Work Text:
The yearly Christmas party is in full swing.
Yuji really outdid himself. It’s bigger than ever this year, undoubtedly with Nobara’s help. Red and green and glittery, the house screams festivity and holidays. A massive tree towers in the corner. Streamers drape every surface; mistletoes are hidden in random alcoves and doorways with Gojo cheekily trying to get Nanami to stand under one for at least a second.
It smells like sugar cookies, cinnamon, and firewood. Throngs of friends and family are having drinks and laughing or balancing plates of the delicious food people brought over. Turkey and ham. Roast potatoes and cranberry sauce. Apple cider and eggnog. Mountains of gingerbread man cookies and dishes of pie.
Yuji paints a ridiculous picture with the ugly Christmas sweater he has on – an atrocious smattering of red and green and ornaments and trees covering its thick wool. Todo follows him around, standing proudly in a sweater of his own to match. It has the body of an elf underneath the neckline, so it appears as if Todo’s head is attached to the elf. It’s perhaps uglier than Yuji’s.
Soft holiday music of all the Christmas classics floats around the house, mingling with the chatter and laughter, a pleasant swell of noise – of family and friends. It’s a sharp contrast to how most are well on their way to getting drunk. Nobara and Maki giggle to each other on the couch in the living room. Yuta is walking around with an eggnog mustache and reindeer ears. Panda goes up to everyone, taking pictures, saying it’s for a scrapbook or something. Inumaki, on the other hand, purposely takes bad pictures of people for shits and giggles.
It’s nice. Drifting through the house, catching and trading stories with everyone, at the most peaceful and beautiful time of year.
Megumi is not quite sure what spurs him into sending the texts.
It’s not that the party is boring – not at all, they’ve been playing party games and drinking and eating and talking all night. They’re planning to do the secret gift exchange soon too. So, it’s a mystery as to what provokes him into taking out his phone and typing.
Maybe it’s the fact that he hasn’t talked to Sukuna in an hour, or that he misses having that large hand of his on his lower back, or maybe it’s because said boyfriend is currently talking to his father. And it looks like they’re having fun.
They’re sitting out on the deck, where it’s cold and a light flurry of snow is falling, and they pay it no mind. The strung-up holiday lights lining the roof and the lit cigarettes in their hands illuminate them in an almost ethereal glow. Their cheeks are a rosy red, and they keep laughing as they tell each other some stupid story.
His father wears a goofy red Santa hat, and it jingles when he knocks his head back for another laugh. Megumi watches the scene through the glass door. It’s fine that they get along – it’s good that they get along. He’s not jealous that they’re buddy buddy or anything. It’s not that at all.
But he’ll admit he’s feeling a little vindictive when he reviews his drafted texts.
Megumi sends Sukuna lots of things, all the time. Memes that remind him of Sukuna, videos of their dogs doing something goofy, photos of himself in weird filters. Mostly innocent. Never like this.
i know it’s not a good time
but, fuck, i need you inside of me
need your big cock filling me up, till i feel you in my stomach
i need it so bad daddy
i’m so wet, i really need you rn
The last part isn’t even a lie. Megumi can feel himself pushing his thighs closer together. He's making himself wet with the thoughts, knowing Sukuna can’t resist this, how he has no self-control when it comes to Megumi.
He looks up once more.
Sukuna is in the middle of talking to his father about something, hands gesturing wide and animated.
Megumi’s thumb presses down and sends it.
He puts his phone in his lap and watches him, waiting.
He keeps waiting, till Sukuna pauses to take a drag from his cigarette and at the same time, leans back to reach into his front pocket. He pulls out his phone, smoke billowing from between his lips.
He unlocks it.
A bunch of different imperceptible microexpressions phase across his face.
It looks like his father is talking now, not noticing Sukuna’s abrupt stillness, but Megumi does, watches intently. He can see it all, even through the glares of the blue snowflake lights on the glass door. To see how nostrils flare, that sharp jaw clenches. Megumi instantly feels that familiar lick of fiery desire burning inside his gut and looks closely at how tightly Sukuna holds on to his phone. It’s dwarfed by how large his hand is, the knuckles going pale with how firm he’s holding onto it, like a lifeline. Perhaps he’ll even crush it. Instead, he stubs out his cigarette, nearly turning it into a pile of ash – he had just lit it too, a waste.
Right then, Sukuna’s eyes flick up, and he cranes his head around, like he just innately knows Megumi is there behind him. Megumi smothers his gasp. His eyes are dark, the pupils eating up the red. That throat of his bobs up and down as he swallows. It looks like Sukuna is going to leap across the deck, break through the glass door, and fucking eat him.
They stare at each other for a moment. Sukuna’s shoulders are tense, muscles coiled and ready. Toji is still talking.
