Chapter Text
It was the middle of lunch, and Satoru was upset. He had been upset ever since that happened, and honestly, who wouldn’t be? It was an assault to his senses, and no matter how much he lied to himself, saying that he was an adult, saying that he was fine, he wasn’t. Satoru was hurt.
He slumped his head against the desk, wishing that they could just eat lunch outside today. But it was too cold, it was too this, it was too that—He was too much of a child, and he always would be. He wasn’t stupid. Satoru knew that was the truth. At times, it felt like the only people who would take him seriously were his enemies. Maybe he should go on more missions. Maybe he should just run away.
Either way, it wouldn’t change that he felt right now, right at this very second, very much like dogshit.
“Satoru.” Ugh. Annoying. Not what he needed right now. “Satoru.”
“What, Suguru? I’m thinking about something right now.”
Irritated, Suguru put a thumb to his brow, and Satoru could hear it even though his eyes were closed and his face was smashed against the desk. “You thinking? That’s new.”
“Shut the fuck up.” Convincing. Real convincing, Gojo Satoru.
“I just want to know what you’re moping about.” Satoru lifted his head and realized how little sleep he had gotten. Why did he only have to feel that shit after he woke up?
Fixing his glasses, Satoru replied, “I am under no obligation to answer your interrogation.”
“Did you lose your DS again?”
“God, do you think I’m a kid, t—” He stopped, realizing. “Ughhhhh,” Satoru groaned, slouching back against the desk again, this time with his hands brutally clutching the roots of his hair. It didn’t really help.
Satoru heard the sound of a chair screeching across the floor as Suguru sat at the desk to his left. “So, what happened exactly?”
Satoru mumbled, “I confessed.”
“Confessed what? I’m not going to have to fill out a police report on your behalf, am I?”
Rolling his eyes, Satoru fumbled about with his upper body, getting into the most uncomfortable position humanly possible. “I told Ita-sen.”
“You’re so stupid,” Suguru said, laughing. “Did you pop a boner in front of him?”
Flushing a searing red, Satoru’s head jolted up defensively. “I did not.”
He might have, a little. The date had been going so well, too.
“What, we’re talking about boners?”
That was Shoko. She was standing behind Suguru, who turned around to greet her. “Yeah, Satoru confessed his undying love for Itadori-sensei with a raging erection. Can you believe it?”
“Wow,” Shoko said, completely deadpan. “I can.”
“God, why did I even say anything?” Satoru mumbled against his fist.
“And you got rejected,” Suguru said, leaning in.
“And why do you assume that?”
“Well, it sure doesn’t look like it was reciprocated.”
Satoru just didn’t respond this time. Suguru was right. He was flat out rejected. Yuuji hadn’t thought of it as romantic for a second, had he? And now it’d be awkward in class, on missions—Oh god, he hoped he wouldn’t have a mission with Yuuji, at least not until he figured out what the fuck to do about this. Or maybe he should. So he could stare at him and feel worse about himself longer.
“Sorry, I know some guys you can hook up with if you’re pent up and want t—”
“He said he thought I was attractive.”
Suguru stopped talking, probably out of surprise more than politeness, although Satoru knew he was better with the latter.
“Why did he say he thought I was attractive after he rejected me? I can’t stop thinking about that.”
“He said that after?” Shoko asked.
Satoru hesitated. “…Yeah?”
There was a beat of silence, as the two just stared at him.
“What do you like about him anyways?”
“He’s got big tits.” He’s nice to me. Being around him makes me happy.
Suguru sighed. “So you’ll get over it. You’ll be fine, Satoru.”
“Yeah. I’m sure I will.”
…
After missions, Yuuji usually liked to go home and shower. It was an act of purification; as he extinguished sin from this world, he would wash away the ashes. Well, that—And the fact that hot water just felt really good against sore muscles, you know?
If he got injured, he’d usually see Yuuta right away, but sometimes Yuuji would come home to shower anyway. Today was one of those days. He had just sprained his wrist, gotten a couple of cuts, but it was enough that Yuuji felt he should get it checked out. Yuuji liked Yuuta because he never questioned it. He wouldn’t ask about the mission. He’d ask about his life, his students, he’d ask about Satoru. Satoru. Poor, poor Satoru. After what happened, Yuuji couldn’t keep him off his mind. He’d tried, of course, but it was impossible. That beautiful smile was burned onto his brain like film.
