leave before Gojo has a chance to actually wake up.

He gives his neck a parting kiss and when he notices how humid and slick the skin is from his sweat and Megumi's own breath, he licks it for good measure. He braces himself as he rises, swallows a fresh wave of tears as Gojo slips out of him and flops wetly down onto his strong thigh. It's such a pity that they can't be attached like this all the time, but Megumi supposes it would lose the gravity it holds now eventually.

Before he tries to stand on his wobbling legs, Megumi reaches blindly for the discarded plug where he tossed it earlier. It's cool now but still plenty lubed, a perfect fit as he reaches behind himself and pushes it back in with next to no resistance from how gaped he is. Megumi doesn't plan on letting his hard earned prize leak out of him anytime soon. Maybe he'll even take a picture to show Gojo later.

It takes a few tries to get his legs to hold him up, but when he feels like he can stand without leaning on the bed he hobbles his way to Gojo’s bathroom. Megumi doesn't turn the light on, but his eyes are adjusted enough to see how wrecked he looks in the mirror. His hair is far more wild than usual and he nearly looks like he’s been in a fight with how puffy his lips and eyes are. He smiles, a small private thing that shows how truly pleased he is, butterflies erupting in his stomach and chest like a swarm.

He turns on the warm water in the sink and quietly ruffles through Gojo’s cabinets, rolling his eyes fondly with how disorganized everything is. Once they move in together he'll have to figure out how to instill some order.

However, when Megumi walks back into the living room to start diligently cleaning Gojo up with a warm washcloth in hand, all he sees is the large empty bed bathed in scant moonlight. He freezes, a curious chill running down his sweaty back that isn't exactly fear.

He doesn't have long to theorize, because two large hands settle on his shoulders from behind. Megumi sways a bit on his feet, tongue swiping over his teeth under his lips, and then he swallows loudly.

“Looking for me?” Gojo’s voice is raspy and soft, but there's no emotion besides slight amusement that Megumi can discern.

“How long?” he rasps back, his heart that had just only been able to calm down ramping back up.

“Hmm? How long have I been awake? Or been out of bed?” He’s teasing, but his fingers close just a bit harder over his shoulders, digging into muscle and bone.

Gojo being mad isn’t really out of the question. Megumi knows, logically, in the part of his brain that isn’t riddled with obsessive mental illness, knows that even if Gojo loves him and wants to fuck him, there’s a large line between two conscious people deciding to be intimate versus one person touching the other while they sleep without discussion. Without permission. He can't really say he feels bad, though, or even regrets it. Even if Gojo is mad, he won't argue his case.

He’s long been resolute in his conviction for what he's been doing, whether it's considered right or wrong by other people.

“Either.” He finally says, realizing he's trembling. He’s a lot stronger now than when he was a kid, but so is Gojo. Megumi isn't even sure he’d fight back if Gojo decided to rough him up a little, in fact he’d probably enjoy it as long as it equals his forgiveness.

“When you sat up and reached for this.” Gojo slides his hand down Megumi's back and presses firmly on the plug still in him, grabbing the base and twisting it back and forth. It slides easily but the stimulation makes Megumi's knees wobble and his breath stutter.

“How long have you been doing this? It’s surely not the first time.”

“It’s the first time you’ve been inside me, but I've been touching you for a while. Months.” He gasps when Gojo grips the plug, pulls it until it almost comes out and the widest part of it stretches his raw, puffy hole. Then he pushes it back in, humming again.

“What else have you been doing? Have you been inside me? Give me a list.” The hand that isn't fiddling with the plug moves from Megumi's shoulder to over his throat. Gojo doesn't squeeze, but the little bit of pressure lights Megumi's nerves on fire.

“A finger, once. Jerking you off with my hands, using my mouth.” Megumi is breathing hard, doing his best not to fidget. He wants to take Gojo’s playful tone at face value, but the pressure of his middle finger and thumb on both of his carotid arteries doesn't let him relax.

“You must have been so careful, for me to never wake up. No wonder I've been so well rested.” Gojo coos, tightening his hold a bit more. He steps closer, the heat of his body scalds Megumi's back and he feels his eyes start to tear up a little. Adrenaline pumps through him.