Megumi holds his gaze, skin heating, until his boyfriend creakily turns around and sits there stiff as a board. It feels like an eternity passes. Waiting. Waiting till Toji finishes his story, and Megumi relishes in it. Sukuna is no longer paying any attention to their interaction, just waits and waits.
When the old man finally finishes, Sukuna wastes no time and abruptly stands, towering over the deck chairs, and gruffly excuses himself. He doesn’t say anything when he enters the house and passes Megumi by, but pointedly meets his gaze on the way and Megumi catches the tail-end of the excuse he gives, “ – gonna take a leak.”
“Get me a beer while you’re at it,” Toji barks out, right before the door slides back close, but Sukuna is already gone by then.
Megumi’s heart is pounding in his chest. Like one of Pavlov’s dogs, his pussy gushes a little, instantly recognizing that tone of voice. It’s the voice Sukuna uses when he’s about to rail Megumi so hard that he won’t be able to walk for a week.
It’s pure agony waiting the next few minutes, till he feels it’s safe to slip away to where Sukuna disappeared to. He murmurs to Nobara sitting next to him that he’s going to get some fresh air, in which she waves it away without a care. He stands, coltish, not quite sure how his legs are supposed to work, pauses and takes a step toward the hall, all before he darts out of the room, practically sprinting to get to the restroom.
He is just arriving to the bathroom when the door rips open and he’s dragged inside. The door is shut and locked behind him, and no sooner, Sukuna is turning him around and crowding him against the door, all but boxing him in against its edge, not giving any room to run away - not that he would. Till there’s hardly any space between them at all. His lips are at his ear, and Megumi can hear how heavy he’s breathing, can feel how his chest heaves against his back.
“You fucking brat,” Sukuna growls into his neck, he feels his tongue at the sensitive spot between his earlobe and neck, and Megumi’s eyes nearly roll to the back of his head, “you got me hard two feet away from your father.”
“Having to wait there…that was torture,” he continues, voice dipping impossibly deep, almost a growl. “Absolute fucking torture.”
Megumi is vibrating in his arms, lungs filling with short little gasps of air. He can’t speak, can’t move, breathe.
“I had to sit there for three whole minutes, your dad prattling on and on about his new car, and all I’m able to think about is getting you into this bathroom, out of your clothes and fucking you like you need to be fucked.” He locks his arm around his front, reaches down and rubs the heel of his palm into Megumi’s covered cunt. “Like right now. Gonna fuck you, give exactly what my baby needs.”
“Kuna,” Megumi whines. He likes this, loves this, how helpless and malleable he is, pushed and pulled to Sukuna’s every whim. “Please – need it.”
“Shhh baby,” he hushes softly. When his hand slides into Megumi’s pants, it gifts a full-body shudder. Reaching and snaking down to where his underwear is, tracing the seam of his cunt. “God, you’re wet. Fucking soaked. It must hurt. Always being so hungry for me.”
The tips of two of his fingers rub down his silt and dip slightly inside of him. Megumi moans, face pressed into the door. Sukuna swipes at his clit every few strokes, with enough attention to keep him gasping. Hips grinding against his hand, Megumi’s moan is loud and uncontained – and dangerous enough to get them in trouble – especially when those two thick fingers push inside him.
He blows out a long, shaking breath, when a third finger is added.
“Fuck, ohhh, oh – !”
“That feel good, baby?”
“Uh huh.” Megumi has to bite down on his fist to keep from letting out another wanton moan.
“I know, I know, you need it bad,” Sukuna states, though it comes out cruel, deep and raspy. He slips his fingers out, and Megumi whines, desperate, missing the feeling of being filled. “It’s time to give you my cock. Open up.
Megumi nods, taking bottom lip between teeth, hardly needing the encouragement. Gladly, he bends over on trembling legs, one hand bracing against the door and the other quickly pulling down his pants and the fabric underneath, shoving it down his thighs, and blushing when he feels a long strand of his own wetness cling and snap to the fabric as it’s pulled down.
Shoving one leg between his thighs and stretching them wider, Sukuna aligns himself behind him, grunting in his ear. God, yes, Megumi thinks, feeling his hardness hot against his center, and urgently, a bit insane, I’ll die if I don’t get this thing inside me in the next five seconds.
“Please, Kuna, please,” he whimpers, a heavy fog enveloping his mind.
It felt good, so damn good, so right, but – but Sukuna wasn’t continuing, wasn’t thrusting in, sliding home. No, his cockhead bumps against Megumi’s drenched entrance, wetting the tip in the liquid there, dragging it out, playing with his pussy.
Blinking half-formed tears from his eyes and ignoring the mortification of the drool dribbling out of the corners of his mouth, Megumi lifts his head to eye Sukuna behind him. He arches his back a little more enticingly, to hurry this all up, and grunts, “Are you going to just sit there all day or actually fuck me?”
Sukuna meets his gaze, eyes glinting. And he laughs.
“Christ – you really are a fucking brat.”
