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Gojo Satoru was a name known to every sorcerer and curse alike. It was synonymous with power. A name that evoked fear, envy, or admiration - borne by a man whose birth had thrown the balance of the world into disarray. And with the knowledge of this strength, there was nothing in the world that could ever instill fear in him. No shaman, no curse, no matter how impressive their abilities seemed. The strongest sorcerer remained unshaken by anyone or anything.
And yet, Gojo Satoru knew the feeling of fear.
The first time he caught himself off guard was when he encountered Fushiguro Megumi. Never had he met such a stern-looking, skeptical six-year-old. Even in his early years, Megumi appeared so deeply affected by life that Satoru's mischief failed to impress him in the slightest. He was sharp - a genuine prodigy in Jujutsu. The question of whether Gojo should take the boy and his sister under his wing never truly arose. He was too captivated by the prospect of witnessing Megumi's growth, the challenge of eventually drawing a smile from him through his antics, a challenge at which he regularly fell short.
The second incident left the young man questioning himself more deeply. Megumi was now eleven years old. He, Tsumiki, and Gojo had formed a true little family. Thus, it shouldn't have been a particularly remarkable event when Gojo decided to take them on a day trip to Shinjuku. It was the first time the two children had ventured beyond their quiet suburb and into the bustling districts of Tokyo.
Gojo had chuckled at their wide-eyed wonder as they marveled at the towering skyscrapers before strolling through the tranquil city park.
There it happened.
Perhaps it was a bit embarrassing that, as a 22-year-old man, he had been most excited to hear the jingle of the ice cream truck, but Tsumiki and Megumi also seemed content as they sat together on top of a small park wall, enjoying their ice cream. Gojo had casually peered over the rim of his tinted sunglasses, ready to make some silly remark, when suddenly, all words caught in his throat, and he froze, staring as if struck by lightning.
Clueless, Megumi's small tongue licked his popsicle, so red and hot against the white ice cream. With each bite, he took a little inside his lovely mouth before swallowing it with relish. His wet smacking, the radiant eyes – Gojo just couldn’t tear his gaze away. Sweltering heat caused the ice cream to melt down Megumi's wooden stick, running over his small fingers as he hurriedly tried to lick it off.
Yet, a portion still dripped down onto his lap. Completely besmirched, Megumi didn't seem to mind much about the white chaos on his clothes nor the sticky substance on his fingers and smeared around his mouth. It wasn't until Tsumiki noticed him and, as always, promptly rummaged a few wet wipes from her pink shoulder bag to help clean her brother, that Gojo quickly shook his head.
The spell was broken. All that lingered was the turmoil within him, the throbbing heat in his groin, and the unsettling realization that he would never see his protege in the same way as he had just minutes before.
The most recent incident wasn't long past. Megumi, Yuji, and Nobara had officially been accepted into Tokyo Prefectural Jujutsu High School, forming the newest first-year class. However, there was still room for improvement in their teamwork. Therefore Gojo - being the dedicated teacher he was - decided to treat them to hot springs after their latest successful mission. While Nobara and Yuji eagerly embraced the idea, Megumi remained somewhat reserved.
It wasn't uncommon to cleanse oneself in the public showers and relax together in the onsen’s hot springs. However, what struck Gojo the moment he saw Megumi standing naked under the hot shower spray made him recoil.
Over the years, the kid he once knew had grown into a young man. His proportions, defined muscles, and deep voice were far from childish. This realization set his thoughts racing, opening up new possibilities that truly instilled a sense of fear in him unlike any he had experienced before.
Despite his attempts to suppress these thoughts, they continued plaguing him. Questions and confusion kept him awake at night, curiosity burned underneath his fingertips, and training sessions left him panicked as he rushed to the toilets afterward. What would he feel like? How would he taste? How would he sound? Gojo would never find out. He could not find out.
A conscientious person like Nanami would have undoubtedly distanced himself from his student by now. However, how could he inflict such a fate upon a young man who had been consistently abandoned by every single person he cared about throughout his entire life? Gojo was the only one who had stayed, and when he returned from his business trip one day to find out from Shoko that his student was bedridden with the flu, he simply had to check on him.
It was driven by good intentions – yet, as the saying goes, the path to hell is paved with good intentions.
