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Stars shimmer above his head, but Yuuji barely sends them a second glance. He’s running, or at least, he’s attempting to run. His legs feel heavy—the heaviest they’ve ever been, barely picking up from the ground, but he can’t stop.
There’s a figure ahead of him, face turned away. From this distance, the only real impression he can make out is the fact that he’s tall and draped in layers of dark fabric that elegantly flow around his body. There’s a veil over his head, but Yuuji knows that it’s him. He’s seen him from afar so many times that by now, he’d be able to pick him out from a crowd based only on the breadth of his shoulders. His heart fills with longing, and he wants this time to be the one where he reaches him.
Yuuji opens his mouth to shout, but no sound comes out. Instead, the man starts to walk away, as if he doesn’t notice Yuuji at all.
His heart breaks, and he reaches a hand out, mentally begging his feet to go faster, to catch up, to get to him…
Yuuji wakes up with a gasp and a familiar aching in his ribcage, like a bleeding wound. Another night, another failed attempt at catching up to the god of dreams.
Moving his hand to his face, he’s distracted by the feeling of fabric dragging across his chest. That’s weird; he doesn’t wear much to bed. Peering down with curiosity, Yuuji lets out a loud yelp once he sees the outfit he’s in. Expensive white cloth, more expensive than anything he’s ever worn before, embroidered with a delicate pink pattern that shimmers across his chest. His marriage robes. Hope momentarily takes his breath away as it all comes rushing back.
The god of dreams takes a spouse every 25 years. Although no one quite knows why, they also don’t dare to avoid it. The one year they did is spoken about in hushed whispers; about some people being unable to sleep a wink, while others had nightmares so bad people would rather kill themselves than sleep, and all sorts of horrible other examples.
Yuuji has been asking, wheedling, begging for years to be the next chosen one. Everyone was loath to let him; they all knew ‘marriage’ was just a fancy word for ‘death’, but he didn't care. Ever since that first dream Yuuji had when he saw him, he’s been infatuated.
If you asked him, Yuuji wouldn’t be able to explain exactly why. It just feels natural, as easy as breathing. Though he’s never seen the god’s face, he knows without a doubt that he loves him. It’s like something within him cries out, pleading to be united with someone he’s never even talked to.
And now the time has finally come.
Standing, he takes in the space around him. A night sky twinkles overhead, but Yuuji’s eyes are instantly drawn to the large mansion in front of him. A figure stands at the top of a staircase, and his eyes widen.
A veil is still draped over the eyes, but he’s facing Yuuji this time, his skin eerily pale as thin pink lips stretch into a smile.
“Awake?” the god of dreams asks. It’s all Yuuji can do to nod, his tongue feeling heavy and dumb in his mouth, unable to form a single word, though his mind is buzzing with them. “Good. Come here.”
From out of a billowing sleeve, an equally pale hand gestures in front of him. Yuuji hastens to comply, willing his shaky legs to move.
It doesn’t take long to reach him, and Yuuji’s heart beats get louder and louder the closer he gets. He draws to a stop on the step right below the god, head tilted back to take him in, swallowing with nervousness. What should he do? Should he bow?
He barely starts to bend his knees before the god grabs his chin. It happens so quickly, he hadn’t seen the god move, and Yuuji freezes, letting the god move his face back and forth. His hand is icy. Yuuji wants to take it between his hands and warm up the chilled skin, blowing over it with his breath and rubbing the silky skin there. He gets taken out of his fantasy by a brisk voice.
“Hmm. Pretty. You’ll do.”
It’s barely a compliment, but Yuuji feels his heart soar all the same. He finally manages to speak. “M-my name is—”
“Itadori Yuuji, yes, I know. Follow me.” The god turns and starts walking away so fast that Yuuji scrambles to keep up.
“You do? How?”
“You’ve yelled it at me enough times in dreams. How could I not know?” His voice sounds vaguely amused by this. Yuuji brightens at the mention.
“So you did hear me! Why did you never turn around?” They’re walking through so many hallways that Yuuji doesn’t think he could ever manage to find his way out again without a guide, but he’s not worried about it. He knows he’d never try. They don’t run into anyone else; he’s not sure if that’s because they’ve been ordered away or if this god simply lives alone.
