Archive of Our Own

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

He reads the floating words on top of the bed, teeth grinding as the meaning sinks in.

Out of all the things he has to deal with, it’s one of those made-up rooms, a trope that’s popular in so many media that declares a person cannot get out without having…sex. Megumi swallows the lump in his throat and contemplates which god exactly did he offend to get stuck in this situation. It’s bizarre too—the way he ended up in this secluded room. He remembers going off in a solo mission, exorcising two grade 2 curses without a hitch, then leaving through the building’s entrance only to end up in this magical space with no exit in sight.

Megumi curses.

He looks back behind him and glares at the now shut door. He twists the doorknob, trying to pull the door open only to growl under his breath. Of course, it’s locked. He scowls.

Giving up, he paces around the room, looking for any openings he can slip through. He’s still the only one there so right now, he’s at an impasse. Without a partner, he won’t be able to get out. Still, that doesn’t mean he won’t find any loopholes or opportunities to escape before the mantle strikes.

He tries to ignore the soft carpeting under his feet, the king-sized bed with silken sheets, and the sultry, flowing canopy in the middle of the room. There’s a bedside table with a lamp right next to the bed with several drawers sitting right underneath. With the room’s theme in mind, Megumi already knows what he’ll find there so he skips it, going to the two windows that are, strangely, placed in the room.

It doesn’t make any sense to place them there, especially when he’s not supposed to get out without doing that cursed act. So, with strong, even steps, he goes to the two windows right next to the bed and opens them. They slide easily with no resistance but the view behind it is enough to make his knees weak, his chest tighten, and his breath hitch. Beyond the windows, right outside of this very room, is an inescapable black void waiting to eat him whole. There’s no hint of light—hell, not even a single sign of life—outside. It’s all darkness and depth that can easily pull him under.

Megumi closes the window shut.

“Shit,” he hisses, the absurdity and the gravity of the situation getting to him. Shakily, he steps back from the glass windows and clenches his fists. There goes the idea of jumping out.

He continues staring at the windows, brows pulled tight as he bites his lips. As much as he’d like to say everything’s fine, it’s not. There’s no sign of food or water in this room. Neither is there a bathroom to relieve himself if the time comes. Panic starts to fill his lungs, but he quickly exhales it, focusing on keeping his breathing relaxed and easy.

If there are no visible exits, he’ll just create one for himself.

With that in mind, he lifts his hands. He’s about to call out his shikigami , ready to attack the expensive looking walls when he hears a ringtone blast through the air, cutting through his thoughts. Megumi gasps, hands dropping to the side as he looks for the source. Belatedly, he realizes that it’s his ringtone that’s going off so he hurriedly takes out his phone from the pocket of his pants, relief flooding through him at the sight of a familiar name.

Gojo Satoru.

He picks it up.

“Megumi!”

Megumi winces at the volume but a small smile curls on his lips nonetheless.

“Sensei,” he breathes, shoulders easing as he walks to the middle of the room, eyes scanning his surroundings once again. The panic slowly ebbs as his teacher’s voice echoes in his ears. He’ll never admit it out loud, but this man never fails to bring comfort and security in Megumi’s mind. He rubs his temples and releases a soft sigh.

“Hmm, you’re in trouble, aren’t you?”

Megumi’s brows furrow at the words. “I’m not,” he snarks back, a force of habit more than anything else. As soon as the words leave his mouth though, his face falls and he groans, remembering where he is.

“Actually, I am,” he admits sullenly. He hears a bark of laughter from the other side and unwittingly, his cheeks turn a light shade of red. “It’s not funny, sensei!”

“Sorry, sorry,” the man chuckles, a smile clearly on his lips while Megumi’s left stressing over his predicament.

Megumi lets out a frustrated groan and walks to the bedside table, opening the drawers because what else is he supposed to do? He might as well get his hands busy lest he tries to punch a hole in the wall. Which, now that he thinks about it, isn’t a bad idea at all. What if it leads outside? A foolproof way to freedom? Megumi pauses and keeps silent, oblivious to his teacher’s chattering on the other end.

