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Something is clearly off with Megumi, and it’s driving Yuji absolutely insane. He gets lost in thought, or stares at Yuji like he’s trying to see into his soul. It’s weird! It freaks him out! And quite frankly, he doesn’t really understand the problem.
Yuji thought things were going great! Things have settled down! Sukuna seems to have decided that his daily mental torment and snide comments are no longer entertaining, leaving Yuji plenty of time with his boyfriend, and absolutely nothing is wrong.
Except… there was this one thing…
The “thing” in question sidles into the classroom, dressed entirely too casually for a teacher. Gojo’s sleeves are pushed up, the top buttons of his shirt popped open, case assignments in hand as he leans against one of the desks. The sight of him makes Yuji’s mouth water.
Damn, he looks good.
Gojo flips through the file he holds, starting to give Megumi way too little detail about the case he’s been assigned and all at once Yuji is reminded that his actual, literal boyfriend is right next to him and a bolt of guilt strikes through him.
“Oh and, uh, Nobara, why don’t you go with him today?” Gojo smiles, tossing the file down on the desk as though the paperwork inside meant absolutely nothing to him. Megumi scowls.
“What about Itadori?” Megumi challenges, and Yuji’s heart stops in his chest.
Does he know?
Gojo claps his hands together, the harsh sound reminding Yuji to breathe.
“A little training today, I think. Sound good, Itadori?” Gojo draws his name out, breaking it into its syllables and even with the blindfold, Yuji feels trapped under his gaze. He nods, manages some sort of Normal Agreement, and with that Gojo ushers the three of them out of the classroom.
“Have fun! Don’t die!” Gojo calls gleefully as Megumi and Kugisaki make their way down the hall. Kugisaki already seems to be working out some sort of plan, and Megumi shoots Yuji one last glance before they’re out of sight. Yuji relaxes the moment they are, letting out a sigh of relief. Great, he nailed that. Totally cool and relaxed. Megumi definitely doesn’t suspect anything. Right?
“Yuji,” Gojo says, and his voice has completely changed. He always takes this tone with him in private; lower, more gentle. Almost adoring. Yuji shivers.
“Not here,” Yuji answers, barely more than a whisper. He doesn’t want to risk Kugisaki coming back for something or worse, Megumi.
“Mine, then.” Yuji steps into line next to Gojo, matching his long stride as they stroll through campus. If any of the few people they pass find Gojo’s arm around Yuji’s shoulder to be more than teacherly, they don’t mention it. It reassures Yuji. He’s clearly being extremely subtle, and Megumi doesn’t know anything about this. He won’t know anything about this.
Maybe if Yuji were a better boyfriend, he wouldn’t be sneaking around with Megumi’s benefactor. Actually, if he were a better boyfriend, he wouldn’t be sneaking around at all, but Megumi is honestly the furthest thing from his mind right now.
Right now, it’s hard to think about anything at all other than the sight of Gojo carefully slicking up his fingers as though they’ve never done this before. Yuji’s breath hitches in his throat, his head tipping back as Gojo starts him off with two fingers.
He’s only ever been to this apartment once before, briefly, and he didn’t come inside. Maybe he’d be more impressed by it if the pure excitement of finally being able to take his time with Gojo wasn’t completely overpowering him. Before now, Yuji had only been granted brief tastes of him. Quick blowjobs in dark classrooms, a kiss stolen in a dim corner, a brief, hushed rendezvous in Yuji’s room in the middle of the night. This is different, almost… romantic.
Gojo keeps his free hand steady on Yuji’s hip, rubbing small circles with his thumb as his mouth keeps busy kissing anywhere he can reach.
“Satoru-“ Yuji gasps, arching his back as he feels a third finger slide into him. “Please-“
“Please, what?” Gojo teases, curling his fingers. “Use your words, Yuji-kun. Tell Sensei what you need.” He nips at the flesh of Yuji’s thigh. Yuji whines and tilts his head up to look at Gojo.
