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"Take off your shirt."
The words hit Yuuta square in the chest — not a suggestion, not a request, but a force that bypassed his brain entirely. Before the echo of Toge’s voice had faded from the stale hotel-room air, Yuuta’s fingers were already moving, working the top button of his white uniform shirt with a mindless efficiency that made his stomach drop.
The fabric whispered off his shoulders. It pooled in a pale crescent on the grimy carpet. Cold air — the rattling AC unit had been wheezing since they checked in — rushed across his bare chest and arms, and the shock of it snapped something loose. Yuuta blinked down at his own hands, still hovering at the last button, waiting for his brain to catch up with a body that had just betrayed him.
He lifted his head. Toge stood three feet away, backlit by the single flickering bulb in the ceiling fixture. White hair stuck up in chaotic spikes, some of them still damp from the rain they’d sprinted through after the mission. His purple eyes — deep violet, almost bruised in this terrible light — were fixed on Yuuta with an intensity that made the cold feel like a second thought.
“What the fuck was that?” Yuuta’s voice came out thinner than he intended. “I told you to try and talk to me, not command me to undress myself.”
Toge sighed through his nose, a short, sharp sound. His hands rose. The finger-spell shapes were fluid, practiced, and Yuuta had spent enough time around him by now to read the signs without lag: That’s my point. Anything I sign will sound like a command anyway.
Yuuta opened his mouth. Closed it. “And how does that turn into 'get naked'?”
The corners of Toge’s lips twitched upward, barely a ghost of a smile. His hands moved again, slower this time. If we were going to do this, I at least wanted a good view.
Then Toge’s gaze dropped. Not to the floor — it paused on Yuuta’s torso, tracing the line of his collarbone, the curve of his sternum, the lean definition that months of combat training had carved into his abdomen. Yuuta felt bizarrely exposed. The hairs on his arms stood on end, a shiver rippling down to his ribs. He felt heat crawl up the back of his neck.
“What are you doing, Toge?” The question scratched against a throat that had gone completely dry.
Toge’s eyes snapped back up. His hands posed the question Yuuta couldn't run from: What do you want me to do?
Yuuta shuddered. It wasn't from the cold. The certainty had been building since the moment they stepped into this room with its single bed: agreeing to share it had been a stupid idea. But after everything — the chaos of the jujutsu world, curses nearly ripping them both in half, the heavy exhaustion settled into his bones — he hadn't wanted to leave Inumaki alone. Toge might be one of the strongest sorcerers alive, a weapon that bent reality with his voice, but he was still Toge. Quiet. Observant. The kind of person who made you want to be close, even if you couldn't explain why.
Yuuta crossed his arms over his chest, hesitated, and let them drop again. “I don't know,” he confessed. “Try speaking to me again. But without commanding.”
Toge parted his lips. His jaw shifted, testing a syllable that died before it could escape. He let out a sharp click of his tongue, a frustrated sound, and his hands came up quickly, almost irritated. I can't think of anything that doesn't sound like an order.
Yuuta inhaled, trying to anchor himself. The air tasted of dust and that strange, metallic tang of residual cursed energy left over from missions. “You told me once that a strong sorcerer could resist your commands, didn't you?”
You think you're strong enough? Toge signed. Even without sound, the provocation was palpable. A crooked challenge.
“I want to try.” The words were out before Yuuta could bite his tongue. He held Toge's gaze. “I want to be able to hear your voice. I want to understand you, to know what you're thinking. So, please, let me try.”
Toge’s hands froze mid-air. His expression shifted — a clean, disarmed surprise that softened the sharp angles of his face. For a second, he looked younger. Less like a living weapon, more like the boy Yuuta had been trying to decipher for months.
Toge took a step forward, leaned his body in slightly, and spoke.
“Kneel.”
The word hit like a physical punch. It slammed into Yuuta’s chest and exploded down his legs, locking his joints before he could even think of resisting. His knees hit the carpet with a dull thud. The pain of the impact shot up his kneecaps, and he had to plant both palms against the rough floor to keep from falling flat on his face, staring directly at Toge’s combat boots — caked in dried mud.
Yuuta’s breath came short and fast. He looked up.
Toge smiled. A faint, lopsided thing. Half-apologetic, but not really.
“You have to warn me first,” Yuuta said, but the irritation died halfway through because, from this angle, Toge was so unfair.
The harsh ceiling light caught the line of his neck, his sharp jawline, the way his lips parted to reveal the dark ink of the cursed seals on his tongue. He was looking down at Yuuta with a mix of curiosity and something else — something hungrier.
