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Suguru loved virgins.
The uncertain shake of their legs, the way they looked up at him like he's hung the stars for them personally, how tears clung to their lash line, how their mouth dropped open on a moan that would make them blush, their body quivering under every small touch, the pleasure too much to take for them as they squeezed tight around his co–
You get the idea.
He loved being a guidance, a leading part, the giver. The decision maker, someone people looked up to. It was a question of power. There wasn't much that made his dick harder, really.
If there was one thing he loved more than virgins, it was Satoru. Maybe it was because to Suguru, Satoru was the most brutal power trip. Having the strongest longing for you definitely made you feel a certain type of way, may it be when they were younger or now. Suguru was sure if it were any other way, he'd been long gone and with him, the cult he's built. But it wasn't. Because if Satoru had one weakness, it was Suguru. And to Suguru, that was the greatest form of satisfaction achievable.
They were forced to go different ways, but some things never changed.
Satoru loved Suguru. He had before and he was still doing so now, always running into his open arms, never shying away from a touch, letting his guard down so easily. He should be wary but he knew he needn't be for one thing was clear. Suguru loved Satoru.
The evidence hung off of his frame every day, in the form of the Gojo-kesa he wore and the letters of proof were neatly written on the scrolls decorating his temple. It was filling his head when he closed his eyes and saw what he longed for most in the form of a tall frame with short white hair, a bubbly laugh that made him question all his choices sometimes.
Satoru's eyes and hands and lips were doing the worst-best things to him. There was no reality in which he didn't love Satoru Gojo, he believed, and that's why they would always destroy each other. It was easy to brush aside in moments like this.
When both of them laid undressed on top of the soft tatami mats cushioning the floor in Suguru's luscious room, his robe hastily undone while Satoru was spread out for him like a three star Michelin meal, so easy, so gullible, so sensitive. Suguru's own personal, perfect plaything.
His pussy had been crying just from Suguru playing with his clit a little, leaving him soaked between his lips when Suguru went to spread them with his fingers. All for him. Only for him. Satoru was pristine and it ruined Suguru in the most perfect way, making him want to ruin Satoru.
He kissed Suguru like he was suffocating and Suguru was his oxygen. The cherry chapstick coating his lips made Suguru hum when he traced them with his tongue, making Satoru let out a soft gasp. He was eager, but clumsy, shy almost, upon being spread open like this, Suguru kneeling between his thighs, hands spreading pale legs open wider. When Satoru writhed underneath the touch, he dug his fingers in hard enough to leave bruises and Satoru moaned like a slut when he was so far from being one it was ridiculous.
Hours could go by just watching him writhe underneath Suguru's touch, the latter thought. Satoru was so responsive it was bordering on embarrassing. He behaved like a middle schooler, almost, and if he had a load to blow Suguru was sure it would have happened already. He was whining and thrashing and Suguru had barely touched him from the waist down, had only kissed him and left marks on his way down his throat, all over his collarbones, loving how it made Satoru tense and arch into the touch, his fluffy hair getting tangled when he threw back his head unable to conceal his sounds of pleasure that Suguru was inducing on him. Satoru almost came from Suguru playing his body like an instrument, not leaving an inch untouched like he was dusting off an altar with his tongue. If Satoru was a religion, Suguru was his most devoted worshipper.
Gospel wouldn’t even come close to the way Satoru was singing for him, voice breaking when Suguru finally moved his hovering fingers to push inside his wet heat, the intrusion sudden and deep, to the third knuckle in one go because Suguru knew it felt best when it burned, the way it made the walls clench down on him giving him the thrill he craved. Satoru was tight like a vice even around just one finger. He was going to be the death of Suguru.
Upon Satoru pleading him to in a broken voice, Suguru moved his finger, fucking it in and out of Satoru, the glide making sounds that were to die for, a slick squelching whenever he pushed back in. It did little to make Satoru loosen up, despite him taking deep breaths to relax. All of his work was for nothing when Suguru curled his finger up expertly to make Satoru tense again, gasping and rocking down on his hand, chasing the sensation. It was adorable, almost, how needy he was for something he couldn't handle. But Suguru would make him handle it soon enough.
"You can barely take me. How cute. You're trying so hard."
He slipped a second finger in then, relishing in how Satoru's whole body began to tremble, crooning in a low, honey-coated voice "oh poor baby, is it too much for you? Should I pull out?" just for Satoru to shake his head and beg him "no, no please, I can take it, I'll be good!"
And good he was, taking everything Suguru gave to him without complaint. When Suguru worked him open with three fingers, he pulled them out and brought them to Satoru's lips, making him taste himself. Satoru opened eagerly, lapped at the digits, eyes clouded with lust. He was so obedient like this, nothing like the brat he usually was. He didn't even protest when Suguru pushed his robes aside to free his cock, way too massive for a hole this tight, and lazily jerked himself from base to tip, sitting back on his calves. He used his thumb to spread he pre gathering at the tip and rubbed it into his slit, down his shaft, covering himself in all the lubrication Satoru would get.