“Don’t tease,” he pouts. Gojo is (unfortunately) entirely clothed between his legs, amusement etched into his features. His blindfold is still snug across his face. Yuji is struck with the overwhelming need to tear it off, to make contact with eyes so blue Yuji could burn alive in Gojo’s gaze. He reaches for the blindfold, hooking a finger under it and tugging before Gojo moves his head back, just out of the boy’s reach.
“Now, now,” Gojo chides, “didn’t I tell you to use your words?” Yuji tosses an arm over his face, embarrassment licking up his spine. It’s always like this- the words dying in his throat until he can’t stand it anymore. “You don’t trust Sensei to give you what you need? I’m hurt, Yuji-kun, truly,” Gojo says, in a tone that would suggest Yuji had seriously insulted him. Yuji feels the fingers in him retreat, and that’s something he truly cannot allow. He reaches for Gojo, shoving down the shame that flushes over him, warming his body impossibly hotter.
“G- Sa-“ Yuji’s brain fumbles for the right name before settling on the honorific. “Sensei, I wanna see you-“ He reaches for Gojo again, this time met with a light swat. But Gojo honors such a request, taking a torturously long time to unbutton his shirt. Yuji savors each button.
“See? I can really be so accommodating if you would just ask nicely.” Gojo shucks his shirt, tosses it somewhere wholly unimportant, and Yuji thinks Gojo should never put the damn thing back on. Gojo stands at the edge of the bed, hands on his belt, waiting. Waiting for Yuji to ask, to plead, to beg him.
“The blindfold, too,” Yuji says, and it’s more a demand than a request. “And- and your pants.”
“Is that how you ask?” Gojo pinches Yuji’s leg. “Be a good boy and ask your sensei nicely.” Yuji shudders.
“Take them off, please,” Yuji tries, and he knows it’s insufficient. Gojo cocks his hip, rests a hand on it, and Yuji knows he’s raising an eyebrow without even seeing it.
“Please, what?”
“Please,” Yuji inhales sharply. “Take the rest of your clothes off and fuck me, Sensei,” he whines, dragging out the syllables of the honorific and batting his eyelashes the way he knows Gojo likes so much. He spreads his legs just that much wider, drags a hand over his body, hopes it has the effect he wants.
Of course, it absolutely does.
Gojo groans, dropping his head back briefly as he makes much quicker work of his pants and blindfold than he did his shirt. He drops them to the floor and climbs over Yuji.
“Who am I to deny my most precious student?” Gojo kisses him then, tangling a rough hand in Yuji’s hair. He kisses him like he’s desperate for the air in the boy’s lungs, like he’ll die without it. Yuji’s body thrums under the attention, shivering under the weight of Gojo’s need. His want.
Gojo pulls away from him, leaving sticky lip gloss smeared across Yuji’s mouth. He licks at it, savoring the sweet taste of it as Gojo reaches for the bottle of lube on the nightstand. He doesn’t take his eyes off of Yuji, as though he’s trying to commit him to memory. Like he hasn’t seen him a million times, like this is the first time he’s seen him like this. Yuji feels shy suddenly, overwhelmed by the expression on Gojo’s face and the look in his eyes. He turns his head away, as he’ll surely die if he looks at Gojo any longer.
“Still good?” Gojo asks, soft voice laced with concern as he stills over Yuji. Yuji hums, builds the courage to look again, curses the way his face burns.
“Yeah,” he answers, barely a whisper. “Just- when you look at me like that, I…” Yuji glances around the room before settling his gaze back on Gojo’s face. “Sorry. I’m fine.” He threads a gentle hand through Gojo’s hair, pulls him closer for a brief kiss to reassure him. “Keep going.” Gojo’s eyes take over his face, and whatever he finds must be enough. He pulls back every so slightly, giving himself room to slick himself up and adjust his position.