Glaring, Megumi tries to push back, get him to nudge in a bit, to fill him up, but Sukuna holds him at his hips, ignoring all his whines.
He snaps then. “What are you waiting for?!” They don’t have much time till someone from the party notices. He’s irritable and needs a dick in him now – before anyone knocks on the door to actually take a leak.
“I dunno, do you think this whole thing can fit,” Sukuna dips in and out, rubs the length of his cock over his wet folds, “in this little pussy?”
Megumi’s always taken it, never had an issue with it, even if it sometimes hits his cervix when they’re in the right angle and that the first stretch can usually be uncomfortable. But this time, he thinks, he’s so wet that when Sukuna notches and pushes in with no warning, it’s such a slick slide into him that they’re both groaning.
“Fuck!” Megumi has to clap a hand over his mouth when he finally bottoms out. The air has left his lungs. Impossibly thick, Sukuna is splitting him open, touching everywhere inside him. Up in his guts probably. He’s seated in him, heavy and demanding and nowhere left to go.
He can feel Sukuna’s shoulders tense, breathing roughly through his nose. “That’s it, that’s it, good job sweetheart.” The cajoling praise goes straight to Megumi’s head, he feels dizzy, pulsing around Sukuna in a vice grip.
Megumi is shaking a little, but there’s a smile on his lips. It’s a happy place – being stretched to the limits, stuffed by his monstrous cock. Sukuna knows it too. “Ah, there it is,” he croons. “My brat’s only well behaved when he’s got a cock inside him, isn’t that right?”
“Mmmn,” Megumi can’t even properly reply. A hand goes between Megumi’s shoulder blades. Holds him, steadies him, all before absolutely railing into him. Relentless, Sukuna’s hips hit his backside, stinging in the most delicious way.
Thrusting with abandon, each a force of its own, Sukuna lifts Megumi by the hips so that his toes just barely brush the bathroom’s tile floor. The wood of the door bites into his palms. Delicious agony, he’s going to break him. And Megumi’s somehow getting wetter. How is that even possible?
“Fuck, I love this perfect little hole,” Sukuna rasps above him, above the tempo of snapping hips. “Wanna die with my cock in your cunt.”
Megumi whines, squeezing around him, loves how that word sounds on his tongue. Cunt, all filthy and sweet.
He presses his lips to the shell of his ear, breath hot against skin. “Will you keep me here forever babe?”
Megumi feels a gush, the space between them growing warmer, wetter, and he hears a slow chuckle behind him – though it sounds a little out of it.
“Don’t answer, your cunt just did.”
The orgasm hits him like a brick wall, stars exploding behind tightly pinched eyelids. Body trembling, he rides the feeling that vibrates through him, and it goes all the way down to his toes, in heavy, delicious ripples. Sukuna doesn’t let up on his motions, but slows them to a snail’s pace, holding on with digging fingers – so hard that’ll it’ll bruise.
And Megumi screams – screams as loud as he needs to – there’s no way he can’t. Sukuna puts a hand over his mouth, a little too late. Each nerve ending is alight and then Sukuna’s cock is pulsing, and Megumi is milking him for every last drop, so tight that he can barely move. A throbbing ecstasy that lasts for an eternity.
Megumi slumps against him, muscles in his stomach tensing and pussy still clamping down as Sukuna manages to still pump into him lazily. Eventually, he tires completely, and is collapsed over and his head falls into Megumi’s neck. Legs shaking and moving out of their own accord, Megumi waits till he’s finally able to breathe again and slowly opens his eyes, the aftershocks taking longer than usual to abate.
“Do you – do you think we got away with this?” Megumi huffs, out of breath but sated.
Sukuna must have rested him back on the ground at some point because he no longer feels like he’s floating, toes touching solid ground again. He detaches from him then, peeling away with shaky limbs. The feel of his release, the slickness, starts to trickle down his leg and he winces – they still have a party to attend.
Sukuna lets out a laugh, sounding winded. “Looks like Christmas came early.”
“Shut up.”
Sore and tired, Megumi straightens up and shuffles over to the mirror. He looks completely fucked out. Sukuna’s hulking frame appears in the mirror behind him, having already tucked himself back in. He reaches over and tries to tidy Megumi up, cleaning him up with tissue and fixing his clothes, brushing down the disheveled mess of black hair and wiping drying tears from under his eyes.
“I think we’re good though.” Sukuna grins and eyes Megumi up and down, looking like the cat that got the cream. “But uh – baby,” he licks his lips, “I think I’m ready for round two.”
Insatiable. Megumi rolls his eyes and moves towards the door. “Nuh-uh, don’t think so.”
Sukuna loudly laughs and jumps in front of him to open the door with a flourish, right before offering his hand. “My love, shall we?”
Megumi can’t fight the smile when he threads his fingers through his.
They return to the party, swinging their hands back and forth.
And if anyone notices Megumi limping a little after, no one says a thing.