⇜⇝
Megumi's room was dark as Gojo entered, the blinds drawn shut, casting long shadows across the room. Next to a bowl of water and a nightstand cluttered with medications, the boy lay peacefully asleep in his bed. Quietly, Gojo pulled up a chair before settling beside Megumi, gently brushing the black strands of hair from his fever-flushed forehead. He looked exhausted and frail, a sight that tugged at Gojo's heartstrings.
Just as he was about to readjust the rumpled blanket over his student, something caught his attention. Sweat had soaked through Megumi's pajamas, and only a monster would leave a sick person in such a state to fend for themselves. Carefully, he began to unbutton the blue silk shirt, certain he was doing the right thing. He was compelled to undress him. Out of compassion, out of care... out of curiosity.
Startled, Gojo jerked back, and the boy stirred in his sleep with a soft gasp until the parted fabric revealed his chest. Trembling, Gojo drew in a sharp breath. Megumi's body was so pure, so beautiful and flawless. The fever made his faint muscles glisten under a thin film of sweat, and as if in a trance, Gojo's quivering fingers reached out for his fair skin.
Just an innocent touch. A single caress - that was all he needed.
Fascinated, blue eyes shimmered as his fingertips made their first direct contact with the unfamiliar skin. Excitement surged through his body like an electric shock. He never let his guard down, infinity providing both protection and separation, so he gasped for air, his fingers dancing feather-lightly over Megumi's midsection. He felt the warmth of his moist skin, the steady rise and fall of each breath, and with precise control, he managed to withdraw his hand after a few moments.
Uncertainty filled his gaze as it descended further downward. Even the dark silk trousers clung damply to Megumi's legs. Gently, he lifted his hips to assist in removing the sweaty fabric.
He was surprised by how easily Megumi’s body yielded to him, how temptingly simple it would be to exploit this vulnerability, and as he followed the long, white legs upward, his fingers tracing fascinatedly over soft skin, he felt briefly tempted to peek beneath the elastic of his boxers.
Startled, Gojo shook his head, trying to comprehend what had overcome him.
Struggling to regain his composure, he reached for the water bowl beside Megumi's bed. However, he couldn't bring himself to cover the boy's nearly naked body under some tangled blankets at the foot of the mattress. With a soft splash, he wrung the cloth over a brown clay bowl before gently placing the cooling compress on Megumi's burning forehead.
Some droplets of water ran down the boy's temple. Trance-like, Gojo leaned forward, observing how his features twitched almost imperceptibly in his sleep, how his long eyelashes cast dark shadows over his cheekbones, and how his delicate pink lips parted slightly as he exhaled a soft breath.
As if under a spell, Gojo stared down at the unconscious face, feeling his heartbeat quicken as though he had just run a marathon. Subconsciously, he licked his lips before lowering himself even further, instinctively seeking the boy's mouth with his own.
Gently, he brushed against Megumi's lips, tasting their salty flavor mingled with his own, and that alone was enough to shatter his restraint into pieces. Craving more, he deepened the kiss, cautiously sliding his tongue through the narrow gap between Megumi's lips, and the taste of his mouth elicited a deep growl from the depths of his throat.
What did he really have to fear? Megumi was completely out of it due to the fever. He probably wouldn't notice anything, and even if he woke up, he would most likely have no recollection of it by the next morning. In case of an emergency, Gojo could always blame his indecent behavior on a vivid fever dream.
Before him on the bed lay a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that only a fool would resist. He just wanted to touch him a little, to taste him, to satisfy the years-long hunger for something he could never have. Megumi wouldn't find out about any of it.
And so he kissed him deeper, tenderly cupping his flushed cheek to adjust his head to a more comfortable angle and savor him. He tentatively licked into his mouth, pushing through relaxed rows of teeth until their tongues brushed against each other. Megumi's lips were wonderfully soft beneath his, and possessively, he claimed them entirely.
As much as he longed for them to reciprocate his movements, he still cherished this one-sided declaration of love. Only when Megumi sighed softly, the sound reverberating through Gojo's entire body until all the blood pooled in his groin, did he lift his head. And with the glistening strand of saliva connecting their mouths, he knew it was destiny.
Aware of his state, Gojo felt the fabric of his trousers brushing against his groin as he stood up, opting to settle on the edge of Megumi's bed. As the mattress yielded slightly beneath his weight, the boy inched a bit closer to him. With gentle eyes, Gojo watched him sleep peacefully until he noticed the goosebumps on his arms. The fresh room temperature had chilled the sweat on his skin, causing the boy to shiver until Gojo warmed him with his tender touches.