Sorry. Toge’s hands traced the word.
Yuuta completely forgot why he was supposed to be angry. Because he had buried his feelings for Toge deep within his bones, in the gaps between cursed energy flows, repressing them so deeply they could only escape in the quiet minutes before sleep, when he could pretend the obstacles between them didn't exist.
Toge was the heir to an important clan, master of a technique everyone feared, with an entire future ahead of him. And Yuuta didn't want to taint his image, to make it impossible for the man to raise to his station due to the restrictive practices that permeated the conservative jujutsu world.
So he had locked it all away. He build an iron lock around his fellings with all his strength. But here on the floor, with Toge’s shadow draping over his body, that lock felt like cheap plastic.
Can I try again?
Yuuta nodded, still on his knees.
“Stand up,” Toge said.
His body obeyed instantly — a clean, automatic motion — and suddenly he was on his feet, close enough to feel the heat radiating off Toge's skin. Yuuta was a few inches taller, so the perspective shifted. This time he was the one looking down, and the inversion made his stomach knot.
“Right, this isn't working.” Yuuta’s voice was steadier now. “Try saying more than one thing in a row. I’ll try to block at least one.”
Toge narrowed his eyes, calculating. Then he fired it off, fast: “Get on the bed, hold me, and tell me you love me.”
Yuuta’s body didn't even consider the possibility of resisting. It took two automatic steps toward the bed, his back hitting the thin mattress, which groaned under his weight. His arms wrapped around Toge, who had somehow already fallen over him — warm, heavy, smelling of rain-soaked cloth, the ozone of curses, and, deep down, that cheap hotel soap they had both used. Yuuta’s brain short-circuited.
“I love you.”
The words spilled straight out. No filter, no way to stop them. His lips moved on their own, and the confession filled the cramped space compressed between them. His heart was hammering so hard he could feel it in his temples.
“Wait, what—”
His arms remained locked around Toge’s back, one hand splayed between his shoulder blades and the other firm on his waist. Toge hid his face in the crook of Yuuta’s neck, his hot breath hitting Yuuta's pulse point. Every brush of air sent a shiver straight down Yuuta's spine.
“I like you,” Toge whispered. It wasn't an order. Just a sentence, muffled against his skin.
Yuuta’s chest twinged. For the longest time, love to him had been synonymous with a haunting. Loving Rika had become a blood pact, a monstrous entity that destroyed everything around it to protect him. It was a crushing weight. But this? Toge’s low voice didn't feel like an anchor dragging him under. It was just... human. Small, clean, with no violence behind it.
Time seemed to slow down. Nearly a whole minute passed before Toge spoke again.
“You can let go of me.”
Yuuta didn't move.
His arms stayed locked. He pressed his face into Toge’s hair, closing his eyes. He didn't want to let go. The realization hit him raw and bare in his chest: he didn't want to lose this weight, this warmth, this truth that had been ripped from him by a command, but was now entirely his own.
“I love you,” Yuuta repeated. This time with his own voice. Choosing every syllable. But it lacked the desperate gravity of what he had done with Rika; it was light. It didn't feel like a mistake. “Really. For a while now.” His throat tightened. “I want to stay close.”
Toge pulled back slightly. Just enough to free his hands, moving his fingers in the narrow space between their chests.
I know.
Those purple eyes locked onto his, wide open. But I wasn't ready before. Now I am. If you want me.
Blood rushed in Yuuta’s ears. “I do,” his voice came out a bit rough. “I do, I do, yes.”
Kiss me.
It wasn't spoken, but Yuuta obeyed as if it were. He surged upward, shattering the distance, and found Toge’s mouth with a frantic rush that startled even himself. The first touch felt like a short circuit of pure heat, and when Toge parted his lips, the rest of the room vanished.
The kiss was hungry. Months of built-up longing pouring out all at once through their fingers, their mouths. Yuuta buried his hands in Toge’s hair — those white strands that always looked windswept — and the texture was so much softer than he had imagined. Fine silk, slipping through his fingers like water. He tugged gently, pulling Toge even closer, and heard the other boy let out a muffled sound against his mouth — a catch of breath that sounded like his name.
Toge’s tongue nudged his lower lip, and Yuuta’s entire world narrowed down to that single point of contact. There was a slightly bitter taste, the trace of the seals, but underneath it was just hot skin. Yuuta pressed in, a little clumsy, and Toge responded with a controlled intensity that made his head spin. The rhythm of the kiss broke, teeth clipping lightly, their breaths tangling unevenly.