He feels pride in himself, proud that he’s made such an impact on Gojo’s waking life that even the man himself noticed. Megumi is glad Gojo knows that was all because of him.

“Have you been having fun?”

“Are you angry?” Megumi whispers, lips trembling and rubbery. He doesn't mind if he is, he really doesn't, but the anticipation of waiting to know what's in store for him is making it hard for him to focus on anything else.

“Answer me. You like it, don't you? Making me feel safe so you can fondle me in my sleep like a little creep.” There's something dark in Gojo’s voice now, heavy and dangerous.

Megumi whines, squeezes his eyes shut and nods as much as the hand on his neck allows. Gojo drops his hand from the plug and grabs a hold of his hip, probably to keep him standing upright.

“I love it, I don't feel bad, either.” He admits, breathless.

“Of course you don’t, you probably thought you were doing me a favor. Taking care of me, hmm?” He jerks Megumi backwards, so he’s pressed right up against him.

“I was, I- I am.” Megumi insists, lightheaded. Gojo is towering over him like the monolith he is. He’s so weak for him, ready to sink to his knees and do whatever he needs to if Gojo gives the word.

“I’m a little pissed off.” Gojo hisses above him. “Years pining after you and jerking off in the shower after our practices, waiting for your permission so I didn't pressure you into anything. And here you’ve been doing whatever you want, taking your fill. I’ve been so patient.”

Gojo's hand squeezes tight enough on Megumi's neck to make him struggle to breathe so he drops his mouth open to take in a deeper breath, the air whistling in his constricted throat. It’s near impossible to talk but he tries his best.

“I needed to make sure I was really what you wanted, I… I didn't want to be settled for.” He whimpers as hot tears finally fall over his bottom lashes, face red with embarrassment. He had always wanted to avoid talking about it.

Gojo whistles. “Wow, you're really good at making me mad. Always know what buttons to press, don't you? It’s probably my fault for spoiling you so much.” He lets go of Megumi's throat and turns him around by the shoulders before grabbing a hold of his face. They swallow his head near completely and Gojo stoops low so those angry, heavenly blue eyes are right in front of his own.

“You’re not the type of person that someone settles for, I thought you were over this self hatred phase. I’m being serious now so listen well.” Megumi nods, eyes wide and lips trembling. He wants to look away but knows it will only upset him more.

“I can have just about anyone I want. Could have had anyone, if I really wanted to. In the past and present. I have never had the same feelings for anyone else as I do you, do you understand me?”

Megumi nods, and even though he's still a little worried (excited?) about what punishment is in store for him, it feels like a part of him that's been strung tight to straining has finally released. He sags against Gojo, sniffling and rubbing his cheek onto his chest. He’s surprised how good it feels to know without a doubt that they share the same feelings. He didn't know he'd been doubting it that much.

Gojo pats him on the back, sighing and squeezing him tight. All the anger seems to drain out of him.

“Glad you get it. Now, are you going to let me see what I've been missing out on?” Megumi stiffens as Gojo slowly pulls the plug out of him completely, pulling the last of his self control with it. The air in the room changes from the crisp coolness Megumi felt a moment ago, harsh on his tender skin as he stood in limbo. Now, it's thick and syrupy and warm, all radiating from Gojo and the look he levels Megumi with.

He looks relieved and impatient, like he really has been waiting just for this. Megumi has always been so sure before that this is what would happen for them, but now, faced with it, he's trembling.

“You want me again?” He whispers. He feels empty without the plug, forlorn at the first hot drip of Gojo’s cum leaking out of his hole and down the curve of his ass to his thigh. The glob makes an obscene noise as it lands on the hardwood beneath. He watches Gojo’s eyes glance down, watches his pupils stretch impossibly wide until just the thinnest line of glowing blue is visible. Gojo's nostrils flare and he lifts Megumi by the waist, walking him to the bed and laying over him.

He moves him like he's nothing, like the weight of a grown man is nothing. Megumi’s breath rushes out of him in a low whistling whine as he looks up at him. Every muscle in Gojo’s arms and chest are flexed, taught and full of blood, pushing thick veins to the skin.

