Archive of Our Own

Nanami doesn’t remember how much time passed from the first time he slept at Gojo’s, probably because only overtime counts – for better or for worse.

It just happened one night not long ago and became a habit; Gojo’s house is practically at school, it was just convenient. 

Convenient, right.

Routine rarely hits hard, and he became a special creature of habit at jujutsu, at work, at life; routine was a downward spiral, dragging him to the lowest point of conscience. The ratio was always the same, how ironic. Familiarity, however, is another kind of danger, all dressed up in affection.  

“You have no sense of personal space.”

Satoru giggles. Could be a more effective scolding if they wouldn’t be naked in Satoru’s shower. Nanami does have a point, of course, but his flat expression lost all its pathos.

“Personal space seems to be overrated right now. Don’t you think, Nanamin?”

Before Nanami actually gets the chance to answer, he’s pushed against the cold wall and kissed right away. By instinct, he places both hands on Satoru’s hips and that’s why his miserable attempt to rebel against him fails – “Why are you doing this!?”

“Are you seriously asking?” Satoru arches an eyebrow, his wet white hair glued to his face and his pair of crystal blue eyes full of malice and desire – missions gets him horny, while Nanami’s only tired and disgusted by cursed blood all over him. It doesn’t seem to bother Gojo, and that’s even more creepy. 

Is it?

“No.”

And ignites, in some way, a little fire that burns right down his crotch. Nanami blinks, suddenly ashamed by his own devious thoughts; it’s not appropriate to find blood sexy on Satoru. Definitely not.

Isn’t it?

And yet, his cock twitches. Every part of his body is familiar with Satoru’s touch and responds to it. Nanami sighs, knowing Satoru sure as hell noticed that. In fact, one of his hands sinuously slides between his legs and cups his balls while he starts kissing his neck, slowly going up to his lips again. Satoru pulls back smirking as soon as Nanami tilts his head and parts his lips. “Now you want to kiss me?”

Nanami frowns, but Satoru’s hand suddenly holding his cock makes him sigh. 

“Come on, ask nicely.”

Hot water pours all over them yet Nanami shivers a little bit when Satoru starts stroking his cock, adding a little pressure when he reaches the tip before going down his length again.

“Ask nice–”

Missions might get Gojo horny but Nanami’s tired of that shit, and yes, he wants a kiss so he goes straight for it; he grabs Satoru’s neck and kisses him unceremoniously, pulling him closer and feeling Satoru’s erection against his stomach. He’s more than pleased by Nanami’s behavior, and shows it by wasting no time to pump their cocks together with both hands. It doesn’t take much time before Satoru meows on his lips, especially when Nanami’s hands trace all the lines of his body, washing away blood, dirt, and his own shyness. Gojo has the great ability to drag him out of his ordinary life; it’s often uncomfortable and overwhelming, but all the great things come with a hint of distress. Like giving in a little.

Like letting go of a stressful day, frotting in the shower, licking and biting and sucking Satoru’s jaw, neck, chest while they both thrust in Satoru’s hands, feeling each other's hardness, literally touching each other's lust.

This. This is the intimacy he earns from coming back up to something known. Familiar. 

Anyway, he doesn’t know Satoru planned to fuck him but he’s clearly over the edge of his own orgasm when he moans loud with his mouth pressed on Kento’s cheek. Perhaps a quicker relief is not bad at all, and he bets Kento is of the same advice when he pants and squeezes hard his asscheks.

Actually, he knows better – he lets a finger slide in Gojo’s ass and when he feels no resistance, a second one follows, stealing an obscene sound from Gojo’s mouth.

“Yeah babe,” he whispers, “F-Fuck, ah!”

Gojo’s grip tightens around their throbbing and rubbing cocks, and Nanami groans, looking for Gojo’s mouth to hide his own shame in a desperate kiss – nonetheless, he curls his fingers inside him, pressing on the sweet spot that makes Gojo shiver and roll his eyes. “Kento,” he whines, “I-I’m close… I’m so–ah, so close!” 

Nanami can’t tell if his vision is blurred by pleasure or steam, the air is impossibly hot and the vision of Gojo’s face reddened and wet is breathtaking – he’s the most mischievous and beautiful creature he has ever seen, and he fucks him with his fingers knuckle-deep in his ass to gain another lustful expression, to steal another filthy moan from him, to see his eyes rolling again, to have him franctically thrusting and grinding until his body trembles as he comes. So, Nanami pushes his finger deeper inside him.

Gojo’s orgasm is dragging his own release. Like always, Gojo leads the way to everything nasty and, Nanami would never admit aloud, fun. Good. Okay, fucking good, since Gojo doesn’t stop stroking his cock, actually he only intensified the rhythm when Nanami’s fingers digged into his skin.

“Satoru…”

“Mm, let me know when you’re about to come.”

“I-I’m…”

Gojo kneels instantly and opens his mouth, pressing his tongue to the base of Nanami’s cock, so that he does not stop pumping harder and faster, especially when both Nanami’s hands gently stroke his hair. When he feels the desperate pull, he licks Nanami’s length to replace his hand with his mouth.

“Oh fuck!” Nanami’s low voice breaks, he only fucks Satoru’s face for a few seconds before coming down his throat.

All that heat was too good, now he’s dizzy and can’t breathe, sliding down the shower’s wall. He only wakes up from his trance when he hears Satoru’s choking sounds, forgetting his own pleasure for his sake and tenderly holding Satoru’s face.

“Are you okay?”

Satoru nods, swallows, and although panting he smiles. “All good,” he whispers before licking Nanami’s cum away from his lips and savoring it, “Sweet as usual.”

“Can we take a shower in peace now?”

“You just said ‘WE’?! Awww!”

“Look, you’re already here…”