A part of Yuuji dreaded how far he might have let Satoru go that night. He knew he was just keeping himself busy so he didn’t have to think about it, but that only went so far. The shower had felt nice, and the popping feeling as Yuuta regenerated his skin felt reinvigorating, but Yuuji knew that it was all a distraction. He hoped he’d forget about all this soon, anyways.
In his office, Yuuji stared down at his desk. There sat a rare, horrible thing: One of Sukuna’s fingers. Over the years, he had been sent on missions to retrieve them, and this was the seventeenth. His execution was approaching.
Yuuji picked it up carefully, using his index and middle fingers, and he held it above his open mouth, ready to drop it down. He remembered when doing this didn’t bother him. He remembered when Sukuna’s soul would talk to him, and he felt the way the thing reverberated against the pads of his fingers, calling him. Entrancing him.
Yuuji dropped it, as soon as it hit his tongue, he swallowed, the soapy, moldy flavor only lasting a brief second.
Then came the after. The gripping pain in his chest. The vivid memories of screams and suffering. The reminder that it was his fault, because he continued to exist. Bright lines outlining tattoos flashed on his skin as Yuuji steadied himself, his years of meditation training coming into use. In a second, the pain had vanished, and Yuuji’s stomach had never felt emptier.
There was a sound by the door he thought he had locked, and Yuuji turned his head in a rush.
Satoru stood in the doorway, light pouring inside the room. “Ita-sen…” he said, then he flicked on the light. “You’re back?”
Yuuji coughed up a weak laugh. “I’m back.”
His mission had taken a week. He missed his students. He had missed Satoru, in particular, even after everything that had happened. Hopefully now, things would go back to normal. Hopefully, Satoru had given up on him, and he’d find someone better suited for his needs. He hoped that Satoru wouldn’t take it too harshly when it was time, but he knew he would.
“What’re you doing in the dark?”
Yuuji looked out the window. It had been light when he got to his office. Had he really been sitting there that long? “I’m fine, just tired. What can I do for you Satoru-kun?”
Satoru took a couple steps in, and he closed the door behind him. “I have my report,” he said, holding it out. “Suguru and I went on a mission while you were gone.”
“How was it?”
“Easy.” Barely spotting them under the dark lenses, there were bags under Satoru’s eyes.
“Did you have fun?”
“Not really,” Satoru said, and he didn’t make eye-contact. There was silence as Yuuji glanced over Satoru’s report. “How was your mission?”
“Exhausting,” Yuuji admitted, setting the report down on a stack of paperwork. “I swear these elders want to put me in the ground sooner than later. Might not be a bad thing, I could use a break.”
There was a moment of silence as Satoru stared at him, and Yuuji grew a bit awkward, so he started speaking to fill the gap. He hoped Satoru had taken that night well, but he already knew he hadn’t. How could he? When Yuuji refused to give him what he wanted. He was getting far too comfortable letting other people down.
“We could get ramen sometime, Satoru-kun.” We can pretend like things are normal, Satoru-kun. “There’s a place nearby that’s pretty good.”
“Sure,” Satoru said, his voice a bit empty. It wasn’t going to be the same. It couldn’t. Not now. He didn’t look up to see Satoru’s expression, but his voice sounded harsher than normal. “You say it like it's a joke. Aren’t you up for execution?”
Did…Had Satoru seen him eat the finger? Well, it didn’t matter, it wasn’t like it was confidential information. Yuuji cleared his throat. “I am.”
Yuuji looked down for a moment, but he could already see the irritation on Satoru's face. “Yuuta-sensei told me he defended you. Can’t you get out of it somehow?”
Yuuji tried to laugh, but it came out as more of a sigh. “Satoru-kun, it’s not that easy. And it was very generous of Yuuta-senpai to get my execution delayed up until this point.”
From where Yuuji sat, it looked like Satoru’s body was trembling. “You’re talking like you want to die.”
“Satoru-kun,” Yuuji said, and when he cleared his throat this time, bits of phlegm stayed stuck. “You know what happened in Shibuya, right?”
