Chapter Text
“Satoru~!”
Satoru snickered at the slurred excitement that alerted the others to his presence, allowing Suguru to stumble into his arms. Whiskey mingled with sandalwood and juniper, and despite disliking the noxious swill, it’s a pleasant combination.
Or maybe he’s just generally addicted to Suguru’s scent and babbling nonsense to make it sound prettier.
“You should’ve come along.” Shoko tipped her glass his way. It was half full, its contents the same colour as the dregs left in Suguru’s glass. It’s Yamazaki this time, surprising considering it’s one that he half enjoys. He assumed she’d hate the sweetness. It does have over forty percent though, she must have decided that getting drunker quicker was worth the taste.
“Designated driving’s so not my style, Sho,” he fired back, managing to keep his voice steady even as Suguru started nuzzling into the side of his nape. He ruffled the loose black strands more than necessary in his response. “You can call Ijichi, your phone works.”
“Yeah, yeah, picking a man over your best friend again, I hear ya~” she teased, pulling Utahime’s arm down from where she’d started scolding him for ‘Taking advantage of his coworkers.’ She eyed the way Suguru had coiled around him and Satoru pulled down his shades to make sure she could see him rolling his eyes, inciting a snorting laugh. She was drunker than he figured.
“Some people still have students to watch over.” He dislodged Suguru’s arms from his waist and tried to ignore the blush at the petulant whine it elicited, maneuvering the fussing man’s arm over his shoulder. Suguru moved it around his waist and Satoru pulled at his ear from where he was forced to put his arm over his shoulder for lack of space. He only got a cheeky grin in response. Dickhead. “The Great Teacher Gojo can’t neglect his duties after all!”
“Just say you’re too busy with being a helicopter mom.” She slid him Suguru’s phone, screen still on his and Satoru’s shared convo from when he’d been badgering him over incomprehensible texts earlier. “They’re teens now. You don’t have to motherhen over them so much.”
He stuck out his tongue at her, snickering at how she flipped him off. “It’s called being a responsible parent, they’ve never been in dorms before, I’m trying to transition them! Speaking of responsibility, text when you’re home! Bye Sho!”
He tried not to let his laughter be too overt as he feigned ignorance to Utahime’s muddled reprimands at him not extending his farewell to her. He pulled Suguru through the crowd. If it weren’t for the sale on the board outside, he wouldn’t understand why they chose somewhere so crowded.
“Satoru.”
“Hm?”
“You’re so pretty, you know?” The shoddy lighting and moonless sky thankfully hid his reddening cheeks. It wasn’t cold enough to write it off as the temperature.
“Yeah?”
Suguru pushed his way closer, making it harder to walk. The streets were more empty at least, it wouldn’t take long to find somewhere indiscrete enough to warp. “Yeah. I don’t like it.”
Satoru’s left eye twitched, and he fought the urge to smack the drunk upside the head, “Well fuck you too, asshole.”
“No, I like it— well, I hate it— urgh…” The man wiggled out of his grasp and blocked him from moving forward. At least they’d gotten into the alley, “I like you being pretty, I don’t like people looking at your pretty.”
Satoru blinked at the serious— well, as serious as a piss-drunk man could get— look in his eye, and couldn’t help the smile that split across his face. Satoru pressed a brief peck to the corner of Suguru’s lips and tried not to read too deeply into the awe he received in response or the way Suguru’s flush got deeper.
Suguru didn’t seem green in the gills this time when they teleported, just a bit quiet. Satoru pulled his coat off before he sat him on the edge of the bed, kneeling to take off his shoes.
He detours to the entryway to put them on the shoe rack before continuing to the kitchen, grabbing a slice of the pizza they’d grabbed earlier in the week when they were both too tired to cook and had no kids to worry about. He filled a cup of water while it reheated and tossed a two-pack of pain killers on the plate for the inevitable next morning misery before returning. He wrinkled his nose even as a low heat began to simmer in his gut.