When Toge broke the contact, his lips were flushed and swollen, the dark markings on his tongue flashing briefly behind his teeth. His chest rose and fell in quick pants.
Want me to keep talking? His hands signed, a raised eyebrow making the gesture overtly provocative.
Yuuta’s face burned. Thoughts he had spent months shoving to the back of his mind decided to surface all at once. He nodded, giving up on hiding his embarrassment. His erection was already straining hard against his uniform pants, and the thick fabric did nothing to hide it.
The smile Toge gave him was wicked. Sharp. The kind of look that promised things Yuuta didn't even have the courage to picture. It made his stomach do a flip.
Then Toge began pulling at Yuuta’s uniform, undoing the clasps with the practiced ease of someone who had stripped out of those sorcerer clothes a hundred times. In return, Yuuta started to pull at his shirt, interrupting the motion to make him toss the fabric aside. Yuuta lost his breath.
Toge’s chest was lean and defined, his collarbones prominent and his shoulders smooth under the dim light. His skin was incredibly pale — paler than Yuuta’s — making the dark seals on his cheeks look like they’d been drawn in ink. A thin scar ran diagonally across his ribs, an old white line that Yuuta felt a sudden, fierce urge to press his lips against.
Toge’s hands slid down to the waistband of Yuuta’s pants. He hooked his fingers into the fabric of both his trousers and underwear, pausing to look up, asking with his eyes. His other hand flashed a quick sign.
Can I?
The moisture vanished from Yuuta’s mouth. He swallowed hard and nodded.
The cloth slid down his hips, taking everything with it, and the cold room air hit his skin. He was completely erect, the tip already weeping, and his immediate instinct was to try and cover himself with his hand. He didn't get the chance. Toge leaned over and took him straight into his mouth.
Hot. Unbelievably wet, an absurd heat enveloping everything. Yuuta had never felt anything like it. Being a virgin — in the absolute truest sense of the word — the first glide of Toge’s lips down his length made his mind go blank. A groan tried to tear up his throat, and he barely had time to cram the palm of his hand into his mouth to muffle the sound.
Toge knew exactly what he was doing. He started slow, working the head, his tongue pressing against the base before swirling around the top. Then he took more, his throat tightening around him, and the sensation was so intense that Yuuta’s vision threatened to turn into blackness. He bit into the flesh of his own hand, holding back the sounds begging to break free.
Toge looked up. His purple eyes were heavy-lidded, blown out, and the image of him right there — lips stretched tight around him — was so overwhelming that Yuuta had to squeeze his eyes shut. His hips gave an involuntary twitch, and Toge let out a vibrating hum of approval, a rush of air that dragged a choked groan out of Yuuta.
Toge pulled off him all at once with a wet click. A string of saliva stretched from his lip to the tip of Yuuta's length.
“Don't hold it back.”
The command hit like a blow. His body obeyed before his brain could process it, every muscle contracting at once in a violent release. The orgasm ripped through him without warning, too intense, entirely out of his control. Yuuta arched his back, lifting his hips off the mattress, his fingers clawing into the sheets as he came in thick, white spurts across his own stomach and directly onto Toge’s face.
The fluid splattered across Toge's cheek, his nose, near his eyebrow. Toge didn't even blink. He kept his eyes open, watching Yuuta’s face come undone in the climax, his expression a mix of curiosity and deep satisfaction.
When the tremors finally stopped, Yuuta collapsed back onto the bed, his chest heaving at a ridiculous speed. His ears were ringing. He stared up at the water stains on the ceiling, trying to remember how to breathe.
Toge pulled back, blinking. A drop rolled down his chin onto the discarded shirt on the floor. His hands came up. Sorry. Wasn't supposed to happen that fast.
Yuuta let out a weak, breathless laugh. “It’s fine,” his voice came out raspy. He forced his eyes to focus on Toge’s face, on the mess he had made. “My bad. I wanted to last longer.”
Toge shook his head, already using a clean part of his uniform shirt to wipe his face with calm, unbothered movements. When he finished, he looked down at Yuuta with a wicked glint in his eyes.
How long until we keep going?
Yuuta’s brain, still half-melted, took a moment to process the question. He was nineteen; his refractory period was practically a superpower. “A minute or two.”
A slow smile spread across Toge’s face. His hands moved.
Shall I?