“Megumi? Hello, you there?”

Megumi shakes his head, clearing his thoughts. “Uh, yeah, I am.” He glances at the drawers underneath and tugs on the first one. Empty.

“So,” Gojo drawls, prolonging the vowel and grating on Megumi’s nerves. “Ichiji called me saying you were taking a while getting out of the building.”

Megumi stills. “Define ‘a while.’” Last he checked, it’s only been a few minutes since he exited through the building’s doors and arrived in this cursed room.

Gojo hums. “Around three hours.”

The meaning of those words settles in his mind, heavy and alarming. “Fuck.” He needs to get out of here ASAP.

“Yep,” the man replies, clicking his tongue right after. “I expected more from you, Megumi.”

Disappointment and shame crawl up his throat at his teacher’s words. It hurts more than he wants it to—a prickling sensation that turns into quick, short jabs at his sides. He grits his teeth, hand moving to the second drawer and dragging it open.

“Look, I exorcised the curses alright? And I don’t have any injuries. I’m not even dying.”

“Those are low standards you have there, Megumi-chan.”

His cheeks burn at the term of endearment. “Oh, fuck off.”

Gojo chuckles again and the sound makes Megumi’s stomach churn for all the wrong reasons. He sighs, going back to the drawer and looking at its contents. He freezes, catching sight of vibrant toys in different shapes and sizes. He even gets a glimpse of a large, bulbous head with a thick shaft, a number of veins imprinted on its surface. It’s made from a deep purple material, silicone most probably, that has Megumi biting his lip very hard. A flash of white and blue crosses his mind and he immediately shoves the drawer shut. He exhales sharply, shaking his head. He has to get out of here.

“That’s not how you respond to your savior.” His teacher’s voice filters through his ears which doesn’t stop the raging blush on his face. He rubs his cheeks with the back of hand, feeling the warmth spreading through his thin skin.

“What do you mean?” He huffs, moving on to the third drawer. He really should stop right now. He already knows what’s going to be inside. The room practically broadcasted it the moment he read those words in the air. Megumi takes a deep breath, squares himself, and pulls the drawer open.

“I’m coming to get you!”

“Fuck!” Megumi curses, eyes growing wide at the bottles of lube and the several packets of condoms. Several . As if the room’s telling him once isn’t enough. God, he might as well unleash all his shikigami and force his way out.

“Alright, not the reaction I was expecting but—”

Megumi flails, kicking the drawer shut with his foot and turning around abruptly.

“No, no, sorry,” Megumi quickly apologizes, a hand tugging on his dark locks as he paces around the room again. He shakes off the image of the condoms and the appendage that goes into them, focusing on his teacher’s words. “Uhm, thank you, sensei.”

“Hmm.”

Megumi’s face twitches. He doesn’t like the sound of that.

“Well,” Gojo starts again and this time, Megumi’s making it a point to clear his head of all distractions and listen. It’s quiet on the other end, eerily so, save for his teacher’s voice. “I’m already in the building you were sent in. You’re right about one thing though, you exorcised two of the curses in this place.”

“Yeah, there were only two in the first place.”

Gojo laughs and the sound jars Megumi from his spot. “You’re wrong, Megumi.” He pauses, which only puts Megumi on edge. “There are three.”

Megumi hears a resounding click in the room and when he whips his head to the source of the sound, he watches with a gaping mouth as the only door in the room swings open.

Nothing but static goes through Megumi’s head at the sight of his teacher, in the flesh, standing right outside the door. His phone is still glued next to his ear, eyes covered with that damned blindfold of his as he whistles low but loud. He ends the call and shoots Megumi with what can only be called a teasing grin.

“Found you.”

Megumi snaps out of it, watching with anxious eyes as his teacher steps into the room. He wants to tell his teacher about the door and about the strange room, but he can’t, not with their only exit seconds away from disappearing. It almost looks like slow motion, the way Megumi runs towards the door, hoping to keep it open only to see it shut with a soft click, effectively locking both of them inside. He curses.

“You let the door close.”