He hopes it’s the former; the latter is too sad.
The god’s face twists to send him an indulgent smile. “The god of dreams is there simply to monitor and protect. It isn’t there to have a conversation or reveal itself. The fact that you noticed me so many times is already a great failing.” They come to a door, and the god stops before it, turning to face Yuuji completely. He badly wants to touch the veil, to draw it away, but he doesn’t dare. “You’re a strange one.” A finger pokes a few times—gently—into his forehead. Yuuji wrinkles his nose at the action. “Most people only see me once and then put me so far out of their minds that they never notice me again.”
“I—”
“Here we are!” the god interrupts brightly, swinging the door open. “In, in.” He ushers Yuuji inside before he can say anything more.
Inside is an understated room, the scent of incense thick in the air. Most of it is taken up by a large bed. Seeing it, Yuuji swallows. Still, he’s not afraid. He knows why he wanted to come here.
“How should I—” Yuuji cuts himself off as the god walks around him before plopping himself on the foot of the bed.
“Easy, strip for me first,” he says, crossing a leg over his knee and settling back like he’s waiting for a show.
His new sacrifice hesitates for only a moment before he starts untying the knot at his waist. Satoru watches through the bandages and the veil, his vision still unimpeded, no matter what sits in front of his eyes.
Satoru almost wants to snort as Yuuji strips efficiently, no sexiness at all with his movements. It should be less appealing than it is. Most sacrifices shake, a lot cry, and almost all of them beg for their lives. Yet this one seems almost eager, stealing little glances at Satoru from underneath his lashes, gaze filled with undisguised longing and heat.
Normally, Satoru doesn’t bother to have sex with them. There’s no need for it; he only needs to consume their dreams so that he can get some sleep. Otherwise, the god of dreams is an insomniac—watching others sleep, but unable to do so himself.
It’s unbearable.
So, he found this little loophole of consuming someone’s dreams. It kills them if he drains them completely, but what does Satoru care? Doesn’t he do enough, selflessly protecting others, night after night, without a word of thanks or acknowledgment that isn’t tinged with fear of what he is? With each little bride or groom that passes his borders, Satoru might play with them for a while before he grows bored of the pretense and swallows them whole.
But it’s been a long time since they’ve sent him one so pretty.
Once Yuuji has stripped, Satoru smirks at the young man’s cock, already standing at attention. He makes no effort to hide, just stands there bared to Satoru’s gaze, and he drinks him in hungrily. His dick has a good thickness and shape, slightly curved to the side. Too bad he won’t be using it.
Satoru cocks a finger. “Crawl to me. Take me out of my robes.”
Yuuji’s knees instantly hit the floor, and shamelessly, he starts crawling towards him. His eyes are bright and focused entirely on Satoru. They’re a pretty honey-gold, delicious enough to want to pluck them out and have as a snack.
When he reaches Satoru, he puts one hand out, watching him carefully. At his lack of reaction, Yuuji seems to take that as permission to place his hand on a knee and sit up straight. He stares right into Satoru’s face.
“Can I—” Yuuji bites his lip then barrels on quickly, words almost hitting each other in his haste, “Can I take off your veil? I want to see you.”
Satoru’s eyebrows fly up in surprise. He hadn’t planned on taking off his coverings, but if Yuuji insists… He smiles and lifts a hand, but Yuuji grabs his wrist before he can get too far.
“I’d like to do it,” Yuuji says firmly, eyes searing in their earnestness. Then, he seems to remember who he’s talking to and amends, sounding embarrassed, “If that’s okay.”
He lets his hand relax, and Yuuji loosens his hold, though he seems reluctant, his fingers releasing one by one. Satoru internally preens at the obvious attention.
“Sure!” He leans forward slightly. “Knock yourself out.”
Gleefully, he watches as Yuuji carefully takes a corner of the sheer veil he wears and pulls slowly. His heartbeat quickens, swallowing slightly.
