Archive of Our Own

Satoru always finds himself running away from something at some point.

It's not his fault he's been sheltered all of his life, leading to the inevitable outcome of his avoidance. It's not the attachment type, it's just a test he always falls back to whenever he feels… Weird. The type of weirdness that has no name but settles uncomfortably in between your lungs and your stomach, swirling and trying to cumulate into one definitive thing but separating the moment the thing starts to actually meet in the centre. It doesn't feel good, heck, it's probably the worst thing that Satoru has ever experienced, but it's always just… There. Lingering, waiting, building but always staying in that middle that just happened to be too little, too much. All at the same fucking time.

It was a hot, summer day. The sun was blazing down his neck as he strutted across the street, hands dug into his sorcerer's jacket. His blindfolded eyes continuously scans the surroundings, as if he hasn't been here dozens of times before, terrain familiar yet dazzled with a whole bunch of new changes. Such as the rock that has moved three centimetres away from it's original position, likely from an unbothered citizen of everyday society, or a hurried person trying to get to their interview on time, or a child running without a care in the world.

He's exhausted. He's just so— So fucking tired that all he wants to do is lie in his bed. The same bed that he only spends three hours in. It's just one of those days where he allows himself to wallow in his own loneliness, just for a little while. It usually happened on days where he would be alone, timetabled with solo missions and no classes, left alone with the humour of his wallowing self-pity and no one to speak his self-degradation to.

Nobody would believe the strongest had cracks, really. If a pillar is found to have a cracked base, no one would use it anymore. That's why he's filled those cracks with cement, patched it completely up and presented it as good as new, even if the cement was too watery and washed away with one round of rain. It was like the Myth of Sisyphus— What if he tried to build a new society, a stronger base, only for it to amount to… Nothing.

Well, the days of silence is that patching up. Of his experience with dealing with the cracks, fixing them so that he can be as good as new. Tomorrow, it'll be as though nothing happened. He'll just be the same old Teacher Gojo. Or annoying ass. One or the other, really.

A buzz of his phone in his pocket.

Maybe he has to speed up the process tenfold before talking to anybody.

Still, he fishes out his phone, turns it on and reads the following messages.

Unknown: You're nearby. I can sense your presence from a mile away.

Unknown: There's a hotel to your right. Meet me there at 10pm.

Satoru hates how he knows exactly who this is.

He hates how he knows he'll show up, even if he spends the day thinking anything but. He imagines scenarios in which he didn't fall for honeyed words and orders that don't give way for disobedience, even if he knows he can be good. He imagines where he just says 'go fuck yourself' and leaves, strutting out with the air of saying the most powerful line he could think of.

He just hates it. And yet he can't help but love it at the same time.

It was just a day like this. But instead of the gloom that hung over Satoru's head, his cheeks had lingering baby fat and his eyes still glowed with the secrets of youth, sparkling just as bright as the blue irises he was born with. A curse he had originally thought, but somebody had turned that negative energy into positive, and now he thinks it was a curse in disguise, to make way for a blessing.

He's sixteen. And beside him is Suguru Geto.

"Too hot!" Satoru complains, drinking his soda whilst leaning behind, walking forward obnoxiously. Suguru has his hands dug in his pockets, sniggering at the exaggerated walk. "What! It's true!"

"I believe you, Satoru." Suguru says sweetly, narrowly dodging a flick to his forehead. "Never mind, you're giving me every reason not to."

"I was just joking!" Satoru huffs, tossing his now-empty can into a nearby trashcan. "You love me, don't you?" He flutters his lashes behind his glasses, looking into Suguru's eyes.

Suguru just flips him off with his middle finger, and Satoru feigns a wounded noise, before walking beside him as if nothing had ever happened.

His mouth doesn't seem to get the tranquility of a simple walk as this, though. His mind may be whirring with life with the aide of sugar, but that also means that his brain simply doesn't have enough power to regulate his speech, or his movement. So he says something before he has time to think about it.

"You do love me, right?"

Suguru doesn't pause his walking, but Satoru can tell he wasn't expecting it. His eyebrow is slightly raised, glancing towards Satoru's direction, before looking straight ahead.

"It's… Complicated."

Complicated was the best way they could put it. It's 2006, they couldn't really, actually love each other. Society's rules, the way they could literally die if they pushed this any further.

Unless…

"But you would, right?"

More silence. More feet pressing against gravel. More sun burning it's rays into their skin, licking the backs of their necks and leaving behind microscopic tears that dig into their skin quietly. The tears manifest as burns, chafing smooth skin, skin cells whirring with their cycle of growth to repair what was once broken. Mend it back into what it used to be, unbroken skin.

"I would." Suguru doesn't stop moving, so Satoru knows he's serious. He doesn't usually stop in shock, or to process Satoru's wild sayings, he just speaks his own mind. His own honest truth to Satoru's unintentional probing.

This is as close to a confession as they'll ever get.

"Me too," Satoru says, "If you were wondering." He quickly follows up, earning a soft laugh from Suguru's lips.

From then on, it's truly silent. They both bask in silence, the bliss of unknowing.

They don't talk about that ever again. Not anymore.

Satoru would say that he's glad the sun is gone. He hates the way that he always forgets to apply sunscreen, and then hates it even more that he has to bear the rays of sunlight boring down onto his skin. Hate is a strong word, he amends in his mind, let's go with… dislike, he finishes lamely.

Electromagnetic rays can travel through vacuums. It's no wonder they can bypass Infinity, the barrier finding it's true weakness.