Gojo almost looks like a different man with the way he looms, hovers, engulfs; with the way he's practically salivating looking down on Megumi like nothing more than a meal. Maybe he hasn't always been in charge as much as he thought he has.

“I want you so bad I want to take a bite out of you.” He pants, lowering himself slowly like he really will.

Megumi turns his head to the side immediately, baring his throat as his cock rapidly fills with blood again. He’s offering for Gojo to take his fill, stiffens and holds himself taught as Gojo leans his head down to ghost his breath and lips and teeth over Megumi's pulse. Megumi anticipates the harsh bite of those perfect teeth, how they'll feel as they sink through his skin like nothing, a ripe fruit splitting and spilling his sweet red juice, but Gojo just holds there. So long that Megumi starts twitching and making little sounds that he can't stop.

“Where's all that bravado? You want it that bad? Maybe I just want to look and we won't do anything else tonight.” He sighs, Megumi can hear the smile in it. Gojo’s using that tone he uses when he's fighting a powerful opponent that's starting to piss him off. Low and a little crazed.

“Please.” He begs, fills his shaking fingers with Gojo’s hair and just holds him there. He can feel his ass gaping and squeezing around nothing. He knows Gojo is hard again, can feel the heat coming off it over his leg even though it's not touching him. He'll do anything to have it back inside him.

“Let me see first.” Gojo sing-songs, sliding down over Megumi's chest and stomach, dragging his tongue and teeth over his skin as he goes. It sets Megumi on fire everywhere. Then Gojo is slipping off of the bed to his knees on the floor, dragging Megumi's ass to the edge of the bed with hands under his knees that practically wrap around the joint completely.

He shakes as Gojo props his thighs on his shoulders. His face is right in front of his ass, hot breath softening his hot wet hole and heavy balls even more.

“Oh, god.” He breathes in, sharp and eyes wide. He can't look away from Gojo’s predatory eyes between his legs. Gojo laughs, buries his nose in Megumi's hip next to his cock, inhales deep and ragged as he drags it down to his hole to smell him there too. It's depraved and borderline disgusting, but it's what Megumi wants. What he’s dreamed of. To be filthily wanted the same way as he wants Gojo.

Gojo’s thumbs spread his cheeks wide as he smells him again.

“You should see how much you're dripping out right now.” He reaches a finger in, Megumi arches at how big it is compared to his own. Gojo thrusts it in and out of him lazily, feeling around his guts with no care for any pleasure he brings Megumi in doing so. Then his finger tip curls just so, pressing up against him inside and dragging out of him like a scoop. Megumi's thighs shake when he feels an even thicker glob spill out of him. His thighs are shaking and he's breathing like he's sprinting.

“You're so sweet to not waste this. You're always so grateful for gifts. Don't worry, baby, we're not going to waste it.” Before Megumi can feel the fresh wave of chills spread goosebumps down his body, Gojo’s hot mouth is over him.

Megumi practically sobs as Gojo’s tongue slips in him and then he’s sucking his own cum out of him. He doesn't stop Megumi from writhing and grinding against his face as he shakes and cries and begs and shouts every expletive he can think of. He just holds his waist and eats him out like an animal. Just when Megumi is about to start pulling his hair and begging him to stop, to keep going, to shove his cock in until he can feel it in his throat, Gojo surges up.

He straddles Megumi's torso, great big strong thighs pinning him in place and his hot cock a burning rod alongside his neck. Gojo takes a hold of him by the hair, grins at him with a deadly closed lip smile and tilts his head up. His mouth is full so it's garbled when he tells Megumi to ‘open’, but Megumi hears him.

It makes his eyelids twitch and he feels so lightheaded from the blood rushing anywhere but his brain. Megumi opens his mouth wide, fights the hold on his hair to lift his face up high. Then Gojo leans over, pursing his lips as he lets out a long, filthy glob of spit and his own cum to fall towards Megumi's gaping maw.

Megumi spasms when it meets his tongue, starts to fill his mouth so much he can barely swallow without choking on it. But he does swallow, can see Gojo’s eyes watching the bob of his throat as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Then Megumi opens his mouth and sticks his tongue out, showing off how well he's done.