Megumi stands in front of it, hand shaking the knob as if it’ll magically open by sheer will alone. When it doesn’t budge, Megumi lets out a groan.

Gojo arches a brow, the corners of his lips rising in what can only be amusement at his student’s antics.

“Is that a problem?”

Megumi spins on his heels and musters the iciest glare possible and scowls at him.

“Yes, it’s a problem,” he seethes, brows furrowed as he clenches his fists again, trying not to think too much because fuck , of all the people he’s stuck with, it has to be his own teacher. Sure, he might have let his mind wander here and there a while ago but never in his wildest dreams did he think he’ll actually have the chance to live out those thoughts. His cheeks start flaring up again and he hastily fixes his gaze on the door, mouth in a permanent frown.

He hears Gojo hum behind him, taking a few steps closer until he’s right behind Megumi’s back. Unconsciously, Megumi holds his breath, acutely aware of the man towering over him. Gojo leans down to inspect the knob, head coincidentally, or maybe even purposefully, level with Megumi’s neck. Megumi feels the man’s breath leaving a trail of goosebumps on the back of his neck, undoubtedly causing him to tense up.

Usually, he won’t act like this—this being something akin to a prey paralyzed underneath a predator’s gaze, doing everything they can so they’ll make it through without losing a single limb. He’s aware Gojo’s looking him at him funnily, doesn’t even need to take off the blindfold to see those crystalline eyes gleaming with mirth as Megumi fidgets in place.

“Oh? Are you nervous, Megumi?”

Megumi takes a deep breath, relaxing his tense state before turning his head around to meet Gojo’s eyes. He still hasn’t moved back, content to remain in place as he gazes deep into Megumi’s eyes. Megumi’s brow twitch.

“We’re stuck,” he deadpans, hoping the flittering energy in him doesn’t show.

Gojo laughs, reaches for the door, and twists the knob. He does it once, twice, before stilling and frowning. He drops his hand. “You’re right.”

Megumi scoffs. “I told you.”

His teacher pulls away and Megumi takes it as his cue to breathe in deeply, calming his nerves. He places a hand over his chest and eyes his teacher. He stands in the middle of the room, head raised as he stares at something on top of the bed—no doubt the same message Megumi read minutes before. Shit , Megumi thinks, palms sweating as he observes his teacher’s reaction.

Slowly, he creeps towards his teacher, careful to maintain a fixed distance while he clenches his jaw. The bed looks so much bigger, more menacing even, now that there’s someone else in the room. His shifts his weight and takes a deep, shuddering breath.

“So,” Megumi starts, keeping his voice even and void of any emotions. “What now?”

He will not think of his teacher’s dick. Absolutely, resolutely, will not .

When Megumi peeks at Gojo’s face, he only sees an unreadable expression, face smooth from any telling signs of frustration or panic. In fact, Megumi might have thought that his teacher can handle it, that they’ll be able to get out of here without having to do that. Except, he notices the abrupt spike of cursed energy from the man and that’s when he knows they are thoroughly fucked . Megumi takes a deep breath.

“Megumi,” Gojo calls out, cocking his head to the side as he gazes at Megumi. His hands are tucked in the pockets of his pants, posture deceivingly at ease, as he motions for the boy to come closer. Megumi hesitates for a second before deciding to trust the man like all those times before. When he’s but a step away, Gojo immediately grabs his wrist, earning a surprised yelp to come out of his mouth.

Megumi watches with wide eyes as Gojo caresses the skin right over his pulse point, smile curving in an almost carnal way. He represses the shiver in his body and waits, hoping that whatever this is, it’s something that will not lead to two naked bodies on the bed, sweaty and flushed and—no, let’s not go there.

“Megumi,” he says again. This time, he laces their fingers together, lifting both their hands and shaking them gently. He smirks. “Should we get a little dirty?”

--

The moment Gojo said those words, a hundred thoughts ran through Megumi’s mind. And with that stifling, burdening room prompt, it didn’t take much for him to overthink and panic, cheeks blushing a furious red while his teacher laughed at his reaction. Because while yes, dirty was one way to put things into perspective, it was certainly not what Megumi’s doing right now: using his cursed technique to break the room’s door.