Suguru had passed out in his short absence, his torso bending the walls of his nest. Satoru couldn’t be upset at it, a slight dizziness overtaking him as he set his cargo on the closest bedside table.
“Suguru?” he tried, voice at normal volume as he shook his shoulder. No reaction. He called again, a bit louder each time and shaking just that bit rougher. Nada. Zilch. Zero. The guy was dead to the world.
He could see the rising and falling of Suguru’s chest, the way his cursed energy flowed being consistent with a sleeping Suguru, even if slower, more lethargic. He bit his lip, moving to the closet and taking out a towel. He didn’t try to be quiet; if he woke up, it meant it wasn’t the night after all.
Satoru placed the towel in the center of the nest before lifting and setting the alpha into it, absently fixing the flattening of the wall. He pulled the sweats from his hips and deliberated for a moment before pulling down the boxers as well. It only took a second before he was on his stomach between Suguru’s thighs, letting the drool that formed leak onto and down the flaccid head before stroking slowly. He chewed the inside of his cheek as it steadily thickened in his grasp, impatiently nipping at his alpha’s sack and relishing in being so surrounded by his scent, the sandalwood slowly catching fire.
You see, Satoru had a habit. A bad, awful, horrible habit.
It happened infrequently, when Suguru’s social drinking went beyond the man’s capacity. When Suguru drank enough that he’d fall into a deep slumber, unable to be interrupted by anything short of an earthquake, Satoru would… release his urges.
It was fucked up, he knew. It was unconscionable, taking advantage of thirteen years of trust and affection to take the thing he was too cowardly to go after.
He ran his tongue up the underside, taking the head into his mouth, swirling it on his tongue. It was sweeter than last time, he may have insisted on sharing his lunch today. It was better to drink on a full stomach, true, but he had hoped to counter the garlic butadon just in case this happened. How lucky Suguru was always so indulgent of him~
He suckled on the head glancing up at his love. Flushed, yes, but still ever deep in dreams. Were they of him? Did he feel the tongue lap at the pre dribbling from his slit and see Satoru? Did he buck into the back of his throat and conclude in his mind's eye that he was sharing the bed as mates, husband and wife, instead of just mother and father?
It better be.
No one else was allowed to replace him. Satoru would stain his hands in red long before anyone else took his place. He let his fangs drag over the shaft as he pulled up and sunk down to the root, irrationally annoyed at the mere notion. You only ever got one true love, and he wouldn’t ever have a substitute, nor would Suguru. Even if Suguru woke up and hated him, he’d never let him go.
Did Suguru seriously think any other guy would just get to lounge in his nest? Satoru squeezed at his scrotum, easing up and kissing at it apologetically when Suguru winced minutely. He mouthed at the side as he shimmied out of his pants, unwilling to put distance despite how much faster it would be.
Suguru was always his better half, more patient, more polite, and a kinder guy. He’d probably be more prudish about it all, doting and wanting to do it right.
Not like Satoru. He would wait, have their first time after a cute date given the choice.
His breaths sounded so loud in the silence, harsh and fast as he scrambled up, taking a seat on Suguru’s thighs and fighting a keen as he pressed their most private parts together. It was an old dance; the thick, long cock already wet with spit made wetter still by being forced between the lips of his labia. Satoru moaned at the sensation, rolling his hips, losing strength in his arms as his twitching forced the glans to press against his clit.
His huffing intermingled with Suguru’s slight panting and he stared at Suguru’s lips. Every line, every curve. They were chapped now, just a bit, enough to be visible. Satoru squeezed his eyes shut and rolled his hips, breath hitching at the mounting pleasure. He felt his gut shiver before a gush of slick made the movement more sloppy and he took Suguru’s head and buried it back into the crook of his neck, returning their position to earlier in the night.