It was a well predicted move. Satoru might be wet, but not nearly slick enough. Suguru always liked some more resistance, something to push past before really pushing in and tearing. He had purposefully not quite stretched Satoru enough so it would feel better for Suguru.
For both of them.
Satoru always liked a little pain, liked when Suguru showed him how vulnerable he was underneath him. Only him. Suguru was the only one who ever got close to overpowering Satoru, back when they sparred, now that Satoru was following his every command. Because he wanted to. To be reminded that he, too, could hurt. Only with Suguru. Only with him. Because he knew Suguru would catch him when he fell. It would be no different with this. Later.
For now, Suguru was focused on shattering Satoru whole, the fat tip of his cock sliding in between his plumb folds and making Satoru whimper out his name. Suguru kissed him to shut him up, to reassure him. Then came his favourite part: Pushing in for the first time.
Suguru kept one hand on Satoru's waist to hold him stead while the other found his nape, pulling him close into a kiss that ended way sooner than Satoru would have liked but Suguru needed to see his face when he breached him open, needed to consume every little detail, soak them all up like a sponge.
White brows drawing together, spit-shiny lips parting in an airless gasp upon the first intrusion, the line of Satoru's throat tightening as he tilted his head back torn between looking at Suguru and letting his eyes fall close. His eyes. Cerulean pools that were lacking their usual shine. The crystal clarity sparkling inside of them was gone as they glazed over, just for a second, for as long as it took for Satoru's breath to hitch and get stuck in his chest, goosebumps covering his skin, the flush of his face spreading down his throat and chest, almost all the way to where Suguru's other hand was holding him down. Then, when he rocked his hips forward, thrusting in and cruelly burying himself to the hilt, those fantastic, beautiful, eternal eyes started flickering with a glow reserved for only the most cruel curses.
It was unmatched.
The sound that followed went straight to Suguru's rock hard cock, a broken, wavering moan that rang in his ears. Satoru sang as pretty as he looked, fingers desperately digging into Suguru's shoulders in search of purchase. Suguru barely felt it, too focused on the tight, tight walls clenching around him almost painfully. He liked it. Satoru's blunt nails in his skin, his muscles cutting off Suguru's blood flow. It was a thrill like no other to watch him lose control like this.
Satoru's eyes were glowing, cursed energy going haywire just like his pulse hammering underneath Suguru's fingers by the other's neck. Suguru pressed down a little harder and watched those pretty eyes roll back, a whimper dripping from Satoru's quivering lips. Suguru drank it up greedily, leaning in to nibble at Satoru's bottom lip. When he pulled back Satoru looked so out of it it could be seen as concerning and they have barely even started.
Another short rock of his hips made Suguru groan, Satoru clenching down so hard around him it almost hurt. And yet, he was getting wetter by the second. When Suguru pulled out, he could see it coating his length, alongside with a subdued, light crimson. He tilted his head, feigning innocence, and feigned a concerned voice.
"Oh no, look, you're bleeding."
It came out more like a purr. Satoru followed his call like a puppy, looking down at where Suguru was touching the mixture of blood and slick covering his shaft, rubbing the texture between his fingers. He could smell the iron, next to Satoru's own distinct smell, and he couldn't get enough of it. He brought his fingers to his lips and went for the taste of sin, ignoring how Satoru whined below him, urging Suguru to do something. All Suguru wanted was to do it again. Suguru's eyes darkened then and his voice dropped.
"Heal it."
He slid a hand over Satoru abdomen, his thumb stretching out to caress the hairless mound of his pussy, smooth for him, only for him. Satoru shook underneath the touch, tongue barely able to form proper words behind his teeth, slurring his name as if in vain.
"Suguru–"
Satoru shouldn't play coy now. They have been doing this so many times over the past decade, it should be a well known dance by now. Satoru liked it too, always acting like the virgin Suguru met him as when they were still teenagers. They were long beyond that now. Suguru had fucked Satoru in every position there was, had made him cum on his tongue and fingers and cock too many times too count and yet it would never be enough, not as long as they were still walking this world in different bodies, not until they would become one swallowed by the earth. Yet no matter how familiar Satoru's touch was, it always felt like they were fucking for the first time, if not for how well Suguru knew Satoru's body, what buttons to push, where to touch to make him unravel, what to say to drive him wild like he was the first to ever touch Satoru this way.
He knew it wasn't an act, not on Satoru's side. He really was this sensitive. With how helpless the man was about his own pleasure, he might as well be untouched. But Suguru knew. Of course he knew. He'd been the first one to push through infinity, so deep he became part of Satoru. And he'd be the last. He'd kill anyone who'd dare lay a finger on what was his. Satoru would always laugh at the claim, asking "did you forget who I am?" despite knowing damn well he'd never let anyone but a convicted curse user through his most powerful protective shield.
"Heal it," Suguru repeated, a demand now. He pressed his thumb into Satoru's hole, collecting some of his slick before moving to flick his clit with it, causing the man to throw back his head and moan out in pleasure, eyes fluttering as they struggled to keep open and focus on his technique. But Suguru basically saw it happen, the way his abdomen clenched as he stitched himself back together, brows pinching with the effort it took.