He's been at it for over an hour, using his arsenal of shadows to tackle the invincible wooden door. A bead of sweat drips down the side of his face and he hastily wipes it away with the back of his hand, clicking his tongue as exhaustion starts to kick in.

He’s going all out for this, calling his divine dogs, Nue, even the elephant . Gojo stood near the windows for that one, arms crossed with a proud smile on his face as he watched Megumi attempt to kick down the door. Now though, he’s used up everything within his power and not a single scratch is found on the wooden door. He doesn’t want to use his trump card for this because as much as the idea of having sex bothers him, it’s not something he’ll trade his life for.

“Keep at it, Megumi! You’ll never know if your other shikigami can break the room.”

Megumi’s eyebrows twitch as he snaps his head around, glaring at his teacher who, for one reason or another, decided to lie down on the bed, shoes off but the blindfold still on. He sends Megumi a thumbs up paired with a tiny smirk that only serves to grate on Megumi’s nerves. Megumi grits his teeth and sends Nue his way, unable to keep his frustration at bay. Gojo easily dodges it though, laughing loudly at Megumi’s feeble attempt at electrocuting him.

“I’m afraid you’re too early to land a critical hit on me, Megumi.”

“Oh, shut up,” Megumi growls, calling back the bird and stroking its feathers gently before letting it merge back with his shadows. He frowns. “Why don’t you do it instead, sensei? ”

He’s at his limit—well, almost—but the idea of using his domain, incomplete as it is, just doesn’t feel right with him. He trudges to the bed and falls back with an oof , ignoring the pair of eyes digging into his face.

“Are you sure about that?”

“I don’t care,” Megumi replies, closing his eyes as he slows down his breathing. “If I end up as collateral damage because you can’t control your cursed technique then so be it.”

“You don’t think I can handle it?”

Megumi mutters something under his breath, too tired to form a proper rebuttal. “I’m just saying.”

He doesn’t hear another word from his teacher, but he does feel the bed move around, the mattress dipping as another weight presses closer. Megumi doesn’t even bother reacting at the man’s movement, content to lay unmoving like a dead fish when he feels a burst of pain on his forehead, shocking him awake.

“What the fuck?” He hisses, holding his forehead as he sits up. His eyes meet Gojo’s, mouth snickering behind a large hand. Megumi doesn’t have to take the blindfold off to see glittering eyes shining in amusement.

“That’s what you get for insulting me.” Gojo pauses, cocking his head to the side as the smile on his face drops. “And for thinking I’ll let anything bad happen to you.”

Megumi rubs the sore spot on his forehead, brows furrowing even more at his teacher’s expression. His lips are set into a thin line, almost pulled into a frown, as he pins Megumi’s down with what he thinks is an unreadable stare. Goosebumps erupt on Megumi’s skin at the intensity of it before swiftly turning away, hiding the beginnings of a pink flush on his cheeks. He takes a deep breath and shrugs, willing away the blood rushing underneath his skin.

“That’s not what I meant,” Megumi mutters, hiding his cheeks behind the collar of his uniform. He’s just tired of trying, of proving himself to Gojo that he can escape without help. He knows he’s strong, at least strong enough that Gojo believes in him, but there’s a fine line between confidence and stupidity and Megumi’s not crossing that.

Gojo hums, lifting a hand and smoothly tucking a lock of hair behind Megumi’s ears. The action stuns him, enough for his whole body to go rigid all over. There’s nothing on his teacher’s face to betray the emotions underneath. Nonetheless, Megumi finds himself shivering slightly, eyes widening before pulling away. Gojo doesn’t reach for him again, only lowering his hand and heaving a sigh.

“You do know I’ll never let anything bad happen to you right?” Gojo asks with an intensity that leaves Megumi perplexed. He blinks, digs his fingers into the soft sheets and shakes his head.

“It’s a little too late given how you’re raising me to be a sorcerer.”