“No need to apologize. Ready?” Yuji nods once, and barely completes the action before Gojo slides into him. He’s not slow about it, not that he really needs to be. He doesn’t stop until he’s fully seated, with one of Yuji’s legs hoisted over his shoulder and the other held in a bruising grip. Gojo groans lowly, dipping his head. And he’s patient, so patient, waiting for Yuji to give him the green light. His eyes don’t leave Yuji’s even once.
Yuji drags the moment out just a little longer, just to sit in the feeling of being full before he gets his insides rearranged. When he’s ready, he reaches up for Gojo, who bends him almost entirely in half to meet him in the sweetest kiss they’ve shared this afternoon. When they part, Yuji looks up at him through his eyelashes, hopes he doesn’t look too stupid like this, shares a breath with Gojo.
“Please, Sensei,” he breathes, “fuck me.” Under no circumstances does Gojo need to be told twice. He pulls almost all the way out, achingly slow, and Yuji whines as the head of Gojo’s cock tugs at his hole. “Sens- ah!” Yuji’s complaint dies in a moan, forced out of his throat by the way Gojo pushes back into him.
Yuji’s always known that Gojo was strong, the strongest, and yeah, Gojo has always been able to position him or throw him around like a doll, but now? His strength is insane. Yuji’s fingers scrabble for purchase at any expanse of skin he can reach, the sheets, his own dick, anything to hold onto. His head knocks against the headboard, and Gojo drags him back further onto his cock.
“Just where do you think you’re going, huh?” Gojo squeezes Yuji’s thigh, almost hard enough to bruise and if it weren’t for the fact that Yuji already had a boyfriend, he would want it to.
“It’s ah- all y- you-“ Yuji manages. His breath comes out in short moans and whines, and it feels like Gojo’s cock is all the way in his ribcage. “Sensei, fuck-“ Yuji’s head starts to feel fuzzy, his vision blurring out everything that isn’t Gojo. “Satoru, I- shit, Sensei-“
Gojo’s phone rings. The personalized ringtone cuts through the fog, and Yuji’s blood runs cold. He expects the call to go ignored, silenced at best, but to his horror, Gojo leans over to pick it up. And the bastard fucking answers.
“Hey-o,” Gojo greets, light and cheery as though he were enjoying a nice afternoon stroll and not fucking Yuji stupid. He hums thoughtfully, his eyes not leaving Yuji’s face as he slows his pace, but doesn’t stop. “Nah, I’m not busy. Just a little training. What do you need, Megumi?” Gojo grins down at him. He’s teasing him, daring him to make a sound. Yuji gawks at him.
“Satoru!” Yuji hisses at him, barely audible. Gojo snaps his hips forward suddenly, punching a moan out of Yuji that he barely manages to stifle with a hand over his mouth.
“Eh? What was what? You need to be focusing, Megumi,” Gojo says. His tone is even, but Yuji can see the shake in his hand, the fire in his eyes. “You can’t just call me to check on your boyfriend. I’m very busy, you know!” Gojo winks, and Yuji decides right then and there that if Gojo is gonna act like a dick, he’ll be a little shit right back.
Yuji hooks his ankle around Gojo’s waist, pulling him deeper in one swift motion as he clenches around his cock. Gojo gasps, his eyes briefly fluttering shut.
“I’m fine,” Gojo says, although it’s slightly strained. Yuji grins up at him. He might be dooming himself with his next move, but so be it. He drags his hands up his body, cups his tits before trailing one hand back down to lazily stroke his own cock. He pinches one of his nipples with his free hand, biting his lip as he rolls it between his fingers. It’s too risky to openly moan or beg Gojo, but Yuji allows himself soft pants and gasps. Gojo swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he makes his best effort at maintaining his composure.
“Gojo-sensei,” Yuji tries, keeping his voice low. He doesn’t have to be very loud, Gojo’s eyes haven’t left his face once and he would probably understand him even if Yuji only mouthed the words. “Sensei, please-“
“I have to go, Megumi,” Gojo interjects. “You’ll be fine, and Ichiji is there if you need anything. Good luck!” Gojo practically chucks the phone across the room. Yuji giggles at Gojo’s groan as he picks up his bruising pace once again.