Gojo curses, grabs a hold of his dick at the base and squeezes it before angling it to lay on Megumi's cheek. He looks conflicted at the image, so Megumi helps him by turning his head to nose along the length of it, breathing in the smell of the combined musk of both of their bodies on the hot skin.

“Shit, you’ll let me do whatever, huh?” Gojo is breathless, starstruck and seemingly at war with himself. Megumi narrows his eyes, he's going to get seriously pissed if he's the one that's going to insist on having a moral conundrum at this moment. He brings his hands up where they're trapped under Gojo’s thighs and digs his nails where he can reach, teeth bared.

“Exactly, I'm letting you because I want it. If I didn't, don't think you'd be getting away with anything. And you were asking me where my bravado went.”

Gojo tenses at the pain, but his eyes soften just a bit. “I know, it's just-” Megumi interrupts him, surging forward to bite at the strong tendon of his inner thigh.

“After you fuck me with this ridiculously big dick and we cum, we can talk semantics all night. Don’t be a coward.” he hisses. His words have the effect he wants, Gojo’s eyes darkening again and his lip curling. He knows what riles him up better than anyone ever has, knows that he can do just about anything with no reaction, but to challenge him like this, he's playing with fire.

Gojo laughs, sharp and surprised, then gets off of Megumi to push him further up the bed and flip him over on his stomach. Megumi moans just from that and arches his back to round his ass out as Gojo kneads into it with his hands.

“Youre so fucking mouthy, all the damn time…” hes breathless, Megumi doesn't have to turn his head to know that Gojo’s looking right into his hole as it twitches, but he does anyway to shoot him a shit eating grin. Gojo swallows, Megumi wonders if he's really realizing who's in control right now.

He doesn't seem to dwell on it long, hiking Megumi's hips up until his knees are under him then rutting hot and filthy against his crack. It feels so fucking good every time the head of his cock catches on his rim before slipping away.

Megumi moans shamelessly and pushes back against him, egging Gojo on as much as he can. He can't even begin to think of what’s going through his head, but Megumi hopes the fact that he's been practically, definitely, molesting the man in his sleep for years will be enough for him to get over whatever stupid adult responsibility he’s trying to have right now.

“C’mon, please Satoru.” he whines, arching his back as much as he can. And he listens, Gojo groaning behind him as he holds Megumi's hips still with an iron grip with one hand and lines himself up with the other. Megumi hisses out a long, drawn out ‘yes’ as the head pops in, practically clawing at the sheets as Gojo pushes in a few inches right away and holds there.

He can hear his breathing behind him, labored and loud. Good, Megumi thinks.

“Give me all of it, Satoru, baby,” Megumi moans. Gojo whines behind him, hips twitching as he sinks in more. Megumi can't help but laugh, he didn't think Gojo would like that so much.

“Mmm, fuck yes-ah!” Megumi pushes back against him, squeezing tight when he feels Gojo’s balls against his own. “That's my good boy.” he says, breathless.

That seems to break Gojo; he makes a chocked off pitiful version of a whine this time and drops over Megumi fully, pinning him flat to the bed under him as he starts to fuck in and out of him in earnest. He winds his big arms under Megumi’s chest and crosses them to grab the front of his shoulders, using the leverage to slam Megumi’s body back against him every time he fucks forward. It's all he can do to lay there and take it, he’s moaning so loud he's glad that Gojo doesn't have any neighbors at the moment.

“Say it again, please Megumi, call me that again.” Gojo begs, voice high pitched and whistling as he struggles to talk and fuck him at the brutal pace he’s started. He pauses to grind against him hard a few times, sending Megumi's legs scrambling under both of their weight.

“You're my good boy, so- shit shit shit! So fucking deep.” Megumi can barely breath with how far up Gojo’s cock is in him, mashing and grinding against places that have never been touched like his dick is coring him out.

Gojo nods against him, pace back to frantic and so hard it's knocking the breath out of Megumi with each thrust. “I am, I am good.” Gojo’s trembling now, laying more of his weight on him. He feels like he'll be crushed soon, but it feels too damn good for him to care. The combined assault on his ass and the way they’re sliding together with slick sweat and his own cock rubbing into the mattress, Megumi knows he's going to cum soon again. He can feel it racing through his body and through his spine like a wave about to crash and drown him.