Satoru didn’t respond. He would have been a child while it happened, but there was no way he wasn’t aware of the incident. Yuuji remembered it. He remembered every detail of it. He remembered Nobara clinging to him after he woke back up, half her face severed off, begging him to live. He remembered the sound of the explosion and how quiet it felt after Sukuna gave him his body back. It had taken him years to accept that it was worth it to live again. But even now, he would never forgive himself for the hundreds of people whose lives he ended in a second.
He’d miss Satoru. Yuuji knew that he’d miss him, somehow, even if at this point, he had convinced himself he was past the point of fearing death. He was expecting Satoru to tell him that it wasn’t his fault, he was expecting to hear the same old shit that he was used to hearing, but—
Satoru stomped his foot on the ground, and the blues from his eyes pierced Yuuji’s chest against the moonlight.
“You’re so fucking weak.”
He hadn’t heard this.
Yuuji stood up from his desk, his palms splayed wide on the wood. His heart was racing. Was he angry? Yuuji didn’t get angry, not at his students, never at his students.
Satoru was almost shouting. “Aren’t you willing to do whatever it takes? Aren’t you going to struggle for it? Just killing yourself is such a pathetic, selfish way to end it, don’t you think?”
Unable to control himself, Yuuji stormed over to him. He had no idea. Satoru had no idea what Yuuji had gone through.
“Do you hear yourself?” he shouted, and his throat felt tight. “I’m not just going to kill myself.”
“Why not? If you’re such a danger to everyone then why are you fucking around teaching children? Why don’t you just go through with it already and get it over with?”
It hurt. His words stung and Yuuji knew it. He knew it because he had thought those same, immature sentiments over and over and over again, like echos, repeating endlessly until the lies became reality and he was sinking into the abyss. He had really considered it, at one point. He remembered the pleas from his friends not to, but it never really sank in. Maybe after Sukuna’s voice faded away into unintelligible murmurs, maybe he still heard it, maybe his subconscious still listened to what the monster had to say. Even with the taste of corpses on his tongue, Yuuji wished he could be selfish for once.
His heart rate went spiraling, his breath became heavy, and he felt sweat begin to form on the undersides of his arm. Before he knew it, he gripped Satoru’s bicep, pulling him close. Was he going to hurt him? Was he going to have to add Satoru to the list of people he couldn’t bear to see again? He hadn’t been this angry in a long time. He could hurt him. A part of him wanted to. A part of him thought it would feel good. It had been so long since Yuuji had defended himself.
“Because there’s still things I want,” Yuuji said, staring right at Satoru, unable to take his eyes off of him. Unable to hate him, unable to stop himself from gazing endlessly into those beautiful pearls. “There’s still things I have to do. There’s things I care about.”
Satoru frowned and crossed his arms. He really was a child.
“And what’s that, sensei?”
“I care about saving people,” Yuuji said, mirroring Satoru’s posture.
“And?” Satoru asked, drawing out the vowel.
“I care about the school, I care about my friends.” He thought of all the things he loved, and in that moment, Yuuji’s heart began to flutter.
“And?” Satoru asked again, and Yuuji was beyond irritated. “Don’t you enjoy watching movies or something? Or do you really have no hobbies, Ita-sen?”
Yuuji blinked. “I mean I do.” But they’re not important. My wants aren’t important. He couldn’t say it. Yuuji couldn’t say the words.
“Isn’t wanting something reason enough?” Satoru had his arms crossed tighter now, and he was biting his lip. But he was looking Yuuji right in the eyes, and Yuuji knew he meant what he said. “Aren’t you allowed to live because living feels good?”
No matter how smart Satoru would prove himself to be, he was stupid, absolutely stupid. “And what if I want something selfish?”
Satoru smiled, and in that moment, Yuuji knew that he wanted him. “Then you should take it.”
Yuuji’s hand clutched the front of Satoru’s uniform and he dragged him in close. Reaching up, Yuuji pressed his lips against Satoru’s, and although there was a moment of surprise, Satoru easily reciprocated. There was a little bit of a struggle as Yuuji sucked his face, feeling the weight of their bodies weave forwards and back out of balance. Satoru’s hands ended up on his hips, and Yuuji’s body was forced back mid-kiss until his ass slammed against his desk. Papers went flying, and Yuuji didn’t give a damn.