Slowly his hands traced over him – everywhere - caressing his arms, his torso, and his legs. And as his fingers once again grazed the dark cotton around his hips, he hesitated. To rid himself of this nagging curiosity once and for all, he knew he had to take one little step further. So, he slid his fingers under the fabric, exploring uncharted territories, and it felt only right that he should be the first to touch Megumi this way.
Slowly, he undressed the unconscious body. The sight of him - completely naked and oh so pure and beautiful - took his breath away. Climbing over him to gain a better view, the tingling sensation in his fingers compelled him to touch the boy.
Gently, he slid one of the many pillows under Megumi’s hips, lifting his bottom slightly and adjusting his legs for better access. Amidst fever reducers and cough syrups, Gojo found a bottle of medical body oil, and without a second thought, he applied a generous amount to his hands. The oily liquid made his fingers soft and smooth, and for a brief moment, he hesitated before spreading Megumi’s legs so he could touch his tight little entrance. Never had he intended to go this far, yet he couldn’t find it in himself to stop.
There was no turning back now. So, he gently massaged the slick oil into pale skin, grabbing the bottle again when his hands became too dry. Each slide over the sensitive ring of muscles made it more tempting to breach through it. As if it were sucking him in, he let his fingertip disappear into the sleeping boy, and with the newfound intimacy, his pulse surged to a new high. Restlessly, he tried to move his finger.
Megumi’s virgin hole was incredibly tight and his insides radiated an inviting heat. Or was it just the fever?
Carefully, he tried to open the boy up without putting too much strain on his innocent body. He couldn't risk waking Megumi up – not yet. So, he took his time as his finger delved deeper, stroking hot walls and slowly stretching his darling hole. It was only when Gojo's finger smoothly slid in and out that he dared to add another one, holding his breath anxiously as Megumi grimaced with a stifled gasp.
Gojo paused momentarily, but soon the boy's features relaxed again, and he let out a sigh of relief. With caution, he guided his fingers deeper into the hole, gently scissoring them, all the while keeping his gaze fixed on Megumi's face.
Despite being two fingers deep, the boy was still so tight that Gojo feared tearing him apart if he wasn't careful enough. For Megumi's first time, Gojo knew he needed to prepare him more thoroughly. If only he knew how far he could go with the kid sleeping so peacefully.
Adding a third finger, Megumi groaned out in pain as the pressure against his insides pierced through the veil of sleep into his subconsciousness. His eyelids fluttered dazedly, and in a panic, Gojo withdrew his hands, gently stroking through black hair.
"It's okay, keep sleeping," he whispered soothingly, and the boy nestled deeper into his soft pillow, munching quietly. The adorable sight drove the Jujutsu Sorcerer nearly insane, yet he forced himself to remain patient. For a few minutes, Gojo merely caressed his silky strands, calmly waiting for Megumi's semi-conscious state to deepen and turn back into a sound sleep.
The boy deserved the rest, a swift recovery, and at the same time, Gojo became more and more excited by the knowledge of how much he too would relish the pleasure that awaited him. He eagerly awaited the moment his gentle thrusts would awaken the boy from his innocent slumber, envisioning Megumi's sleep-drunk blinking before succumbing to all-consuming pleasure, leaving him a moaning mess with no choice but to surrender to Gojo's pure love. The very thought made the man's anticipation surge, and with a soft rattle of his zipper, he relieved the pressure against his throbbing cock, taking it out of his tight constraint.
One last time, he reached for the body oil, spreading the remaining contents over his bare cock. As he inserted three fingers into the widened hole this time, he rubbed his erection between Megumi's spread asscheeks. It marked the beginning of an encounter that already left him breathless.
With the first twitch of his dripping arousal, he almost feared he couldn't contain the overwhelming desire long enough, but he knew he had to seize this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. And so, his preparatory fingers became more careless, more hurried until he abandoned the act of care altogether.
Pinning his student beneath his weight, Gojo settled above him. Eagerly he licked his lips as he adjusted his hips. All these years, he had anticipated this moment, and now his heart raced faster than ever, causing his hands to tremble. Then, he slowly pushed his hips forward.