If somebody were to have a Cursed Technique which allowed them to wield electromagnetic waves, Satoru honestly thinks he might be fucked. Then again, this is all just theory and speculation — he doesn't truly know whether or not it's true. All he can go on is experience and the evidence it provides, and the fact that he is the Strongest and nobody with that Cursed Technique should ever live, actually.

But he doesn't think about that. Not when he's standing right outside of the room number 725.

Suguru thinking he can have his way with him, how daft! Satoru is more than that, more than just something that Suguru can toy and play with whenever he wants. But he knows Satoru would listen to his call, always being a mere text away.

Satoru knocks on the door a few times, his chin tucked into the neck of his jacket.

The door swings open after a few seconds, and with it, he sees Suguru, dressed in a silk robe. He's got a gentle smile on his face, no doubt the same one he uses when he's leading his army for his cause. Or cult. Satoru never thought about the specifics, his mind always stayed on Suguru. That's what you're supposed to do when you're 'investigating' the enemy, right? You dote and admire their face and all aspects about them, and then feedback with 'progress has been going great' when all you've learned is that you want to be bent over by said person. Satoru has done that. More times than he's willing to admit.

"You came." Suguru says, moreso a statement than a remark of surprise. He makes way for Satoru to come inside, closing the door behind him.

Usually Suguru would be on him by now. Hot, messy, desperately kissing him as they stumble their way to the bed. He would strip Satoru of his clothes, whisper his worship to his body, then fuck him as if he has a cause he wants to prove. As if he is the only one who could do this to him, drown him in pleasure and make him so light-headed that all he can do is gasp and moan.

But that… Isn't happening.

Satoru sits down on the bed, taking off his jacket and keeping his compression shirt on. It was his base layer, easy to wear and manoeuvre in whenever he had to. The jacket was always on anyway, it's not like anybody would notice the shirt. He already gets enough looks on the street as is. Usually he'd own up to it, but not today.

Except Suguru. Suguru always saw the shirt before he peeled it off his body.

"What's wrong?" Satoru is the first to ask, looking up at Suguru still standing near the entrance. Quiet, calculating, uncomfortable. It makes Satoru shift, straighten his back just that little more, curling his fingers over themselves in his lap. That same gaze also seems to fuel the uncomfort in the middle of his abdomen too, and now he has a brief idea of just teleporting away.

"Strip." Suguru orders, completely avoiding Satoru's question and getting straight to it. But it seems it was taking a different tone this time.

But Satoru stands his ground, no longer willing to run away. Not now, not when Suguru is right there. "What's wrong?" he asks again, "I'm not doing anything until you—"

"Do I have to repeat myself?" Suguru cuts him off sharply. This was the usual game they played, a tug and pull, a probe and reaction, until the other got too emotional or too frustrated that they end the game.

Usually Satoru is the first one to crack. It seems this time, Suguru was the one breaking.

Satoru shakes his head mutely, hands holding onto the hem of his shirt before taking it off, pale skin exposed to the sanitized air of the hotel room. It doesn't hold the usual scent of home, or Suguru, just the lingering presence of somebody cleaning up the room for Satoru and Suguru to stay in before they vacate in the morning.

Suguru leans against the edge of the wall, arms crossed. Satoru looks at him expectantly, tilting his head to the side. Suguru shoots a glance to his trousers, still very much on Satoru's body and not off. It's quickly gone, though, and all that's left on his body is his boxers, the fabric straining with his boner.

"You look better with no clothes." Suguru muses, removing the thin silk robe until his chest was peeing through. There's a very visible scar ingrained on his skin, resembling an X on his chest. X marks the spot, and below it, Satoru would find his treasure.

It could also resemble the sheer effect of their crumbling youth on his body. Or it could represent the how he's exiled from the rest of the Jujutsu world, bearing the mark physically to wake up to that reminder every single day. Would Suguru look at the lines every day he wakes up, being reminded of his blue spring with Satoru, of everything that just happened to follow after?

Suguru is standing in front of Satoru before he knows it, and Satoru instinctively brings his hands up to trace the scar, eyes roving over his tanned skin as he's done many, many times before.

"You do too, actually." Satoru breathes, leaning into Suguru's palm, which scratches at his nape and feels the short hairs that cover the back of his head. He still has no idea whether Suguru likes the undercut or not— It could just be him mourning the loss of the hairs that grew there, or he could just be feeling Satoru up, indulging in a simple touch.

That touch isn't simple, though. It's something that only Suguru is allowed to do, no one else could touch him like this.

"You also look pretty like this," Suguru sighs, "Beneath me." He guides Satoru's head to his dick, letting Satoru breathe into his groin, before he's pulling down his pants and licking messily at his boxers, coating the fabric with wetness as he moans. It just taste of fibres and cotton, yet he picks up the faintest trace of Suguru's musk and precome, which is more than enough for him to lavish over his covered cock.

Yet Suguru isn't happy with his drooling mouth lavishing over his dick like it's a meal. He fists Satoru's hair, pulls his head away just enough to push his boxers down, showing Satoru's true desire right before his eyes.

He lets him feel it, too, tapping the tip against his lips, a silent order for Satoru to open his lips. Satoru easily obeys, mouth parting and waiting for Suguru's command. For Suguru's actions.

When Suguru sinks into his mouth, his mind is pleasantly blanked out, filling with thoughts of Suguru's thick, perfect dick sitting on his tongue. He moans as it carves it's way deeper, intruding on Satoru's lungs by pushing against the back of his throat. It's only when he starts to choke that Suguru pulls away to provide him room to breathe, to cough into the air briefly before opening his mouth once again for Suguru to use.