Before Yuuta could decipher the sign, Toge leaned close, pressing his lips right against the shell of Yuuta’s ear. His hot breath brushed the sensitive skin.
“Get hard again.”
The whisper was pure command, and Yuuta's body had already learned that disobedience was impossible. The blood rushed back down with an urgency that verged on painful. Within three heartbeats, his softened length woke up, engorged, and stood completely erect, pulsing against his stomach. The sensation was overwhelming — too sensitive, too desperate, far more intense than the first time.
Yuuta looked down and then back at Toge. “I don't think the gods had this in mind when they gave you Cursed Speech.”
Toge shrugged, wearing the most innocent face in the world. His fingers flew through the signs: I think they had exactly this in mind.
And then he brought his head back down, and Yuuta didn't even have time to formulate a reply before that mouth closed around him once more.
The second time was different. More aggressive. Yuuta was still hyper-sensitive from the first release, and every swipe of Toge’s tongue felt like an electric shock traveling straight up his spine. His thighs trembled. His hands went straight for Toge’s hair — not to push him away, but just to have something to hold onto. The fine strands slipped through his fingers as Toge bobbed his head in a slow, deep rhythm, taking him all the way in before sliding back to lick the head.
The room filled with a heavy, musky scent, thick with the heat of their bodies and the metallic tang of their cursed energies mingling together. It wasn't the violent aura of a battle, but a dense pressure that blanketed the space. The springs of the mattress creaked as Yuuta gave small, involuntary thrusts with his hips. His breath was trapped in his throat. He was close again — too close — and his mind rebelled against the idea of letting a command dictate the finish this time. He wanted to feel the transition.
“I’m going to come,” Yuuta managed quickly, the words rattling against his teeth. “But I don't want it to be like that. Not because I have to.”
Toge pulled back with a wet sound, looking up at him with glistening lips and incredibly dark eyes. He tilted his head slightly, waiting, the seals on his cheeks flushed deep red from the heat.
Yuuta felt his face burn. “I’ve never... never done this. Any of this.” He gestured to the space between them. “I want to feel it. Feel you.”
Toge’s expression softened. His hands moved slowly, almost teasingly patient. Want to be on top or on bottom?
“I...” Yuuta swallowed hard, his head spinning at the sheer intimacy of the question. “I don't know. I’ve never—”
Want to fuck me this time?
The sentence struck Yuuta hard in the chest. This time. A promise that there would be a next time. A future where love didn't come with a death sentence attached.
“Yes,” Yuuta breathed, the sound torn from the depth of his chest. “I really do.”
Toge gave that same sharp smile. He sat back on his heels and reached out to grab a small, clear bottle of lubricant from the backpack resting near the headboard. He handed it over with a heavy look that made Yuuta’s blood boil.
As Toge laid back, stripping out of his pants with practiced ease, Yuuta felt a strange kind of reverence stall his movements. This wasn't a curse he needed to tame; this was Toge offering himself up.
“Wait,” Yuuta said, moving to his knees, his hands shaking as he flipped the cap open. “Let me do it.”
Toge propped his weight on his elbows, arching an eyebrow in a silent invitation.
The gel felt cold on Yuuta’s fingers, cutting through the heat radiating from Toge’s thighs. When he parted Toge's legs, pressing a slicked finger against the tight, warm entrance, Toge’s eyelashes fluttered and he let out a sharp breath through his nose.
“Does it hurt?” Yuuta’s voice was a whisper, terrified of causing harm.
Toge simply shook his head, his fingers spelling out quickly: More.
Yuuta pushed his finger in slowly, feeling the tight pressure clamp around his skin in an absurd heat. Toge’s jaw clenched, and the dark ink of the seals on his tongue appeared vivid behind his teeth as his hips gave a small spasm. Seeing the strongest living user of Cursed Speech trembling beneath his hand sent a jolt of electricity straight to Yuuta’s length.
He added a second finger, widening the space with care. Toge buried his face into the pillow, letting out a muffled whimper. They fell into a loose, unpracticed rhythm — Yuuta testing the boundaries, Toge adjusting his body with small movements of his pelvis — until Yuuta withdrew his fingers, which came away slick and hot.
Yuuta positioned himself, the head of his length pressing against Toge’s entrance. The air in the room felt too thick to breathe.
“Stop.”
The order froze Yuuta mid-motion. His hips locked in place. He was a millimeter away, his skin just brushing against Toge’s heat. The forced immobility was pure torture; his body screamed to move forward, but his nervous system was completely hijacked.