He never drugged Suguru; it was always something that he left up to fate. He wanted Suguru to find out fair and square if he was going to learn of his sins at all, even if it spelt ruin for their peace and an end to Satoru’s happiness for good if Suguru rightfully discarded the crazy bitch he’d tied himself to. It wasn’t likely given Suguru’s reasonable grasp on social norms, propriety, and, well, consent, but he always hoped if Suguru did stir and find his cock sliding on the underside of Satoru’s clit that he’d take hold of his waist and fuck him open. He hoped he’d open his mouth, letting those unfairly sharp canines sink into Satoru’s neck, taking him as his wife in the roughest way to avenge his dignity, and discipline the whore he’d be forced to tame.
Satoru whined, high and humiliating as he buried his face in those long, soft tresses. He half-released the hold he’d trapped Suguru in to slip his hand between them. He’d long forgone pretending it was an accident when he’d get the glans to slide into his vagina. It was a faux balm to his guilt, to say it was fine he was sliding his cunt over hard abs, fat cock and worshipping the cock like a nun at an altar, but to take it was the step too far.
It was all bad, it was all fucked, and pretending to be a good person was moot. He lined them up with ease, seeing the movement with his eyes that never stopped seeing and he keened as it forced his hole to take it.
He never prepared himself adequately, only letting his cunt soak in the opening debauchery as he made Suguru hard. He deserved the burn, he needed it to remind himself he was a bad man. Fingering was for when he or Suguru were on assignment and he was being Satoru, hopelessly in love, the fool who yearned for the man that was father of his children, his roommate, his one and only forever and ever. No, no, when Satoru was succumbing to the desire that melted his insides and let the lust leak from his core, he didn’t get to make it easier.
Suguru deserved to hurt him back, he deserve to pry his cunt open, dominate his weak vagina with his unfairly strong cock until they were kissing inside: Suguru’s glans and Satoru’s cervix pressed together like their lips never did in matrimony, unholy yet so pure.
He didn’t care about biological kids, he’d taken on four before he even was grown himself and dealt with superpowered kids on the daily, but fuck, he wanted them for Suguru. He saw how much he loved being a dad, he’d always seen it, and had to force himself to focus on the scent of nearby pups to not let his pussy drool and his scent reveal how much he wanted to make him a daddy again. He’d let him inside his womb if Suguru wanted. If Suguru loved him back, if he would finally take him as his, he’d let him implant his seed with no way for his eggs to escape. He’d ruin his perfect spinster’s figure: wide hips and chest and tiny waist, to become fat with Suguru’s baby. He’d gleefully watch himself take on a mother’s body if Suguru asked, stretchmarks and recovery and all if he requested it of him because he knew that Suguru would worship every change, praise him for bringing the product of their fervent love into the world.
But he hadn’t asked to. Suguru hadn’t asked to. Suguru probably didn’t even want him much less to saddle himself with more kids with him. So Satoru took it upon himself to get an implant and an IUD and take a morning-after pill because his body was rebellious like that. As if waiting for Suguru to change his mind. Because once he did, Satoru knew he'd want to know when they'd conceived their baby. He’d want to have lovey dovey sex where he’d have taken Satoru apart and made a pulpit of their bed as he delivered to the world their love and lust in a union that no one could break.
Satoru rotated his hips, grinding together with a sob as his pussy gushed around his beloved. His clit felt hot and throbbing where it pressed against his alpha’s pubic bone, even the wiry pubes almost too much on him. He buried his face into the pillow and had to force himself not to clutch Suguru too tightly, lest he cut off his air supply and reveal the debauchery he was subjecting him to. He couldn’t stop if he tried, just like he couldn’t stop letting his mind wander into wondrous what ifs.
He gulped down air as he lifted himself to slap their hips together. The sandalwood and juniper were burning in his nostrils. The forest was burning and he set it on fire, his benzoin up in flames and his petrichor picking up a tinge of ozone as the storm raged incessantly, neither giving in, creating tornado force concentrated right where they were connected. Skin on skin, only louder by the slick and sweat and precum splashing and near wetting their nest if he hadn’t the foresight to shield it. He preemptively mourned the mass never being properly christened by their essence, but this wasn’t yet their marriage bed. He wasn’t a wife yet, he was a depraved harlot ruining the sanctity of a good man, and he didn’t even feel bad about it.