It's this give and take that is embedded in their bones, how Suguru is so eager to give Satoru his dick, and how Satoru matches him in how much he wants it.

It hurts how badly he wants it. He craves it just as much as he wants Suguru by his side.

The first time they engage in this dance was when they were both 21.

Satoru was helplessly drunk, bearing the weight of sadness on a random Tuesday. He was still figuring out just how to deal with it, trying to come up with the formula for the correct cement he should use when repairing the useless cracks in his foundation. He doesn't recall exactly how it happened, only that his veins were singing to life with Suguru as he heard his voice echo through his phone.

"Satoru…" And it sounded like Suguru was about to hang up on him. That causes his veins to shut up almost immediately, leaving their ode in the dust in favour of keeping Suguru.

"Don't leave." Satoru hiccuped, clutching his liquor close to his chest as he sits on his bed, looking out of the window to look at the moon. He wondered if Suguru was looking right now with him, and if Suguru were here beside him, he would compliment the gentle rays that cast faint shadows over the bedsheets. He did that a lot when they were young.

"Where are you?" Suguru asked.

"Nunya business." Satoru grumbled. It is your business, please come and find me.

"You're making it my business by calling me." Suguru stated, and Satoru offers a short laugh at his tone change. If they were together in person, he could imagine the exact movement of Suguru face-palming to Satoru's stupidity.

That was the first time he felt tears choke up in the depths of his throat. He digs the heel of his palm into his eyes, fighting off the tears that threatened to escape. He doesn't like this feeling, he just wants it gone and away from his body so that he can perfectly articulate his words to Suguru. There was no such thing as tears in his book, no such thing as crying. He doesn't cry.

Yet the tears still leak on the bottom of his eyes, stuck in limbo between not coming out and fully releasing themselves down onto Satoru's cheeks. It made his vision blurry, but he could still see everything, just as clear as day.

"…Where are you?" Satoru sniffled in the clearest tone he could muster.

"Nowhere you need to know." Suguru replied, a hint of sympathy in his tone betraying his true feelings. Let me come find you, Suguru. I would find you if you let me.

"I really want to see you right now." Satoru continues, his speech slurred through his drunkenness.

He didn't hear Suguru utter any response to that. Or maybe he did, the memory is too elusive for him to truly tell. All he knew is that soon enough, Suguru had climbed into his room through his opened window, and turned to face Satoru for the first time in years.

Satoru had no way of conveying his feeling. He stumbled up onto his feet and kissed Suguru messily, conveying whatever he had felt in that one, single kiss.

Love, lust, sadness, anger, regret. All emotions that collided and mixed, even if these emotions weren't able to mix. They were like oil and water, simply too different to manifest as the same liquid.

Still, he channels all of it into his kiss, pulling Suguru down onto the bed, and Suguru has him pinned on the sheets with practised ease.

There's jealousy there, too. How he must've done this with other people before Satoru.

He was never his first.

The collision of their bodies against the bed causes the bottle of alcohol to tip over, spilling it's contents onto the sheets. Suguru scrambles to pick it up, placing it hastily on his bedside table before he looks at the stained mess.

"Did anyone ever tell you not to put drinks on your bed?" Suguru asked quietly, nuzzling his nose into Satoru's neck, breathing in his scent. "You reek of alcohol."

"No shit." Satoru scowled, but he immediately reigned it in. He was truly a mess right now. "I'm sorry. I missed you."

Suguru doesn't say it back.

He just conveyed his message through the way he takes Satoru's virginity, sweet at the beginning, rough in the middle, caring at the end. He fucks into Satoru's pliant body, whispers sweet nothings into his skin, looks into his brilliant blue eyes as he does so. It seemed as if Suguru was just… Unable to look away.

By the end of it, Satoru was really crying. He didn't know whether he was crying because of the onslaught of pleasure, or the fact that he was just really fucking emotional— But there were tears. And then there was Suguru, cupping his cheek and wiping them away, eyes filled with an emotion that Satoru can't seem to name. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was pity. But Suguru kissed and wiped his tears away, let him vent his frustration before he made love to him once more, whispering every compliment under the sun, every unsaid word that he never had the chance to say before. Maybe that emotion was… Love.

They fucked against the bed, against the couch, on top of the kitchen counter, on the bathroom sink— Everywhere. Satoru begged for more, Suguru begged for just as much. They both needed each other that could only be described as carnal, taking pieces of each other in every way possible so that their bodies were imprinted with the mark of each other. The claim of another singing just underneath their skin, visible through the pores and can only be touched by the other.

Satoru was fucked out and dazed, staring up into his ceiling thinking there were stars on it. Or maybe it was his spotty vision. Or he was thinking of the time where he and Suguru placed tiny stickers on top of his ceiling when they were in the dorms, which had glowed in the night. They both went 'star-gazing' the night they finished their mural, pointing out patterns of stars they made and the silly faces that they stuck on.

Then they went actual star-gazing on Suguru's manta ray, whilst looking up at the sky. Satoru had his head laying on Suguru's chest, looking up at the sky and pointing at the stars that only seemed to grow in numbers the more they looked.

Satoru felt like crying again at the memory. He felt like crying at everything.

Suguru was there to hold him as he came down. It was clear that he had to go soon, the sun eager and waiting to reveal itself and to ruin their night of respite and peace. They were both resting in a guest bedroom, to save themselves from the mess they made on Satoru's actual bed.