“I’m gonna cum!” cries out frantically, slamming his hips back against Gojo’s as much as he can and squeezing. “You're making me cum, god fuck Satoru!” and then he is, body drawing up so tight his arms and legs are going numb with it. Gojo just slams into him harder, breathing like a wild horse right in his ear.

“Yeah, oooh fuck!” Gojo shouts as Megumi squeezes him hard enough that it surely hurts. His thrusts are wild and he’s using Megumi’s body like a toy, squeezing and grinding and fucking him like he’s not even alive, just a sopping wet sleeve he can use to get off. Megumi can feel his consciousness waning as he struggles to stay awake. He is so oversensitive it burns and stings.

Gojo sobs as he cums, thrusting into him sharply a few more times then holding himself in deep. Megumi chokes at how far in his guts he is, the pressure making his stomach sore and he swears he can feel every twitch of his dick as he fills him up much deeper than when Megumi was on top of him. He lays over him for a while, the both of their breathing taking much longer than normal to calm, but Gojo eventually lifts himself up.

Megumi grins and stretches his own arms out, feeling immense pride at how those big arms shake with exhaustion on either side of him.

“For fucks sake.” Gojo curses, breathlessly laughing. “I don't think I can even lift myself up.”

“Don’t then,” Megumi cuts a glance at him over his shoulder. “You’re keeping me warm.”

Gojo groans and slips out as gently as he can before falling to Megumi's side with a thump that bounces them on the mattress. Megumi really wishes he’d stayed inside longer, but the both of them are too sensitive for it. Gojo slips his arm under him and pulls him roughly into his chest, face nuzzled into his neck as he peppers it with kisses. A full 180 from his previous irritation.

“I get why I slept through that the first time, you probably knocked me out before I even had the chance to wake up.” Gojo laughs.

“What would you have done if you did wake up?” Megumi lays his hand over Gojo’s arm around him, stroking the fine hairs there.

“Mmm, definitely fucked you until I came. After that I don't know, have you really been doing this for a while?”

Megumi swallows, pursing his lips and turning to look at him again. “Yes, almost a year.”

Gojo whines and squeezes him, pouting like a child, like he hasn't just got done fucking Megumi within an inch of his life.

“So not fair, I've been waiting so long to be able to touch you. Do you know how hard it's been to sleep with you almost every night and not give in? I really was waiting for you and trying to be patient!”

Megumi brings his hand up to kiss the back of it, as close to an apology as he can muster for something he really doesn't feel bad about.

“Did you really think I would reject you? I thought I was making it obvious that I was serious about you, I mean we've practically been living together.” Gojo sighs and buries his head into Megumi's shoulder, running his thumb over Megumi's swollen bottom lip.

“I was being a coward, you couldn't tell me no while you were sleeping. I was afraid you would try to be rational for once.”

Gojo whines again and then rolls Megumi until he's on his back, propping himself up to look down over him. His eyes are bright and maybe just a touch sad.

“I’ve always loved you, you know. There was this time when you were a kid, maybe eight, after one of the first times we did a little practice spar.” Gojo smiles fondly, eyes drifting to watch his own long fingers car through Megumi's wild hair.

“You were holding it together pretty good, I was being a little mean and impatient. Suguru and I were kind of fighting at the time so I was being immature and taking it out on you. I tossed you too hard onto the matts and I could tell you were trying not to cry. I felt like shit and was about to give a probably really half assed apology, but then you came right up and punched me in the nuts and started yelling. Do you remember that?”

Megumi covers his mouth with his hand to muffle his laugh, but gives up when Gojo starts laughing too. He does remember, remembers how Gojo was telling him the whole time that he was too slow, that he should have seen this or that move coming when he was just a child that had never thrown a punch in his life.

“Do you remember what you said?” He stops laughing and pins Megumi with his gaze, suddenly serious. Megumi shakes his head.

“You said that if I wanted to fight a certain person, that I should beat them up. You said that you were just learning and you weren't whatever person I was comparing you to. You looked pretty scary even though you were crying while I was rolling on the ground holding my balls.”

Gojo moves his face closer, kissing him on his cheek and forehead and hairline.