Honestly, he wasn’t planning on removing the veil or bandages. His eyes are how he feasts on others, after all. The moment his Six Eyes catch onto someone else’s, dreams start pouring into him, into the endless maw that he is, underneath the skin he wears to put humans at ease.
They’re never enough, no matter how much he eats, but they take the edge off the constant hunger. The constant need to have dreams of his own.
The veil hits the ground in a whisper of fabric, and Yuuji unwinds his bandages slowly. Satoru closes his eyes and waits patiently until they all fall away, and there’s a heavy silence.
“Beautiful…” Yuuji says, voice hushed and awed. Satoru opens his eyes and immediately gets sucked in.
The sun heats his skin, but the feel of ocean waves against his feet helps him from feeling too overheated. Yuuji stands beside him, smiling up at him, their hands clasped between them as they walk through the surf.
Satoru is confused, but the dream is ripped away as Yuuji looks down and starts fumbling with Satoru’s robes.
Normally, for the dreams he eats, Satoru is still a bystander, the same as whenever he wanders through them to protect the dreamer from demons and nightmares. Why was he actually in the dream as a participant?
It doesn’t take long for Yuuji to fish out his cock. It hangs in his hand limply, but Yuuji doesn’t seem disappointed in the least. He peeks up. “What should I call you?”
Satoru sucks in a breath that smells like the sea. “Gojo,” he answers. Yuuji nods and ducks down, taking his cock into his mouth fully.
While it quickly becomes clear that Yuuji has zero experience (did they really send him a virgin of all things?), his hot and wet mouth gets his dick interested soon enough. Not even the little pricks of pain as his teeth catch his shaft put a damper on the pleasure that is starting to fizzle in his nonexistent veins.
He chuckles, laying a hand on Yuuji’s head. “A bit gentler, Yuuji dear,” he instructs. “It’s not going anywhere. Watch your teeth.”
Those wide eyes look up at him, beading with tears. Yuuji laughs, chest pressing against his own. He can feel the way Yuuji’s joy and happiness seep into every aspect of the dream as Yuuji pops up onto his tiptoes, chin angled up as if he wants a kiss— Yuuji swallows and closes his eyes, tearing away the dream.
He sucks with enthusiasm, drool dripping down what he can’t hold in his mouth. Satoru groans at the heat of it, hand clenching into Yuuji’s pink hair. His little offering moans around his cock and tries to push his face down even further.
Satoru keeps expecting him to gag and pull away, but Yuuji keeps going and going until he bottoms out, nose pressed against trimmed white pubes.
His cock is encased in velvet wetness that tightens as Yuuji swallows, and he instinctively bucks his hips, somehow wanting to bury his dick in deeper, even though that’s impossible.
What a little treasure I’ve been given, Satoru thinks. He holds Yuuji down when he feels him try to withdraw, and Yuuji squirms but doesn’t try to break out of his hold.
It’s exhilarating, the easy trust Yuuji gives him.
He’s so turned on, Satoru can’t remember the last time he’s felt anything close to this, and with a sudden frenzy, he rips Yuuji off of him, ignoring the cry of loss Yuuji lets out. Easily, he bends to grab the human and throws him onto the bed, crawling up after him.
Their eyes meet. The dream is different this time.
They lay in a field of flowers, looking up at the night sky, covered with stars. Satoru has an arm outstretched, pointing at certain ones. He’s explaining something, but the words don’t make any sense, just a random jumble of some made-up language of dreams. It doesn’t matter though. Yuuji is turned towards him, only looking at Satoru, not bothering to spare a glance at the view stretched out before them.
Swearing, this time Satoru looks away as he strips quickly, wanting to feel Yuuji’s skin against his own. His hands are shaking as he makes lube magically appear, coating his fingers.
When he pushes one inside, Yuuji gasps, his back bending. Satoru seeks out his eyes, hungry for more.
“Can’t I kiss you?” Yuuji asks with a pout.
Dream Satoru only smirks down at him before grabbing one of Yuuji’s hands and letting the pads of a few of his fingertips slowly drag against his mouth. Despite the small gesture, Yuuji still shivers. Satoru can feel the way Yuuji wants him.