"Don't go." Satoru begs, hoisting his tired body up so that he was straddling Suguru's legs, gliding his half-hard dick to his sore hole. "Please."

"Satoru—" Suguru chokes, hands holding onto his hips, letting out a moan as Satoru sinks down to his home. That was the feeling, that he wasn't able to name. It was like coming home.

Satoru rides him with his weak legs, and Suguru thrusts up into him to make up for his lack of strength. They made love like that once more, before letting their weary bodies rest, having exhausted every sexual option they could have.

By the time Satoru wakes, Suguru is gone.

Yet when he feels like crying, nothing comes out of his eyes.

That was the last night he was able to cry. Now, when the feeling builds, it never overflows into tears. It just stays lodged in between his eyes, only coming out when it's Suguru's hands that are coaxing it out of him.

His body learned to cry the night it learned Suguru's message. There was no way he could unlearn that message, his lack of tears and lack of Suguru serving testament to that very statement.

"You can take it." Suguru groans, tipping his head back as he slowly starts rocking his hips in Satoru's mouth. It's hot and wet, suctioning his dick and keeping it warm in the depths of his throat. "There you go, so good for me, aren't you?" He moans, biting down on his bottom lip as Satoru gags around his length.

There's no way he's able to take it all, that was simply not possible. Yet, with the way Suguru moulds his jaw, manoeuvres his head so that he can accompany his thick dick, he thinks it is very possible. In fact, his lips scratch against the base, and he really does start choking then, which warrants Suguru to pull away just enough so that he can breathe.

"Too much?" Suguru murmurs, and Satoru shakes his head. It's not enough.

He chokes on his cock once more, taking the length more and more, as much as Suguru wants him to. Satoru relishes in the moans that are torn from his mouth, alongside the mindless praise of him being so good at this. He knows whatever he does will please Suguru one way or another, and seeing him crumble just like this is more than enough for Satoru. He could spend the entire night giving head to Suguru, strut up into Jujutsu High with the scratchiest through of his life, and he'd own up to it. Because it's Suguru's mark on him, isn't it?

Suguru does take back control, however. He starts rocking his hips inside his mouth, holding onto the top of his head, gripping white strands. Satoru clutches Suguru's thighs, holding onto his flesh tightly as he wills his mouth to stay open for as long as he possibly can. His lungs burn with the need to take in air, yet he still stays open, his eyes looking up at Suguru as if he is the only one who can do this to him.

Because he is. It's the truth that Satoru knows of.

"So pretty, taking cock like this." Suguru coos in between harsh pants and whimpers, patting his cheek lightly before tracing his bottom lip with his tongue. "Do you know how pretty you look like this?"

Satoru just stares up at him dumbly, trying to shake his head as best as he can. He's been complimented hundreds of times, yet all of those compliments combined don't add to a single one of Suguru's.

He'd spend all of his wealth just to hear Suguru compliment him once again.

"Come on, ease up." Suguru says, really holding Satoru's mouth in place, truly making him pliant in his touch. "I'm gonna use you now, okay?"

Tap three times to stop me.

It was their safe word. They agreed upon it the first time Satoru gave head to Suguru. It was stupidly messy, Satoru was gagging all over Suguru's cock, choking and coughing more than he was actually sucking—

Yet Suguru still came, still moaned his name as if it was too good for him, that having Satoru choking and crying was the best thing he's experienced in his life.

Suguru pulls back about half of his cock, before thrusting back in with one smooth glide. The moments he pulls away are chances for Satoru to catch his breath before he's choking on Suguru once more, moaning when his entire dick is inside once more.

He loves it, how heavy it feels in his mouth. The precome that smears in his throat, stray drops coating the muscle of his tongue when Suguru pulls back. It's all he can smell, taste, hear, see— He's completely overwhelmed with Suguru that he can't think of anything else.

His thrusts become more erratic the more Suguru abuses his poor throat, moans becoming louder in volume, and he has to use two hands to grip Satoru's head. Satoru is so painfully hard that it hurts, bringing one of his hands down to palm his dick, rutting his hips up into his hand whilst trying to keep his head as still as he can be.

With the way Suguru was moving, he wouldn't be surprised if he came anytime soon. Please, please come quickly. I need you inside of me.

"I'm close." Suguru grits out, and Satoru makes a helpless noise, which only seems to aide in Suguru's pleasure. "Think you can take it?" He asks, even though he knows the answer to that question. Satoru can take anything Suguru is willing to give him.

It's honestly like throwing a piece of meat to a stray dog, watching it consume it greedily before waiting for more. Suguru offers Satoru the meat, and Satoru takes it gratefully every single time.

"Fuck," Suguru pants harshly, tipping his head back as he pulls out so that his tip was in Satoru's mouth, jerking the rest of his cock off to paint his insides with white. "Take it. Take my cum, baby." He moans, as Satoru suckles on the tip to help coax out his cum, watching the way Suguru cries out in the height of his orgasm. He doesn't even pay attention to his own dick anymore, both of his hands on Suguru's hips as he whines at the salty taste permeating his tongue.

Suguru eventually pulls away, but not before he grips Satoru's jaw, using his other hand to tug his mouth open to see his spend inside.

It was pooling in the ridges of Satoru's teeth, smeared completely across his tongue and mixing with saliva that built whilst he was choking on Suguru's dick.

"Swallow."

Satoru does. He makes a face at the taste, but Suguru is kissing it away before he can really bring himself to care.

"Good boy." Suguru offers a bit of a praise when he pulls away, and Satoru just raises an eyebrow, a smile on his face.