Gradually but persistently, he claimed the hot, moist tightness for himself, pressing firmly against it. With a sudden gasp, Megumi's eyes shot open in shock. Quickly, Gojo covered his mouth, while the boy's deep blue eyes quivered, attempting to discern the outlines in the darkness, trying to comprehend what was happening to him.
"Shhh," Gojo's soft voice whispered into Megumi's ear as the boy groaned, scared and panicked by his strong grip. "Just calm down, sweetheart. The pain will be over soon." Megumi shook his head fiercely, trying to break free from the tight grip, but Gojo's hold didn't waver, and the motion only made his skull throb with a dull headache. Consumed by pure helplessness, he snapped at the hand covering his mouth, but he only bit into the void, enveloping its master in an automatic protective mechanism.
"It's fine, Megumi. Quiet down," Gojo whispered, slightly taken aback as he gently held his student closer to his body. "Just hold on a bit longer. I'll make you feel so good..."
With his free hand, he gently stroked the boy's feverish skin, comforting him with soothing words until his weak limbs surrendered. The startled cries behind his hand faded to soft whimpers, and he felt tears running down his fingers. "That’s it," Gojo praised, and cautiously, he loosened his grip around Megumi's mouth.
"Satoru?" his student sobbed softly. The confusion in his voice tugged on Gojo’s heartstrings, and he tenderly pulled him even closer. "Don't worry. I'm here for you," he reassured him gently, and once again, the boy whimpered.
"No, I- I don't want this!", he cried out a little louder, and deep inside him, Gojo's cock throbbed excitedly against his inner walls. "Let go, it hurts!"
Tenderly, Gojo smiled against Megumi's neck. "It'll get better soon," he whispered between two kisses on sweat-dampened skin, and once again, the boy tried to squirm.
"Please..." Megumi pleaded, his voice trembling with fear. "Please, stop-" but before he could fully articulate his words, Gojo withdrew a few inches, only to slowly push even deeper. Sobbing, Megumi's body trembled, too weakened to resist the strong man. Gasping, he could only endure as Gojo moved with cautious thrusts, gently wiping the tears from his cheeks and kissing his throat, which vibrated with whimpering.
The teacher was too consumed by his own desires to hear Megumi's pleas, too lost in his own world to notice the boy's raw fear – or perhaps he consciously chose to ignore it. For as many times as he had imagined it during the past years, this moment – the blissfully arousing sensation – still surpassed his wildest fantasies.
"Very good, Megumi. Who made you so tight and hot? Just so perfect for your sensei," he panted, completely deluded, while Megumi shook his head, tears streaming down his adorable little face.
"Come on, baby, moan for me. Let me hear your beautiful voice," he urged, teasingly increasing the intensity of his thrusts. "Let everyone know just how good it feels to get fucked by Gojo Satoru."
Despite the broken sobs escaping Megumi's throat, all Gojo sensed from his tone was passionate affection and encouragement. Yielding to his desire, he gripped his waist with excessive force, his fingers digging painfully deep into the soft skin.
Groaning, the strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer let go of his inhibitions. With each forceful thrust, small beads of sweat flew from his tousled hair, and through the blurred veil of tears, Megumi no longer recognized his once affectionate and playful guardian.
Fever, panic, and pain merged into a whirlwind of emotions, leaving him unable to control his cursed technique. Desperate gestures to his Shikigami went unheard as he felt powerless and so unbelievably vulnerable. Every rough groan from Gojo's throat echoed in his ears, and with each painful thrust against his core, the pounding in his skull grew stronger, filling his senses until he felt nothing but the relentless hammering in his head.
Limp, his body slid across the squeaking mattress with each of Gojo's movements, his gaze fixed blankly on the bare ceiling. He didn't blink as the man inside him used his body just the way he had always desired. Even as Gojo's movements faltered, as he whispered words of praise and gently kissed his forehead before his voice was swallowed by a guttural moan, he no longer felt the hot release against his inner walls.
Gasping, Gojo rose carefully from his unconscious student, stroking his cheek lovingly. Despite feeling a hint of shame for pushing his boy too far, he felt fully satisfied for the first time in a long while. After thoroughly cleaning him, he tucked him under the warm blankets. Then he stood up.
And with an old look of longing on his face and a new secret in his heart, Gojo Satoru quietly slipped out the door.