“Yuuji,” Satoru groans, closing his eyes. “Do you always dream of me? Even when I’m not really there?” He’s still stretching him out, so it takes a bit for Yuuji to register his question.
“Uh-huh,” Yuuji says, amongst his gasps. “I always dream of you. It’s whenever I can’t reach you or talk to you that I realize it’s really you.”
“Fuck.”
Satoru feels like he’s burning, feels like he’s being torn apart. Who is this human?
Prep is rushed, but Satoru can hardly find it within himself to care. Yuuji keeps trying to catch his eye, and each time, dreams flash by. In every single one, Satoru is there, loving and being loved by this sacrifice, and he doesn’t know what to do with it all. He’s never been loved like this.
Pulling out his fingers with a wet squelch, Satoru takes a single moment to admire the way that Yuuji’s hole clenches against nothing, looking lonely and empty, before pulling at Yuuji’s body, tugging him onto his side.
Yuuji whines with confusion. “W-what?” he asks as Satoru snuggles behind his back. Grabbing Yuuji by the hip, he shoves him back against Satoru’s crotch, loving the feel of their skin pressed together like this. He humps into the crack of Yuuji’s ass, letting the head of his cock catch against the rim, feeling the way Yuuji shivers. Still, he tries to pull away, though Satoru easily holds him in place. “But I wanted to see you!”
Satoru shushes him, petting against his flank gently, trying to be soothing. “Don’t worry, my treasure, let’s do it like this just one time, okay? We can do face-to-face another day.”
Instantly, Yuuji stills. “A-another day?” he repeats with something like hope in his voice.
“Mmhm,” Satoru hums, licking up the shell of Yuuji’s ear and nipping at the lobe. He has to fight down the urge to bite down hard enough to draw blood, to tear, to make his mark on the human. “I’ll make it good for you. Don’t you want it?”
He juts his hips forward, and Yuuji keens before nodding desperately. “Please, please, I want it!”
“Good boy,” Satoru says, eyes going half-lidded with satisfaction. He wiggles back a few measly inches, just enough to be able to look down between them, his breath getting caught in his lungs at the sight of his cock pressing into the cleft of Yuuji’s asscheeks like it belongs there.
Humping against the warm skin for a few seconds, he finally positions himself correctly and starts to press inside. Satoru’s eyes flutter at the feeling of Yuuji’s tight ass squeezing down on him.
This human is his, all his, only his.
They moan together as he sinks deeper and deeper inside. When Yuuji’s ass finally hits against Satoru’s hips, he lets out a growl.
“You’re mine,” he hisses, and Yuuji arches his spine with a sob.
Quickly, he sets up a brutal rhythm, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling up the room. Yuuji reaches back and digs his nails into Satoru’s ass, but he hardly registers the feeling.
He puts a hand against Yuuji’s throat, not to choke, but simply to hold him in place. Still, the implication is there; they both know it would hardly take any effort on his part to crush his windpipe. Instead of being scared, Yuuji twists into the bedsheets with a groan, tilting his head back even further to allow Satoru’s large hand to completely wrap around his neck. When he presses just a little with his fingertips, Yuuji keens with pleasure, pushing his ass back into Satoru’s thrusts.
Heat crawls up his spine, and sweat starts to trickle down his face, but he keeps his eyes wide as he takes in the edges of Yuuji’s face that he can see. He wishes he could turn Yuuji over onto his back and categorize every single expression, memorize the shape of Yuuji’s mouth on every moan, but he can’t.
It’s been so long since Satoru hasn’t actively tried to devour someone with his eyes that he doesn’t trust himself not to completely consume Yuuji in this state.
But he finds that he wants to. The love that he’s felt in every single dream of Yuuji’s is intoxicating. Satoru is always hungry, never satisfied, but maybe… maybe he can find something to satisfy him at last.
“Do you wanna be mine, Yuuji?” Satoru gasps against his offering’s ear. “Wanna stay with me forever? I’ve seen your dreams. How you long for me, how much you love me. Won’t you say it, dear?”