“Fuck, Yuji. You’re lucky I love you.” Yuji can only moan in response, stroking himself faster as Gojo fucks into him harder. He slaps the boy’s hand away, folding Yuji in half to pin his wrists above his head. “Just for that, you’re gonna cum on my cock and nothing else, and not until I tell you. Got that?” Yuji whines, his whole body is on fire and he wants to cum so bad, but the need to obey Gojo overtakes him. He nods, hiccuping as tears start to pour down his face.
“Y- ah- yes, Sensei,” Yuji sobs. Gojo licks the tears off of his cheek before pressing a salty kiss to his lips.
“Such a good boy for Sensei, aren’t you, baby?” Gojo pulls back, and Yuji might mourn the loss if both of his legs weren’t being tossed over Gojo’s shoulders. The hand is gone from his wrists but he doesn’t dare move them.
“Just for- mm- just for you, Sensei-“ Yuji gasps. Gojo has picked up the pace, slamming into Yuji so brutally that he swears his organs will be bruised tomorrow. Gojo shifts, ever so slightly, and it sends white hot electricity up Yuji’s spine.
“Let me hear you, baby,” Gojo says. He bites Yuji on the inside of his knee, the only place he can really reach, and Yuji cries out. “Tell Sensei how good he makes you feel, yeah? How much you like being full of my cock.” Gojo’s hips stutter, and Yuji knows he’s close. It’s like a dam breaks, and he can’t stop himself from babbling Gojo’s name like a prayer.
“Please, Sensei, I- ah, don’t stop- feels so good, Gojo-sensei, can I- oh-“ Yuji sobs. He isn’t sure how much more his body can take. He wants to cum so badly it hurts, but he’s determined to follow the instructions he’s been given. “Please, G- ah, fuck, fuck- your cock feels so g- good, please, can I cum? Please, Sensei, pl- oh-!” Gojo laughs, and it sounds like pure sunshine to Yuji’s ears. He’s beyond fucked stupid at this point, pure putty in his teacher’s hands.
“Since you asked so nicely…” Gojo hesitates, testing Yuji’s patience. There’s no patience left to be had, and Yuji chokes on a sob. “Go ahead. Be a good boy for Sensei, hm?”
“Satoru-!” Yuji’s vision leaves him, his entire body quaking as he cums so hard that he truly thinks he might die. He’s distantly aware of the feeling of Gojo spilling inside him, groaning a string of praises with Yuji’s name mixed in. If this is how he dies, it’s a damn good death.
Megumi stares at the phone in his hand, horrified. Kugisaki returns from the second floor of the building they’d just finished clearing, catching the very end of the noise before the other end of the line goes quiet. It’s muffled, distant even on speaker phone, but Megumi would know that voice anywhere.
“Satoru!”
“Is that…” Kugisaki wears a strange expression that Megumi has never seen before.
“Yuji.” Megumi doesn’t even need to hear the full question. Wishes he hadn’t heard anything at all the past few minutes.
“But isn’t he with-“
“Gojo.” Megumi has never felt more angry in his life. Which is a little hypocritical, he supposes, since he was in a similar situation with Sukuna only days early. Somehow, that feels completely different. At least Sukuna is still in Yuji’s body! And Gojo- Gojo is a teacher! Hell, he’s practically Megumi’s parent, as much as it pains him to admit. The fucker is his emergency contact, for fuck’s sake!
He doesn’t realize he’s thrown his phone until he hears it shatter against the floor. Kugisaki hesitates, as though she isn’t sure of the right thing to say. How could she be? What do you even say when your friend calls your teacher only to find him halfway through fucking his boyfriend? Megumi swears his sees red.
“I’m gonna fucking kill him.”