Gojo barks out a laugh at that. “That’s true.” A thoughtful look crosses his face and he smiles, something that reminds Megumi of broken glass embedded deep in fragile skin—too small to be worth freaking out over but still painful nevertheless.

“But what I meant was I wouldn’t do something bad to you .” And then, as an afterthought. “Unless you want me to, of course.”

A dozen implications go through Megumi’s head at the words and this time, he can’t control the raging blush on his face. Of all the things to say, Gojo just had to say it while being stuck in this room.

He grabs one of the pillows and throws it in his teacher’s direction which only ends up falling on the bed, just an inch away from the man’s face. Right. Infinity . Megumi huffs when he hears muffled laughter from the man, the sound only making his face burn brighter.

“Just do what you want,” Megumi growls, shame curling in his gut. He was just fine minutes ago, too exhausted to care about the possibility of doing that with his teacher. Now that the man slipped in that innuendo though, it’s getting harder to control the raging thoughts in his head. He hears another chuckle for the man before the weight on the bed disappears, leaving Megumi alone with a wrinkled blanket in his hands and a flustered expression on his face.

“Sit tight, Megumi.”

That’s the only warning he gets before Gojo moves to stand in front of the door, a finger raised as he manifests a small bead of energy in the air. Megumi holds his breath, skin prickling as the atmosphere drops several degrees lower. The room starts to get bathed in a red light, the small ball levitating on top of Gojo’s fingers. It reminds him of a black hole sucking everything in. Unconsciously, Megumi grips the sheets tighter, sweat building up on his brow.

It only takes a few seconds, maybe even shorter, for the ball of energy to start sparking, black lines of energy cracking here and there. Gojo mutters something under his breath and Megumi takes it as his cue to close his eyes, summoning his divine dogs to shield the brunt of Gojo’s technique. Everything quiets down, even his own breathing, when out of the blue, a loud explosion echoes in his ears. He covers his ears right away, gritting his teeth at the ringing in his ears. There’s no way they won’t be able to escape—not with that power being unleashed.

He waits for a few more seconds before opening his eyes, expecting to see familiar concrete and glass, maybe a huge hole in the wall too, only to see the same hotel-issued wallpaper, the same carpeting on the floor, and the same wooden door without a single dent. Megumi gapes.

“Seriously?” He blurts out, calling back his dogs as he approaches the door. When Megumi a few steps away, he clearly sees the clenched jaw on Gojo’s face, the furrowed brows, and the displeased frown.

“Sensei?”

Gojo seems to snap out of it, glancing at Megumi by his side. His expression relaxes by a few degrees as he looks over Megumi’s whole body. “Oh, you’re fine. That’s good.”

Megumi raises an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

His teacher only waves a hand and that’s when Megumi feels it, a thin, barely noticeable second layer on top of his skin. He has to squint to see it shimmer underneath the room’s light and that’s when he recognizes it—Gojo’s technique. He can’t help but bite the inside of his cheek in frustration, glaring silently at the man beside him.

“I don’t need your protection,” he grouses, lips morphing into a frown while Gojo only blinks, shaking his head. It’s something he doesn’t want to admit out loud either—the burden of having the strongest keeping him safe and sound. He doesn’t want to keep relying on his teacher to save his sorry ass all the time. If he wants to prove himself, to show that he’s doing better, then there shouldn’t be any need for Gojo to go around placing his infinity on his body. His temple throbs at the thought. It’s bad enough that he messed up his mission and now he probably has to face Gojo’s lack of trust in his own powers. He curses at the thought.

“You could have been hurt,” Gojo points out plainly, walking over to the door and giving it a closer look. Megumi trails after him, hands shoved in his pockets as he grumbles under his breath. Upon closer inspection, it’s obvious that Gojo’s technique didn’t do much damage. There’s just a small burn mark at one of the hinges of the door but besides that, nothing seems out of place.

“Like I said, I’d be fine,” Megumi retorts once he’s checked the door. “You trained me a lot, haven’t you? And my shikigami can protect me just fine you don’t have to—” He takes a deep breath and gestures around wildly. “Use your infinity on me. Go do that on others, those who need your protection—not me.”