"Best head of your life, wasn't it?" Satoru croaks, voice very clearly abused and raw.

"Sure." Suguru hums dismissively. "Turn around."

Satoru makes a wounded noise at that, but he does turn around, his ass still covered with his boxers.

Suguru's fingers trace the waistband, tugging it back and letting it snap against Satoru's skin when he releases his hold. Satoru whimpers a little at the sudden pressure, before it's completely gone when Suguru strips the cloth away.

"So pretty." Suguru breathes, eyes roving over Satoru's form. His back is arched, arms hanging loosely above his head, eyes shining with tears that are threatening to spill. "Beautiful." He murmurs, bringing his head down so that he was planting kisses into his lower back, hands kneading the flesh of his ass. He pushes his cheeks together before spreading them apart, stretching his tight hole in the process. "You're meant to be underneath me, aren't you?" He asks, his breath now lightly fanning over Satoru's hole. It causes him to clench and choke, a soft mewl falling from his lips as he presses his ass back up to his face. "Relax, baby." He whispers, pressing the softest kiss to his twitching rim, letting out a soft huff of laughter as Satoru buries his face into the pillow once more.

"Hurry up." Satoru whines, hands clenching his pillow as he spreads his legs a little more, his dick hanging heavy and useless in between his legs. Precome trickles out of the tip, forming a wet spot on the sheets, which will be gone once they both leave this room. Cleaned and stripped away. "Don't tease."

"Let me have this." Suguru replies, the tip of his tongue peeking out to circle his hole, before slowly starting to thrust the muscle inside. Satoru instantly has a full-body reaction to that, body shuddering and legs tensing, a strangled gasp falling from his lips as Suguru continues to lick inside.

He can barely speak after that, rimming was always insanely pleasurable for him. "S— Suguru." He chokes, "I'm— Oh fuck, S'guru." He can't help his moans, he can never stop them. The most he can do is muffle them into his pillow, causing it to become hot and wet with his breath. "Mmh!"

Suguru continuously licks inside, paving his way into Satoru's asshole with his tongue. If it was longer, Satoru swears he would be able to come from just from Suguru eating him out, grazing his prostate each time he would mouth at his hole. Instead, Suguru makes up for the lack of prostate-massaging with the way he eats him out, kissing and making out filthily with his hole, tongue thrusting as deep as it can go with a rhythm, causing Satoru to roll his hips back with each thrust. It's good, it's just too good that Satoru can't help but curse into the pillow at each time Suguru thrusts in.

"Satoru." Suguru groans, "Pass me the lube." He holds his hand out expectantly, and Satoru has to blink out of the pleasant haze in order to comply with the command.

Satoru fumbles, leans over the bed to grab his discarded trousers, fishing his pockets for a lube bottle. When he grabs it, he throws it blindly towards where Suguru is, hears the lid being uncapped and the faint squirt of the liquid being secreted by the bottle. There's a brief slick noise of it being warmed, supposedly with Suguru's fingers, before the lukewarm finger pads are rubbing against his pink hole.

"Please." Satoru begs instinctively, his mouth speaking before his brain can stop him. I need you so, so bad. "Just wanna come." He hiccups, pressing his ass back to try and entice Suguru into touching him, fucking him and making him come just like the stars above intended or whatever. "Waited— Waited too long for this." I waited too long for you.

Satoru lets out a soft cry as Suguru's index pushes in, plunging his mind into a pleasant fuzz of static noise once more.

The first time they had met up was for straight-to-the-point sex. There was barely any foreplay, just a whole bunch of Suguru's dick in Satoru's asshole until he could barely feel his lower back, just had his veins thrumming with the claim of Suguru imprinted so deeply into his skin that it felt like it was changing his bone structure.

Scratch the word sex, it was love making.

Suguru had made such sweet love to Satoru that there was no way he would be able to sleep with anyone else ever again, and it didn't help that Suguru was Satoru's first. There was no possible way he could learn another when it was Suguru who held his virginity, crushed it with his palm and planted the pieces as kisses onto Satoru's body in the form of his reddened kisses and purple bites.

So the next time they met, there's a lot more structure to it. There's no drunken calls, no Satoru crying for Suguru, it was just a simple text message and response.

Well, Satoru had hoped they would've gone straight to the fucking. He was so damn tired, that ache residing just as deep in the same place Suguru had left his mark on. Except, this tiredness was recent, more fresh than the claim. It had been a few months since they last saw each other.

"Suguru." Satoru breathed when he saw him, peeling off his blindfold so that Suguru could see his eyes. The discomfort didn't matter when Suguru was able to peer into his eyes and read all of the emotions his words couldn't seem to convey.

"Satoru." Suguru returned, looking a lot more powerful under the hotel light. He had seen him in the gentle haze of his lamp, saw the way the light curled around his body instead of cowered behind him, like it does now. "Long time no see."

"Mhm." Satoru nodded his head briefly, and he now thought about leaving and never coming back. This was just, way too awkward for him. There was no possible way he could think about getting inside Suguru's pants if this was how they were going to talk to each other after years of not meeting.

Except, Suguru removed any possibility of talking, because he had Satoru pinned against the wall, kissing him filthily to replace any of his doubtful thoughts with his name. Satoru returned those kisses just as greedily, and it devolved from that single kiss once more.

Suguru sucks on his dick, licked the tip like a lollipop and utilizing his no gag reflex to truly overwhelm Satoru with pleasure. Then he had Satoru's chest pressed against the wall, hips tugged outward so that he could rim him for the first time, making him come all over the wall with a shout when his fingers joined his tongue. His mind was already swimming by the time Suguru came home, fucking him up against the wall and having him release his load on the stained wall once again.