When he was done, Satoru sank into the tatami mats below him, boneless, so easy for Suguru to manhandle. He threw Satoru's legs over his shoulders and leaned forward, folding him up and stealing a kiss to muffle his screams as Suguru pushed back in, mercilessly, into the too tight heat.
Suguru broke his hymen again. If he could, he'd ask Satoru to use reverse cursed technique on every thrust so he could do it over and over and over again within seconds, but he knew Satoru couldn't hold up. Not because of cursed energy, he had infinite of that. But Satoru had a thing where it would go haywire and he had a hard time controlling it when he was feeling pleasure. Poor baby.
Satoru sniffled when Suguru shoved inside again, his cunt fluttering around him at the intrusion, trying to push him out, trying to keep him in. Tears rolled down Satoru's cheeks, making him look so much prettier than he usually did already, face flush the same pretty pink as his pussy, skin covered by salty wet streaks that Suguru licked away, a smirk tugging at his lips.
"Naw, did that hurt?" he mocked and Satoru whined, fingers flexing but unable to dig deeper into Suguru's back, his strength leaving him. Suguru knew he was being mean. Just because Satoru healed himself didn't mean he was less sensitive. He knew the other man was feeling every ridget and vein of his cock, every piercing running through the underside of it and grazing his tender walls on the inside. Suguru loved him like this.
All fucked out, a babbling, teary mess. He knew Satoru could take it. He always did. Because he was just as sick in the head as Suguru was and that's why they were still doing this in the first place, despite the stab through the heart that came after, despite knowing they were betraying their own ideals through their actions. But no one could give Suguru what Satoru could give him. And no one could fuck Satoru the way he did.
"You'll never stop being tight for me, now will you?"
Suguru started fucking him, preventing Satoru to properly voice his answer by setting a brutal pace from the start, fucking him stupid. He knew Satoru loved it. Suguru loved that he loved it. What an ego boost. What a way to feel powerful. He was a special grade, a wanted man, and still never did he feel as mighty as he did with Satoru hanging onto his neck and moaning out his name like it was his last prayer for solace.
"You'll always hug me tight, no?" Suguru asked, not a real question but he liked to run his mouth, knew it got Satoru going, if not by how he moaned like a bitch, then by how tight he got, how he lacked his usual filter when speaking.
"You're so big!"
"Shhhhh, it's okay. You'll get used to it."
With that Suguru meant he'd get used to the feeling of Suguru forcing him open, because his body sure wouldn't get used to it like this. It hadn't for the past ten years. There was no way it would now. Neither of them wanted it to.
They never knew when they would see each other again. It was agonising as much as it was an additional thrill, being unprepared for the moment to come. It made it so much hotter, their mutual desperation. The need to taste, to feel, to corrupt, in Suguru's case.
"Still the best pussy I've ever had," Suguru groaned as he fucked Satoru harder, loud enough for all his followers and subordinates to hear. They all should know what they were doing. Who Suguru worshipped. Love the strong. Meanwhile he had the strongest crying on his cock, creaming, Satoru's eyes rolling back into his head as he came with a high-pitched cry.
It made Suguru grunt, doubling over, bracing his forearms next to Satoru's head so he could pull him into a messy kiss made of tongue and teeth and spit that Satoru could barely reciprocate. A bead of sweat rolled down Suguru's back and his balls tightened. He was close as well.
He couldn't wait to fill Satoru up, to stuff him full until his seed dribbled out of his red and used hole for Satoru to clean up later, sent on his way marked from the inside out, aching for days because for this, Satoru did not use RCT. He liked the lingering ache between his legs, the marks covering his skin, a reminder that this, that they were real.
Suguru in return kept the long, deep scratches on his back, the greed eating him up from the inside out, the want to meet again soon, to see Satoru's pretty, tear filled eyes roll back and feel him clench around Suguru tighter than anyone else ever could.
"Suguru~!"
Satoru slurring his name in his post orgasmic, overstimulated delirium was what ultimately sent him over the edge. Another deep thrust, and Suguru was emptying himself inside of that tight, perfect cunt, lips seeking out his lover – he might even get a little sentimental just now. Maybe he was simply going crazy. Satoru Gojo did that to people. He'd never stop doing it to Suguru.
Lazy smacking noises of them kissing filled the room now, both of them trying to drag out the moment as much as possible. Suguru's cock twitched one last time before he pulled out, leaving Satoru a gaping mess on the mats. One last kiss and Suguru stood to adjust his robes, getting dressed properly for the function with his investors and worshippers that would be held just outside of this very room shortly. For now he felt cleansed of their presence but he couldn't help but feel they should have done this later, more unhurried, not urged by the power of lust but something else. He knew there wasn't any space in their lives for that.
There was the telltale movement of reversed cursed energy, the sound of shuffling clothes being put back on and light footsteps before Satoru left. Maybe one day, Suguru would have the nerve to ask him to stay. He knew Satoru waited for it. But Suguru wasn't able to take that final blow. Not quite yet.