Once the words left his mouth, something changed in the air, like a bunch of charged particles entered the room. Megumi stiffens again, the hair on his skin rising as he feels Gojo’s gaze land on his face. He tries hard to keep his face stoic, but it still doesn’t hide the nervous tic on his lips.

“But what if I don’t want to?”

Megumi’s head spins. Can he actually say that? He whips his head to look at this teacher, a little shocked at the confession. Gojo doesn’t have to slide his blindfold off for Megumi to know how those deep blue eyes pin him down, practically tracking his every movement. Megumi gulps, unconsciously taking a step back.

“You say I have to protect those who need it,” Gojo scoffs, shaking his head before frowning. “But what about those I want to protect?”

Megumi thinks there’s something more to those words but he’s too preoccupied by the tension in the air, the penetrating gaze, and the jittery energy thrumming right underneath his skin. He licks his lips and somehow, his gut instinct tells him that Gojo follows the movement easily, how his pink tongue slipped between the seams to wet the dry, cracked skin. Megumi burns at the thought.

“W-whatever.” Megumi hates that he stutters, face growing a few degrees hotter as he turns away sharply. He already knows Gojo’s going to laugh at him for this but instead he hears a long, drawn-out sigh. A hand lands on his head, ruffling the dark locks underneath, and Megumi flinches. He looks up to see his teacher smiling down at him, one that’s half-exasperated but also fond. Unknowingly, his heart skips a beat.

“Let’s go to sleep, Megumi.”

It takes a moment for the words to register in his head but then it all clicks together. It’s amazing how he’s able to forget the room’s guideline for a few short minutes only to have it smacked right across his face without a warning. Megumi opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water, watching his teacher take slow, languid strides to the bed. He’s still flushed, most likely from the neck up, but the way Gojo’s handling all of this, like there’s nothing wrong, makes his blood simmer close to a boil.

“You want to sleep together?” Megumi chokes out, pretty sure that he’s the one next to exploding in this room. He thinks back to the array of toys hidden in the drawers and immediately stomps his way to the bed, blocking off all access with his body. Gojo has already laid down, blindfold thrown to the side without a care. The man crosses his long legs and arches a brow at Megumi’s actions, head tilted to the side with barely concealed curiosity.

“Hm?”

“You said you wanted to s-sleep,” he chokes out, cursing himself again for the stutters. God, why is he so nervous .

Gojo blinks at his words, sitting up slightly as he stares at Megumi’s face. A few seconds pass and that’s when a sly, teasing smirk crosses the man’s features.

“Oh? Megumi wants to do that with sensei?” He wiggles his eyebrows and Megumi groans, grabbing another pillow and throwing it at Gojo’s face. Gojo laughs, loud and bright, catching it with his hands instead of letting it fall due to infinity’s barrier.

“I’m joking! Megumi, calm down.”

He’s not aware that he’s even panting until Gojo mentioned it. Megumi inhales deeply, wanting the mad blush on his face to go away. When he fixes his gaze on his teacher’s face again there’s a small smile on the man’s lips, as if the idea of being locked up here forever isn’t a pressing issue at all. Megumi knows they can always try again later, break down these walls and escape the confines of this so-called box, but the man only pats down the space next to him, urging Megumi to crawl under the covers.

“You can’t blame me,” Megumi mutters, cheeks still warm as he decides to follow Gojo’s whims. He lifts the covers, removes his shoes, and buries himself under the thick comforter. The sheets feel soft and silky over his skin, reminding him of the times Gojo brought him and Tsumiki to five-star hotels only to wade in the ocean the very next day.

Gojo laughs at that, moving closer to Megumi’s spot. It’s almost natural how Gojo fixes the blanket over Megumi’s body, making sure it covers every inch of Megumi’s skin. He pats them down gently before angling his body to face Megumi properly. Now that he’s lying down, just inches away from his teacher’s face, he can count the thick lashes framing those bright blues, a halo surrounding a magnificent sky. Megumi gulps, feeling a bit dazed at the sight, when he feels a hand go through his hair, slow and soothing.