However, Suguru is a lot more meaner than last time. It was like he was trying to stop himself from being sweet, from treating the Strongest like something to be cherished. Instead, it had just seemed like an exchange of pleasure between two people. And it was supposed to be exactly like that — they were only here to feel good.

Yet it also made Satoru overwhelmingly miserable.

Each time he came (and dry after a few more times, his cock could barely dribble out cum by the time they were done), he was starkly reminded of his unbearable loneliness. He yearned for connection that only Suguru was able to give him. Yet, he barely got enough of Suguru to sustain himself.

"Suguru," Satoru sobbed after Suguru had wrung out another dry orgasm. "Please, I can't—"

I can't live without you.

"I know, Satoru." Suguru leaned forward to pepper soft kisses to his cheek, contrasting his mean grip on his hips, his hand prints already marred into his ruined skin. Does he really know? Does he know that I want him? "This is the last one. You can do one more for me, can't you?"

"That's— Oh!" Satoru can't even protest to Suguru's words, it wasn't what he meant. He wanted to tell, to say Suguru exactly how he felt but his body couldn't keep up with his racing mind. "I'm— I can't—" He fully broke down then, a puddle of cum and arousal on the bed.

"I have you," Suguru whispered, coming deep inside of Satoru once more, filling him up and staking a claim once more on his ruined body. There's no need. My soul belongs to you already. "Fuuck, so good for me, isn't that right?"

Satoru nodded his head dumbly, a final shudder coursing through his body before he's out. His eyes stared to the side of the room, looking through the window to see the night sky outside. Sunset would be upon them soon.

Suguru made sure to gently clean Satoru, holding him up in the bath and scooping out his cum from his leaking hole, kissing over harsh bite marks and reddened grip imprints with such care that Satoru can feel his heart beat catching in his throat.

This was the gentleness that he missed. The sweet caress of Suguru's hands, the skin-to-skin contact, their synchronized breaths— This was what he needed. It wasn't a desire, it was a necessity.

"Don't go," Satoru whispered into Suguru's neck, lukewarm water encasing their bodies. They had been soaking in the bath for half an hour now, it was time to get out. "Please."

Suguru made a strange face to Satoru's pleads, looking down at Satoru with a mix of emotions that his Six Eyes couldn't decipher, neither could his heart.

"You know I have to." Suguru replied, his hand resting atop of Satoru's abdomen, stroking the skin in the water. "You're asking for something I can't give."

"What if you could come back?" Satoru had asked, more eager than he intended to let upon. It was too unrealistic, Suguru's ideals would never match with the world, yet he had to try. "I'm… Building a new society. You know. Or, at least I'm trying too. It's hard to juggle teaching and missions. If you came back then that would be, amazing, and you could help me change the world. Isn't that what you're doing? We could really make a difference—"

Suguru had shut his rambling up with a sweet, gentle kiss.

Satoru cupped his cheek, pulling his head closer so that they could kiss longer, kiss more and more to delay their impending departure. Who knew how long Satoru would have to wait to see Suguru again?

"I'd love to see the world you build." Suguru whispers when they part, whilst also signalling an end to their conversation. They get out of the tub, dried their bodies with fresh towels, before they saved any person's job of cleaning their filthy sheets by stripping the bed themselves.

It's so sickly domestic how much Satoru had laughed when they engaged in a brief pillow fight, letting him fall victim to an unrealistic dream when Suguru had quickly kissed him before dressing the bed in new sheets. They kissed some more once they were on the bed, just as the sun came up in the window.

He imagines a distant life where he and Suguru are lying down in bed together. They had just finished a day of respective work, maybe Satoru was looking into astrophysics instead of keeping the entire world safe. Maybe he taught his students the wonders of the stars, sharing his own secret passions, bringing them in to the endless bouts of knowledge that he possesses in his mind. Suguru would be a teacher, too.

The field? He isn't so sure of himself. Maybe philosophy, or psychology, or political science. But he knows that he would be a teacher too, and a well-known researcher of whatever field he chose to go in. He'd be calm, collected, yet brimming with the wonderful energy of his own knowledge, that same energy that Satoru would have when he teaches his students.

And when they come home, they meet each other with a kiss. And then a hi, hello, how are you, how was work, all questions to make sure that the other was okay. Maybe it was mundane talk, but it would be so sweet, to hear Suguru's day every day. Some people don't realise how much they have until they've lost it, huh?

And then they have their dinner, with both of them cooking in the kitchen, laughing at stories they have yet to share with each other, focusing when the dish is at the crux of its making. Once they've eaten it, probably with some random nature documentary playing in the background, they would kiss and kiss as they make their way to the bedroom, make love for many rounds, before their exhausted bodies would lie down next to each other.

Then they would kiss each other silly as they come down, too lazy to clean up and vowing to do that in the morning, when they both have slept eight whole hours together. They would still be kissing even as they come down, no words being said other than the silent promise lingering in the space between them.

I love you.

"What do you say?" Satoru breathes after a while, his tired body resisting any chance of sleeping so he could focus on Suguru. To keep him in his memory for just a little longer.

Suguru just shakes his head, pressing a kiss to his forehead before closing his eyes, so that they could get a little sleep before they had to leave.

"I just can't be there for the world you build." Satoru had heard Suguru say when he left in the morning.

He knows that. Yet he still allowed his heart to sink back into his stomach, and this time, he promised himself to never take it out.