Sure, he was scared of the consequences, scared of their relationship being torn into a shreds he’d never be able to stitch back together, of their family fracturing if everyone learnt he wasn’t a weapon or a teacher or a mother or a friend, but a fucked up little boy who couldn’t be normal and face the fear of rejection head-on, but instead swallowed up his love with the crushing wetness of his fucked out pussy. But guilt had slipped away in the haze of feeling so right, in cumming together with his beloved. So he’d wait. He’d wait for Suguru to see him, to learn he was good enough to be his in the one way he didn’t realize he already was. He’d wait for their lips to join instead of just his lips swallowing Suguru like the snake he was.
He bit the pillow to avoid taking Suguru’s remaining choice as the knot slipped into his cunt, as it spread his labia and pushed against his g-spot just as harshly as Suguru’s glans bullied his a-spot. It was too big to pull off, but still had a way to swell to lock inside. He kissed at Suguru’s hairline, only thing he could do other than hump into the knotting, knowing from experience that rubbing his clit to cum early would leave him so overwhelmed that he’d knock himself out with the overstimulation, a dangerous situation when he couldn’t guarantee he’d wake from the accidental cockwarming early enough to clean up and air out like last time.
“Suguru,” he mumbled, hazy and desperate. His hips jumped a bit as it got bigger and bigger and bigger, “I love you! Suguru, I love– love you– lo–ve S-Suguru, Su—”
He cut himself off, suffocating himself in the pillow and Suguru’s hair as it popped properly, slick spraying as he’d no choice but to squirt. “H-hot, it’s hot S’guru,” he babbled, feeling the semen take up so much space in him it felt there was nowhere else to go, not even mentally. It always surprised him how much it always was. He was doing good to help him, something so plentiful must be burdensome.
He kissed at his hairline, high slowly abating. He frowned a bit at the bits of drool he’d gotten into Suguru’s locks and laughed a bit at how much of a bastard he was to feel more bad about that than forcibly filling his womb with Suguru’s seed.
He hummed in consideration, running through the day in his mind before pausing in his recollection at just after the bar. At Suguru's admission of jealousy, he felt a warmth unfurl in his chest as he poked at the slumbering man’s cheek with a grin.
“Jealous, huh, Suguru-chan?” He giggled, a purr vibrating in his chest at the small evidence of maybe Suguru wanting him just the same. He paused at the knot loosening, warmth wetting the spot where they met.
He bit the inside of his cheek.
Maybe he could put off cleaning up for a bit longer.
“Suguru~!”
He groaned, turning his head to try to stifle in the pillows. He heard a click of a tongue before he was effortlessly dragged into a sitting position. He glared at Satoru, the bastard only snickering at his annoyance. At least he wasn’t so obnoxious as to fling open the curtains, but he figured it was more for his own benefit given he didn’t have any eye coverings yet.
He wishes he could hate that face, it was only harder when he could see those endless pools of cerulean and turquoise and sky and sea. Satoru’s teasing grin belied a sympathy as he pushed water and a plastic package into his hands.
And with that, he knew he’d never be able to be too mad at the other, drinking the liquid gold so quickly that he’d nearly ended up downing the painkillers dry until Satoru flicked his forehead and made him hold the cup for more water.
“Thanks, Satoru.” He smiled with just a bit less hellishness in his bones. His eyes weren’t nearly as good in the dark as the other’s but he swore he could see a bit of darkening under that ever present glow.
“Yeah, yeah, I wanted to make sure you weren’t dead before I left.” Satoru huffed, like Suguru couldn’t smell the sweetness that arose from his gratitude.
“How magnanimous of you,” He teased, laughing despite how the pills hadn’t really kicked in yet when Satoru pushed at his face.
“I have work to do, unlike some lucky bastards.”
Suguru shrugged, “It’s not my fault that Hoshi and Hakari decided to get suspended.”
Satoru grinned again, easier to see with the low lamp light the Six Eyes did not need. “That would never happen to the Great Teacher Gojo!”
“Didn’t you scout them?”
“Screw off!”