“I felt like shit because you were right. I was using you as a placeholder; a malnourished eight year old and I was expecting you to live up to the image in my head of another person. But you called me out on it, you've always been able to do that. Not even Suguru or Shoko would ever seriously tell me off when I was being an asshole.”

Megumi bites his lip, he is beyond surprised to hear Gojo talking about him again, and so casually.

“I’ve always loved that about you, you're the only person that I feel like I don't have to hide anything from. You're not going to let me get away with any of my bullshit but you have never once abandoned me.”

Megumi scoffs, cheeks red but soaking up the attention as Gojo kisses down his neck. “Of course not, you’re the one that decided to be a part of my life. It’s not your decision to leave it.”

Gojo shudders and pulls back to look at him, his eyes blown wide. “Yeah? You gonna hold me hostage? What will you do if I decide to leave?”

Megumi shoots him an unimpressed look, but the irritation in the downturn of his lips is merely for show. He lets his shadows creep up the bed around them like a flood, tendrils lapping at Gojo’s skin until goosebumps race up over his back.

“I think you should try and see what happens when I find you.” Megumi leans into Gojo’s space, pushing and pulling him with his shadows until he can hover over him and lean his full weight on his thick chest. Gojo trembles and gives him a filthy look, submitting easily.

“Fuck, that’s so hot when you do that. Now I want to run just so you can trap me in these.” Gojo brushes a tendril that's wrapped around his tree trunk of a thigh.

“How are you horny again?” Megumi glances back to see that, indeed, Gojo’s cock is already half hard and twitching on his stomach.

“How could I not be?! I just found out you've been creeping on me in my sleep for months and now you're promising me some kind of mind blowing shadow bondage experience if I disobey you like some BDSM master.” he whines and thrusts his hips up, begging for attention shamelessly.

Megumi can't say he's surprised, but he also can't bring himself to keep up the charade of being annoyed. He smiles and drops his lips to Gojo’s neck, letting his shadows play around with his body as they please as he lets himself finally suck and lick marks into his pristine pale skin. He couldn't risk it before, knowing they’d be hard to explain.

He’s hard again too despite how exhausted his body is from getting fucked close to passing out. He wonders how many times they can make each other cum in one night. He wonders if they can keep going into the next day, he wonders if they'll ever stop. Possibly not, he thinks, if the hunger he feels for him now is any indicator.

Gojo brings him out of his meticulous marking by groaning and trailing his big hand down his back and dipping his finger in his crack.

“Before you let me in here again, we should talk about making our announcement.”

“Announcement for what?” Megumi bites along his collar bone and arches his back to try and lure that finger further down and in him. Heat is already creeping back up his skin and making him itch.

“For our engagement of course! We should throw a party in an obnoxiously nice venue, invite everyone and have a lot of food and drinks. Ooh, maybe in Hokkaido? My family owns a nice house there in the mountains not far from the ocean, I know you like the mountains there.”

Megumi blinks, finding it hard to focus now that Gojo has brought up an engagement of all things.

“What- shouldn't we date first?”

“What for? You just said I'm not allowed to leave you and I already know you loooove me.” Gojo stretches a little more to squeeze in two of his fingers and hook them just under his rim. He's not playing fair and he knows it if his dirty expression is anything to go by. Megumi's heart is pounding with the way his hole is being stretched and, if he’s being honest, also fluttering, imagining them having a party like that. He hasn't let himself put too much thought into being public with their relationship. He honestly assumed Gojo wouldn't be too eager to let everyone know about it despite how much he loves hanging off of him in public.

“I didn’t think you’d want everyone to know.” he admits, rolling his hips back against Gojo’s fingers to distract from the way his heart squeezes.

“Oh, baby.” Gojo coos, stuffing in a third finger and mashing them right into his prostate. His other hand rubs soothingly up Megumi's back and he nibbles at his ear.

“I’d go out into the street right now and yell it on live television if I could stand to get my fingers out of you.” He whispers, breathes hot and tongue leaving Megumi's ear wet. He whines, desperate and pushing back to ride his fingers in earnest.

“You don’t- god fuck, you don't care what anyone will think about you fucking your former student?”