If Suguru had wanted his heart, he would have to stick his hand down his throat to obtain it. Satoru wasn't going to do that job for him now, he runs the risk of choking himself and dying every time he does so.

Satoru throws his head back when Suguru's fingers push against his prostate, two digits now working him open and making him feel too good to be true. His hips push back against his fingers, even if his arms are too shaky to hold his upper body up.

"So pretty." Suguru breathes as he watches Satoru crumble in real time. He presses a kiss to his yielding rim, watching it stretch open for him in real time. "Baby, baby."

Satoru jerks from Suguru's hold when his fingertips dig into his sweetest spot, pinching the flesh ever so slightly to send sparks up his spine. Suguru has such skill with his fingers that renders Satoru unable to breathe every single time, and he would enjoy it more if it weren't for the fact that he desperately wants to have Suguru's cock inside of him. That was the whole reason they were here — So that his dick could spear Satoru open and fill him up until all he knew was Suguru's name.

Suguru makes quick work of his hole too, a third finger pressing inside to aide in his stretching, the pink and puffy rim now worked open for Suguru to fuck into. Yet he decides to tease Satoru more, make him feel too good yet not enough to make him come at the same time. It's so mean the way Suguru knows his body so well, using that knowledge against him and having Satoru begging, pleading to be touched before he can finally get what he wants.

Suguru does give in, though. He gives up his relentless teasing to finally give Satoru what he needs, what they both crave from each other.

Satoru lets out a cry of relief, his hips falling onto his sheets and encasing his drooling cock with plush bedding. It doesn't smell like his own bed though, but he can make do with the loss to have Suguru pushing inside of him.

"You with me?" Suguru murmurs into Satoru's ear, parting his ass to reveal his slick hole. He presses the tip against Satoru's asshole as he continues to speak. "I'm gonna fuck you now."

"Just get on with it." Satoru snaps, turning his head to the side so he can look at Suguru, see his messy bangs in front of his face. He moans softly when Suguru eases the tip inside, and it causes him to press his ass up just a bit, enough to have another inch inside of Satoru. "Oh fuck." He gasps, bringing up an arm to bring Suguru's head down, pressing kiss after kiss on his lips as Suguru continues to push inside.

Eventually, Suguru's entire body is pressed against Satoru's, his hips meeting his ass as his dick sheathes itself fully inside of Satoru. It feels heavenly, his veins are singing with life as he feels Suguru breathe harshly into his mouth, all because of Satoru and Satoru alone. His thoughts don't make sense, he can barely think of anything other than Suguru is inside me because Suguru is… Home.

He's back home, where he belongs.

"Perfect, every single time." Suguru's voice cracks, his face buried into Satoru's nape, forearms planted just above Satoru's head so he can start moving, taking Satoru once more. "It's like you want me here, don't you?" He laughs softly, sliding out half of his dick before pushing back inside, shutting up any witty response Satoru may have for a throaty moan. "Yeah, I know you do." He whispers filthily into his ear, building up a steady pace of Suguru thrusting into his tight rim over and over again.

Satoru grasps onto his pillow, burying his face into his pillow once more so that he can muffle his punched-out moans. Suguru doesn't let him hide for long, however, he just pulls his head up and grinds deep into his asshole, rolling his hips just how Satoru likes it, crying out in pure pleasure.

"Faster—" Satoru chokes, mouth hanging open whilst Suguru obliges, his mind floating in the skies the quicker Suguru thrusts into his pliant body. He was always meant to take what Suguru was willing to give, wasn't he? "Like that, like that," He babbles, blindly reaching for Suguru's head so they can kiss once more, even if he has to arch his back uncomfortably, in order to meet Suguru's lips. He doesn't care, though, just keeps kissing him as Suguru only makes him take his cock more, relentlessly abusing his puffy rim just as he always does.

This was something Satoru could always fall back on when life seems too out of control. He can just, give up his power to Suguru, and let Suguru do the rest of the work. He tenses up at a particularly good thrust, his throbbing cock rubbing against the sheets over and over again, shifting with Suguru's relentless pace against his poor prostate.

"So pretty, so gorgeous." Suguru whispers into his ear, praises slewing out of his mouth now that they were deep in the throes of pleasure. "All mine, all mine to have, isn't that right?" And Satoru nods his head helplessly, because denying that claim would be a complete and utter lie.

"Su—" Satoru can't even utter his full name, tears flowing freely down his cheeks, the uncomfort in his stomach finally releasing into the air. He sobs, fully breaks down, his whole body spasming and jerking as he also comes into the sheets, staining them with his sticky mess of hot come. It was unexpected, taking his body by storm but Suguru doesn't let up, even when his asshole clenches tightly around his dick.

He pushes Satoru's body into overstimulation, fucking him through his release, and bringing him on the edge of the next one. Satoru's legs clench, and Suguru has to force his thighs open so that he can still rut mindlessly into his ass, to take the pleasure that he desires from Satoru's body.

"I'm close." Suguru groans into his ear, his grip bruising on Satoru's pale skin, and that's going to leave marks on his body. "Take it."

"Want it anyway." Satoru sniffles, turning his head to kiss Suguru messily on the lips, to devour his mouth whilst Suguru takes the rest of his being away from him. "Please give it to me, oh fuck—!"

The next thing he knows, Suguru is filling him up with his cum, releasing it deep inside of his body, following his needy request of being filled. They still as Suguru comes, only grinding ever so slightly to coax himself through his release, before slumping down on Satoru's body.