Satoru sucked back against him, slipping his tongue loosely in his mouth, Yuuji letting it inside, pushing back against it eagerly. He closed his eyes, letting the rush of being close to another person flood his brain. Pulling back and gasping for air, Satoru’s face felt so close to his, the tips of white strands brushing up against his forehead like feathers.
“My apartment. We should go to my apartment,” Yuuji said, his world feeling tight, Satoru’s body pressed up against him, his weight pushing him against the desk.
Satoru gazed at him, his heavy breaths moving against Yuuji’s chest. “Holy shit, Ita-sen, I thought you, I thought that—”
“You’ve always been my favorite, Satoru-kun,” Yuuji said, feeling Satoru’s erection press against his thigh. Fuck, he was hard. Yuuji was hard, too. His cock was squeezed against his student’s abdomen.
“You have no idea what I could do to you, sensei,” Satoru huffed, his voice purring nice and deep, and Yuuji felt his dick twitch in his pants.
Yuuji laughed. “I think I have a pretty good idea.”
Satoru stared at him dumbly, and he must have liked what he saw, because Yuuji felt him stiffen against him. “Okay, get your keys, we’re going right now.”
“So bossy,” Yuuji teased, and Satoru looked appalled. Unable to stop himself, Yuuji placed a chaste kiss against Satoru’s lips, and right before he felt the tingles of reciprocation, Yuuji pulled away. “Come on, let’s go.”
…
The door to Yuuji’s apartment slammed open, and Yuuji was shoved in. Satoru’s hands were all over him, his chest, his thighs, his hips—It burned. The feeling of another person against his skin burned. Yuuji gripped back against Satoru’s blazer, the fabric feeling the same against his skin as when he was a student. Somehow, Satoru’s back ended up pressed against the wall, and Yuuji gasped as Satoru pulled his tongue out of his mouth.
“God, Ita-sen. I never knew you were so desperate,” Satoru said, tilting his head down, grinning at him.
“You’re the one who asked if I wanted company,” Yuuji mocked, wanting to tease him a bit. “I’m just taking you up on your offer.”
Satoru just hummed back, grinding his hips into Yuuji’s, moaning obscenely. If it were any other day, Yuuji would have taken offense to it, but today, the desire pooled up directly in his dick. “Satoru-kun, have you had sex before?”
Satoru rubbed his hands down Yuuji’s hips. “I got sucked off in a bathroom stall once. Does that count?”
Yuuji frowned. “At school?”
Satoru pouted, and his hands went stiff against Yuuji’s sides. “Wasn’t during your class.”
For a second, Yuuji was about to respond with a I better hope it wasn’t, but passion overwhelmed him, and he dropped to his knees. Satoru stumbled back against the wall, and Yuuji pressed his face against the tent in his pants. “I bet I can do better.”
Yuuji could feel the twitch in Satoru’s pants. He wanted him. Of course he wanted him. It was stupid, he was being so stupid, but Yuuji didn’t care, he was beyond caring. If he was going to die anyways, what was wrong with sucking a little bit of cock?
As Yuuji deftly unzipped Satoru’s pants, he quickly glanced up to see the boy with his hands awkwardly in the air, gawking down at him. Chuckling at his innocence, Yuuji flicked the front of Satoru’s boxers down, and closed his eyes, opened his mouth.
“Fucking hell, sensei,” Satoru gasped, and Yuuji could hear that his voice was slipping through the cracks of his fingers. Flicking an eyelid open and swiping his tongue against the head of his cock, Yuuji saw Satoru stumble back against the wall, probably letting the sensation overwhelm him. Yuuji let the thing settle in his mouth, and when he glanced down, he finally realized what he was working with. Staring right into a soft white bush of pubes, he realized that he barely had the tip in his mouth. Needless to say, Satoru was big, because of course he was.
Satoru seemed to notice that Yuuji was staring, because his awkwardness started to transform into something else. “Oh? Too much to handle? Last guy could barely get halfway, you know. Thought you said you could do better, Ita-se—”
Yuuji understood relatively quickly that the easiest way to shut him up would be to deepthroat him. It’d be fine. It was a little large, but Yuuji had enough experience to be confident in his abilities to obediently guzzle down any girth presented to him. Helped keep his head clear.