“Not at all, everyone already thinks we have been anyway for who knows how long. If anything I'll be glad that everyone knows you’re off the market for good. I've been so worried someone would try and swipe my pretty boy for a while now." Gojo pulls his fingers out and grabs him by the hips, angling to thrust against Megumi's crack deliciously slowly again.

“I’m serious, though. We can't get legally married but we can have a nice ceremony. I’ll buy you a big fat ring as expensive as you want. I'll buy you anything you want anyway. What do you think?”

“Can’t we talk about this later?” Megumi gasps and tilts his hips to grind down against the hot drag of Gojo’s cock, but he holds his hips steady.

“Hmmm, nope! If you want me in you, you just have to say yes, baby. Otherwise I can definitely get off just rubbing against you like this.

“You’re so fucking annoying.” Megumi whines. He wants it badly, Gojo’s dick and everything he's promising him. It's easy to see, the two of them living together for real, all of their friends probably won't even be a little surprised. If anything, Megumi can see them all rolling their eyes and saying ‘finally’.

Megumi sits up, fingers digging into Gojo’s chest.

“Yes, fine. I’ll marry you as long as you quit fucking around and-” his voice breaks and cuts off as Gojo finally, blessedly, sinks into him in one smooth, wet slide. He throws his head back and practically wails, thighs trembling. It's so good even the third time, his cock so big that it doesn't feel like he’s loose at all from the first two times. Gojo seems to agree, cursing and hissing.

“That's it baby, knew you’d see it my way. Fuck, how are you so tight still?” He loosens his hold on Megumi’s hips so he can move freely, looking up at him with big blue eyes filled with love and desire. It makes Megumi feel so powerful and wanted, wanted in a way he realizes he's been desperate for. Gojo does want him, wants him so bad that he can get it up for him over and over again. Loves him so much he’ll do or say whatever stupid thing Megumi asks of him.

Megumi alternates between bouncing and grinding, lets himself be loud and moves like a whore. He wants Gojo to know how good it feels, wants him to know how much he craves and loves having him inside. He’s already close watching his face. He always thought Gojo was so pretty when Megumi would get him off in his sleep, but now it's ten fold.

His eyes being open and hooded, long white lashes breaking up the inhuman glow of them in the dark, it's all so beautiful Megumi forgets he's let his shadows out and they climb up his back and spill along Gojo’s sides on the bed.

He can feel everything they touch, Gojo’s humid skin and his own back. Then Gojo gasps and grabs a hold of him again, fingers bruising where they press tight against his hip bones. Gojo slams up into him at break neck speed, panting and moaning just as loud as Megumi, and fuck he loves that. Loves how that big ass mouth never quits making noise no matter what he's doing, loves that beautiful face carved from marble as it twists freely in expression.

It doesnt take long for the both of them to come again, Megumi first and Gojo a few minutes after, fucking into him while Megumi cries and claws at him wherever he can reach from the overstimulation.

After, he’s draped over Gojo’s chest again, well and truly boneless. His ass feels wrecked and messy, three loads worth of cum sitting in him and dribbling out between them. He knows his stomach will start to hurt soon if he doesn't clean up, but he fully intends to make that Gojo’s first fiancé duty.

For now he is wholly content to let Gojo pet over his skin and hum, the vibrations in his chest making him drowsy. He glances at the clock on Gojo’s bedside table, groans when it reads nearly four in the morning.

“Do you have work tomorrow?” His voice is hoarse and cracks, making Gojo laugh softly.

“Not unless there's an emergency. I can get us cleaned up and we can sleep on the couch all day if you want. Or I can do some laundry real quick for clean sheets.”

“You? Doing laundry?” Megumi snorts, rubbing his cheek into Gojo’s shoulder.

“Of course! I need to start learning how to be the perfect little housewife for you after all. No promises on learning how to cook, though.”

Megumi fully laughs at that, thinking of all the awful things Gojo has tried to make him in the past. The man simply has no patience for following recipes or measuring.

“I’ll do that part, you’re doing dishes, though.”

“Anything for you, baby, anything.” Gojo nuzzles the side of his head and drops a kiss against his ear, sighing like a lovestruck fool. Megumi is no better, if he's honest.