He releases Yuuji’s throat in order to stroke down his chest and wraps a hand around Yuuji’s cock, pumping him in time with his thrusts.
Yuuji gasps and moans, seemingly too caught up in the feeling to hear his words. Eventually, he manages to stutter, “L-love you. Love you, want you. A-ah!!” Satoru can’t help the way his pace increases at hearing Yuuji’s lovely voice say love. He kisses up the column of Yuuji’s neck, prompting the human to turn his head.
The angle is terrible, but Satoru can’t help but groan with approval as he slots their mouths together. It’s messy, both of them opening their mouths immediately to let tongues wrap around each other, but it’s utterly perfect at the same time.
When they separate, Satoru keeps his eyes closed for a moment longer, stilling his hips. Slowly, he withdraws, listening to the way Yuuji whines, feeling the way his body shivers and shakes with his need.
Satoru opens his eyes right as he slams in, a dream tries to slip inside, but he does something he’s never done before: he blinks it away, instead focusing on the way Yuuji’s eyes widen and the way his mouth drops into a delicious little ‘o’ as he screams. In his hand, Yuuji’s cock jumps, and he starts to cum, his ass tightening around Satoru’s cock like a vice.
He lets Yuuji ride it out, pumping in and out slowly. Right as he starts to relax, Satoru pushes him fully onto his stomach and grabs his hips in both hands. Yuuji lies completely on his stomach, and Satoru’s too far gone to even try to attempt to get him onto his knees.
Instead, he drills down into Yuuji’s welcoming body, soaking in every single groan and moan from the treasure beneath him.
His orgasm comes on suddenly, the heat and pleasure that has been sparking through him suddenly collapsing into a quasar, and Satoru lets out a long, drawn-out groan as he pushes himself as deep as he can go, trying to cum as far inside as possible.
It only takes a few seconds for his heart to start to calm, and Satoru pushes back the hair that’s fallen into his face. Slowly, he starts to pull out. The little whimper that Yuuji makes as he does so makes his heart soar. Greedily, he takes in the way that cum is already starting to trickle out of Yuuji’s soft pink hole. He lets a thumb push some back inside, giggling at how easily Yuuji’s body lets him.
Still, he wants to cuddle with his new possession, and he withdraws. Snapping his fingers, bandages wrap around his eyes as he dives next to Yuuji with a large smile on his face.
Yuuji turns towards him, blinking sleepily. Satoru coos at how adorable he looks, face flushed, drool dripping down the corners of his mouth. He looks fucked out.
He wants to keep him.
He’s going to.
The human frowns at him, reaching out for his bandages. “Gojo, why did you cover your eyes…” Satoru captures his hand with a chuckle, kissing the back of his knuckles.
“Call me Satoru. And I have to make sure you’re safe, love. Can’t have you dying on me when you’ll be staying!”
Yuuji’s brow furrows. “Dying?” He sounds confused, then his eyes light up. “Staying?” he repeats, suddenly looking like he’s already forgotten the first part of Satoru’s sentence. Satoru laughs with joy.
“Yes! Don’t worry about the rest, I’ll explain later. But for now, I need to keep my eyes covered around you.” He gathers Yuuji into his arms, pulling him close. His treasure doesn’t fight him at all; instead, he seems to melt into the embrace. “Once I learn how to control it, I’ll never cover them around you again, okay?”
“Okay,” Yuuji agrees with a soft sigh. “Does this mean… does this mean we’ll really be married?”
Satoru wants to snort at how badly Yuuji wants him. Instead, his heart skips a hopeful little beat. That devotion it’s… it’s everything that Satoru’s ever wanted and never thought he’d ever have.
“Yes, my lovely husband. You’ll be my last marriage. If you promise to stay by my side.”
Yuuji buries himself even closer to Satoru, wrapping his arms around him tightly.
“Always,” he promises. “I’ll never leave. Just as long as you’ll only have me.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Satoru says into the dark room, listening as Yuuji falls asleep against him. Blue eyes start to blink open along the walls and across the ceiling. They’re all trained on Yuuji as if they couldn’t bear to look at anything else.
“You’ll be the only thing I’ll ever see.”