"Fuck…" Suguru groans, kissing the nape of Satoru's neck once more, slowly easing out of him and watching the cum that drips down as a result. Satoru whines and tries to clench once more, to keep it inside even as it dribbles down his legs uselessly.

Suguru lies down next to him, wrung out and tired, breathing heavily and letting the sweat evaporate off his skin to cool his warm body. Satoru turns his head to the side to look at him, trailing over features he's seen many, many times before.

He makes eye contact with Suguru, when he turns his head to face him. They're both looking into each other's eyes, and Suguru is leaning in to kiss him on the lips once more. It's unlike the kisses they've shared that evening— It's soft, gentle, sweet. Both types of kisses are so Suguru that Satoru can't help but kiss back, leaning into it and letting the false promise of a perfect life take him with the kiss.

When they part, they curl their bodies up together, uncaring of the mess they've made. Sometimes Suguru is attentive with aftercare, but tonight, they're both drained of everything they have.

"How are you?" Suguru murmurs after a little while, gently playing with Satoru's hair.

"Good." Satoru replies mindlessly, because he does feel significantly better than before. Maybe in some crude, twisted way, Suguru is the cement that is needed to patch his cracks. His cum is the cement…?

No, that just makes Satoru huff out a soft breath of laughter.

"You?" Satoru returns, burying his face into Suguru's neck, closing his eyes slowly and letting sleep take him with it.

"Also good." Suguru replies.

They don't talk much after that, and instead let dreams do the talking for them. Satoru usually has dreamless sleeps, but when he's with Suguru, he can only wonder what he might see tonight.

He just doesn't expect Suguru to be there when he wakes up. That part is a guaranteed, always.

Satoru lies his head on Suguru's shoulder, looking up to his good side whilst they enjoy their last moments together.

The alleyway was surprisingly clean for the two of them. Maybe all of the animals had ran away after seeing Suguru's trail of blood, his body missing an arm from failing his attack on Jujutsu High. Maybe it was the consequence he finally had to pay, something that Satoru could never bring himself to put upon Suguru.

I love you.

Those were the words he had uttered from his lips.

"In the next life, make sure to hold me close." Suguru whispers, more of a joke than anything.

Satoru nods his head, swallowing heavily. "I promise." He pushes up so that he could press a soft kiss to his lips. If only he was able to perform RCT on other people, maybe he could have a chance of saving Suguru whilst he was still breathing. "Can you not…"

"Shh. Just enjoy the moment." But he can hear Suguru's voice wavering, loosing the strength to stay alive. "Tell me about what has happened recently."

And Satoru does. He pushes through his ache of sorrow and speaks to Suguru as they haven't done in years, too caught up in the passion of their bodies to untangle the mess in their minds. He tells him about how his students are wonderful (even though one just blasted Suguru to death) and that his second years (Hakari and Kirara) are absolutely wonderful together. He tells him about how Shoko is doing, still smoking her lungs away, and the new store he discovered that's only an hour walk from Jujutsu High.

His eyes can see Suguru slipping away. Still, he talks.

"That's… That's everything." Satoru's voice breaks, eyes glistening with unshed tears. He could never cry unless Suguru was there, right beside him, huh? "And you?"

"You know, same old, same old." Suguru smiles, bringing up his arm to wrap around Satoru's waist, leaning down for another kiss even as he winces in pain. Satoru takes the kiss as best as he can, planting a gentle hand on Suguru's robes, slightly wet from pooling blood.

Satoru pulls away when he starts to see Suguru's eyes fade away, drifting from the present moment and into a future where Satoru isn't there with him. Maybe it's a future, maybe it's a past, maybe it was a whole new world entirely.

"Stay with me, Suguru." Satoru whispers, borderline pleads, sitting up so he can cup Suguru's face, press another kiss. He panics slightly when Suguru doesn't return it back with the same strength, and when he pulls away, he sees a soft smile on Suguru's lips.

"I'm right there with you, Satoru." Suguru says, the life slipping away from his skin, turning paler and paler right before Satoru's eyes. He wants to stop it, delay the process, anything to keep Suguru from dying. "I'm not going anywhere, okay? Just keep talking."

Satoru nods his head, and he wants to believe it so bad. Still, he obliges with Suguru's request, speaking about any new thought that popped into his mind, or anything new that he wants to try, or a new game he wants to play.

By the time Satoru concludes his thoughts, Suguru is long gone.

He had spent his very last moment with Satoru, spent his time consoling the both of them before he left Satoru all alone. It was still comforting to know that Suguru was there with him, even if he couldn't be by his side. But now, living with the fact that the only person who had learned to understand Satoru had passed away right beside of him, the hurt was too much to bear.

Still, he knew he had to get up. It was what Suguru had wanted. Suguru would've wanted for Satoru to face continue living as if it were any other day. Why else would he let Satoru talk, why not go out with a dramatic monologue about his own feelings? Or his regrets?

There was no time to ponder on it, not now. Satoru had a body to clean.

He slowly peels himself away from Suguru's body, looking at his bloody hands, biting down on his bottom lip as he sees the redness dry in the faint grooves of his palms.

For once, Satoru doesn't know what to do. Maybe there was still a chance to bring Suguru back? Shoko can do something, right? She's a doctor, she can heal Suguru.

Or… No. It would be bad. Suguru would still be Suguru, and if he came back, they would still be fated enemies.

Suguru, give me an answer.

Satoru peers into Suguru's lifeless eyes, seeing the colour completely drained from his body no longer working. Maybe Suguru could still tell him, maybe he could whisper the answer.

Nothing.

Of course, what could he expect from somebody who was destined to be gone?