“Hands up. Stay still.”
Yuuta’s arms went up automatically, his wrists crossing above his head as if bound by a heavy rope. He became a statue, staring down at Toge with eyes wide with frustration.
Toge gave a short smile, pure provocation gleaming in his eyes. He lifted his body slowly, unhurried, until he was sitting astride Yuuta’s lap. He gripped Yuuta’s length with one hand, aimed, and, agonizingly slow, sank his weight down.
The sensation was overwhelming. The tight heat swallowed Yuuta inch by inch. He couldn't thrust, couldn't shift his hips, couldn't do a single thing but endure the internal walls of Toge clamping down around him. Toge sank all the way down, taking him completely, and Yuuta’s vision literally swam.
Toge began to move. A circular, grinding motion, lifting and dropping his hips in a way that dragged completely ungraceful sounds from Yuuta’s throat. Every time instinct told Yuuta to drive upward, his muscles locked up in a sharp ache. He was entirely at Toge’s mercy, his arms trapped in the air, serving as the passive anchor for Toge’s pleasure. It was a bizarre loss of control, a total surrender that Yuuta hadn't even realized he craved so badly.
Sweat rolled down Toge’s collarbone, glistening in the dim light. His breath was a series of clipped sighs, his interior squeezing Yuuta’s length in rapid spasms. Their gazes remained glued together — the light hazel of Yuuta’s eyes drowning in the dark violet of Toge’s.
“Release,” Toge gasped out.
The bindings vanished instantly. The sudden return of control made Yuuta’s spine snap taut. With a feral sound ripping from his throat, his hands shot down, gripping Toge’s waist hard enough to leave marks. In one fluid motion, he flipped them over on the bed, pinning Toge beneath him as their mouths clashed in a bruising kiss, teeth clicking together.
Yuuta lost his brakes. He began to drive into him with everything he had held back, any semblance of patience or caution burning away in the frantic rush of months of denial. The room grew loud with the sound of impacting bodies and the dry groan of the old mattress. Toge locked his legs around Yuuta’s waist, his heels digging into Yuuta's back to pull him even deeper, his nails scratching at Yuuta’s shoulders.
The cursed energy in the room surged with them, a suffocating pressure that threatened to pop their ears. The seals on Toge’s face seemed to darken with every heavy thrust, his head thrown back against the pillow as he let out short, voiceless cries. Yuuta kept driving, burying himself in him in a way that felt half like destruction, half like salvation.
Toge tugged at Yuuta’s damp hair with one hand, pulling his head down until their foreheads rested together. His eyes were wide open, pupils completely dilated with pleasure, and his lips shifted to release the final word.
“Cum.”
The world didn't end; it simply shattered.
The command didn't trigger a normal orgasm — it ripped the semen out of Yuuta’s biology by sheer force. His nervous system didn't respond; it exploded. His back arched in a rigid spasm, his vision going completely white as his mind felt violently ejected from his body. It was a total purge. He discharged so violently that his consciousness fractured, a torn cry tearing from his chest, echoing against the empty walls as he emptied himself inside Toge in searing bursts.
He floated in a white void for a span of time that couldn't be measured. There was no Rika, no curses, no jujutsu high. Just the absolute silence of a mind that had been bleached completely clean.
When reality finally stitched itself back together, Yuuta realized he was lying heavily over Toge’s chest, their bodies still joined. His heart was hammering like a trapped animal against his ribs, his arms and legs feeling like lead weights.
Toge looked up at him from below, his purple eyes sharply focused, tracking every ragged breath and every lingering tremor Yuuta's body gave. His hands rose, the signs coming out small, slightly shaky, but incredibly gentle against Yuuta’s sweat-slicked face.
Was it too much? I have never tried it before.
Yuuta’s throat swallowed, but no voice came. He couldn't speak, couldn't think. The sheer magnitude of what Toge’s voice could do to him — and how utterly surrendered he was to it — knotted tightly in his chest. It had been too much. It had been everything.
Do I need to apologize? Toge signed, a genuine worry softening his gaze.
Yuuta managed to shake his head weakly from side to side, burying his face into the crook of Toge’s neck. “No. Never.”
Toge’s chest shook with a short, relieved laugh. His fingers began to trace mindless patterns across Yuuta’s back, soothing away the final traces of adrenaline.
Then, with that same crooked glint returning to his eyes, Toge lifted his hands one more time, in a gesture that was short, quick, and completely shameless.
Want to go again?