“—Oh, fuck, fuck, shit,” Satoru pleaded out, his hand smacking the back of Yuuji’s head. Funny, he could feel Satoru’s cock pressing against the flesh in his esophagus with each smack. It was a nice full feeling, he almost didn’t want to pull out.
High on his ego trip, Yuuji pulled out to the tip, letting his throat collapse on itself, closing in the open space. Taking a deep breath, Yuuji pushed Satoru back down again, his nose pressed just barely into white fluff. He felt shaky hands rest their way on the side of his head, holding him still, and Yuuji almost thought he was going to choke as Satoru pushed him in just a bit more. Not willing to be just a passive partner, Yuuji swirled his tongue around the sides of his shaft, getting it nice and wet, drool starting to seep out from the corners of his lips.
“Hey, hey, shit,” Satoru said again, now guiding Yuuji’s head off his cock. There was a salacious pop as the tip slipped past Yuuji’s lips, a trail of saliva connecting the two, and for a moment, Yuuji wondered how much of it was pre. He looked up, and Satoru’s eyes had almost rolled to the back of his head. “God, I thought I was gonna cum for a second.”
“Do you want to…” Yuuji said, looking around the room, realizing that they were still in the entrance hallway to his apartment, “move to the bed?” Satoru’s eyes lit up, and Yuuji took him by the hand.
Yuuji led him over to his bedroom, and he saw visions of when Satoru was here last. He cringed, hoping that it wasn’t too dirty, but honestly, he knew he didn’t really care about that in the end. If he was going to worry, he should worry about the fact that he brought an underage boy into his apartment to fuck his ass.
Almost rehearsed, Yuuji started to strip. It took him a second before he realized that Satoru was gawking at him, and when he made eye contact, Satoru quickly started undressing himself, too. For a moment, they stared at each other, completely nude, taking the naturalness of the human body in. Satoru was beautiful, Yuuji was right. He looked so normal like this, his black glasses chucked haphazardly onto the pile of his student uniform. Now, there was no separation between the two. There was no distinction between them, and Yuuji was giddy at the thought.
Yuuji climbed up on the bed, and heard it when Satoru fell next to him. Before he knew it, Satoru’s body was pressed against his back, his chest searing hot against his spine. With his long body, his head was hovering above Yuuji’s, his cock rubbing up against the underside of his balls.
“Ita-sen, I can fuck you, right?” Satoru huffed deeply, his words pleading and full of air. “You’ll let me fuck you, right?”
Yuuji felt his face flush. It really had been a while since he had sex, no matter how familiar the actions might have been. Shyly, he rubbed back against Satoru, hoping that he’d rub his cock against his ass instead. “Yeah, you can top. We need the uh, we need the lube first, Satoru.”
Satoru went still against Yuuji’s back, and then he pulled off, hesitantly. “Alright…”
Yuuji just laughed, endeared by his pouting, and he clambered over to the nightstand to fish out the bottle of lube. “You can call me Yuuji, you know? Since we’re this far and all…” Without looking back, he flicked open the cap.
When he glanced up, Satoru had crawled over to his side. He gazed down innocently with those bright blue eyes, and put his hand out expectantly. Realizing what he wanted, Yuuji gave a squirt of the bottle, letting the thick liquid drizzle onto Satoru’s fingertips. He rubbed his thumb into it, spreading it around, and Yuuji heard him mumble, “Yuuji…”
Yuuji scooted to the headrest, and lied down on his back, pulling his legs in the air. Knowing this was probably Satoru’s first time prepping an ass, Yuuji was almost excited to guide him. Satoru would do his best. “You can go whenever you want.”
Satoru kneeled close, and there was a bit of a cold feeling as one of his fingers touched his rim, wet and slippery. He pushed delicately inwards, and Yuuji winced, the feeling not uncomfortable, just taking a bit to get used to. Satoru prodded in deeper, his eyes trained down at Yuuji’s ass like he was determined to get this right, obsessed with doing a good job, and he would, of course he would, Yuuji would guide him.
“If you press down, you can feel my prostate,” Yuuji added, chewing out the side of his lip.
Satoru looked up to make eye contact, mumbled something, looked down again, and then Yuuji felt the press. His whole body seized up at the sensation, pleasure erupting through his body like fireworks. Clearly noticing how effective this was, Satoru began to press another finger inside, stretching him apart.
“Can I…” Satoru huffed, crawling over to him, shifting his weight on the bed. “I can put it in now, right?” He got so close to Yuuji, he began to feel the side of Satoru’s arm on his ribcage, his knees seated between his thighs. “I’ll make you feel so good, Yuuji. It’ll feel so good inside you, I promise.”
Satoru took out his fingers, and his hand was at the base of his cock. He was rubbing it against the rim of Yuuji’s ass, the head soft and squishy, held up by a raging, thick shaft. Unable to stop himself, Yuuji felt his hips jut out closer, grinding it against his barely slicked up hole. Feels good, Yuuji thought, already starting to picture how good the stretch would be once he was inside. Honestly, he could have used a little more prep—If they did it like this, it would hurt, but Yuuji liked that idea, too. He liked that Satoru wanted him, and he couldn’t help but spoil him a bit. When Yuuji realized that Satoru had been waiting for him, he almost whined out in complaint. “Put it in already.”
Yuuji’s eyes started to roll to the back of his head when he felt the tip slip inside. “I told you I’d be good at this,” Satoru said, pushing in. “I’m good at everything.”
If it wasn’t for the searing pain of trying to accommodate for Satoru’s massive cock, Yuuji might have smacked him.
Satoru groaned when he bottomed out, gripping onto Yuuji’s meaty thighs, making small indentations that Yuuji could feel inside his flesh. Without giving him time to recover, he started to thrust, keeping it in deep, his balls smacking against his tailbone with each plap of the hips. Yuuji’s head spun with the feeling, unable to summon any form of resistance, letting Satoru piledrive him. He blinked, both eyelids at different rates, and out of the blur came Satoru’s face—Gorgeous white strands of hair draped above him, his eyes squeezed closed, clearly feeling into it.
“Faster, Satoru, you can go harder,” Yuuji groaned out, the sensation not enough. He needed more, he needed to forget, Satoru told him that he could make him forget.
Without a verbal response, Satoru started pounding, and Yuuji practically yelped at the sudden pace. There was a tightness each time Satoru’s cock left his body, a squeeze every time it forced itself back in. There were droplets of sweat trickling down Satoru’s collarbone, landing on Yuuji’s neck, and they felt so close, his body felt so warm. It was his favorite student, his favorite person, and Yuuji had never been so close to someone in his life.
Wrapping his hands behind Satoru’s nape, he guided his head toward him, and the two began to make out. It was sloppy, it was a mess, and there were thick globs of spit pushing out between their lips, but it felt good, and Yuuji could care less. All the weight from Satoru’s body was being pushed into him with each thrust, and Yuuji felt his insides turn to mush as the friction began to take over. Each time the head of his cock dragged against his prostate, Yuuji felt his own cock ache, his body tremble. At a certain point, he couldn’t tell when he had been dragged over the edge, but his body was pulsating, his cock was dripping hot white.
Satoru didn’t tell him when he was going to cum inside, but Yuuji could feel it. He could feel it with the way he groaned into his lips, their tongues swirling around each other. He could feel it when his dick twitched inside him and his thrusts came to a slamming halt, staying nice and deep, gushing into his insides wet and thick. Yuuji moaned helplessly as Satoru gripped his shoulders, sucking on his lips desperately, everything already over, but unwilling to let go.
He didn’t care anymore. He could have told him to stop, but he didn’t care. He relished in the feeling of being loved, being cherished, and Yuuji wanted to bask in it until the end of time.
Finally, Satoru popped his lips off of him, and Yuuji slowly opened his eyes.
He was breathless at the sight. How beautiful he looked right now. How delicate his face was, and Yuuji wondered what he’d look like in ten, fifteen years. He wondered if he’d still be at his side, he wondered if he’d still love him, if he’d still feel love, and Yuuji wrapped his arms around his back and held him close.
“Wow,” Satoru gasped, his face pressed against the crook of Yuuji’s shoulder. “That felt awesome.”
“You did great,” Yuuji said, and his voice was quieter than he would have liked.
“I did?” Satoru asked, his breath hot against Yuuji’s skin.
There was a pause before: “You really are my favorite, Satoru.”
Satoru’s heart trembled against his chest, he embraced him back, and for a moment, Yuuji thought he felt tears dribble down his skin. “I fucking knew it. Suguru’s gonna be so mad when I tell him I was right.”