“Let’s just sleep, Megumi,” he murmurs, almost a whisper as if the man wasn’t hell bent on destroying this whole room minutes ago. Megumi blinks, perplexed at the man’s words.

“Shouldn’t we find a way to get out?” The words ‘without having sex’ goes unsaid. Gojo hums, eyelids fluttering as he nods his head.

“Yeah, but aren’t you tired, Megumi?”

He blinks. “Yes but—”

“Then it’s settled!” Gojo snuggles under the covers as well, ignoring Megumi’s surprised yelps. Megumi gapes at his teacher who’s making a home underneath the sheets. He’s about to reprimand the man, mention how every minute spent here is an hour wasted in the real world, when an arm drapes itself over his waist pulling Megumi’s body closer to Gojo’s chest. The words die in Megumi’s throat.

“We can think about it later,” Gojo hums, rubbing smooth, slow circles down Megumi’s back. This time, he can’t suppress the shiver from racking through his body. “Let’s just take a short nap first.”

Megumi chokes, squirming in the man’s hold. “What are you doing?” He hisses, trying to push the man away to no avail. Gojo laughs again, eyes crinkling at the sight of Megumi’s furrowed brows and flushed cheeks. They twinkle as they gaze down on Megumi’s face, a thousand unsaid words floating in a deep, endless ocean.

“I thought Megumi liked hugs when going to sleep?”

It takes a few seconds before Megumi snipes back an answer, cheeks flaring once again. “That was when I was eight!”

Gojo snickers but heeds Megumi’s words, pulling a few inches away that has Megumi reeling. Gojo seldom does this—this meaning listening to Megumi’s complaints, understanding them, and fixing them. Megumi gawks as Gojo shifts on the bed, giving Megumi some space as he places an arm under his head.

“Better?”

Megumi opens his mouth then closes it; the words lost once again.

Gojo doesn’t laugh this time, only sighs softly under his breath, busying his hands once again. He pulls the covers up until it meets Megumi’s chin before nodding to himself. It oddly reminds Megumi of the time Gojo tucked him in bed, years and years ago. He gulps.

“Sweet dreams, Megumi.”

Before Megumi can even utter his reply, he sees the man’s eyes flutter shut. His breathing starts to even out, muscles relaxing and somehow, Megumi doesn’t have the heart to wake him up. His eyes rake over Gojo’s face, sees the lines of exhaustion tracing every curve, every plane. Megumi bites his lip.

“Stupid,” Megumi mumbles, lifting a hand and carefully smoothing out the knitted brows on the man’s face. Gojo exhales softly, easing into the covers some more. Megumi rolls his eyes. “It’s you who’s tired.”

Gojo doesn’t even stir at his touch and Megumi relaxes, content to stare at his teacher’s face before snuggling deeper into the bed. He knows they have to do something soon, but the idea of a nap doesn’t seem so bad now compared to before. He’ll probably regret it later, especially when they get out and they have a ton of people coming up to them to ask what happened. Not to mention the reports they’ll have to do. Megumi groans at the thought. He glances at Gojo one last time, counts the lashes fanning across the man’s cheek, and hums.

“Sweet dreams, sensei,” he mutters, light as a feather. Megumi closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and lets the familiar scent of mint and spice, of sweat and blood, lull him to sleep.

--

The moment Megumi opened his eyes, he knew that something was wrong.

Megumi gasps out loud, eyes struggling to adjust to the sudden darkness. He remembers falling asleep with the lights on, too tired to switch it off or badger Gojo to do it for him. He saw the man was exhausted and, consequently, fell asleep seconds right after he made himself comfortable. Megumi didn’t have the heart to wake him, nor did he have the care to stand up and switch the lights off by the door. Now that they’re off though, an unsettling feeling curls in his guts. Immediately, he sits up, turning his head to nudge his teacher awake.

“Sensei the lights are—”

His breath hitches.

Megumi watches as the man curls into himself in bed, hair damp from the sweat dripping from his forehead. He still has his eyes closed but it doesn’t hide the writhing of his body and the discomfort the man seems to be feeling. Megumi freezes for a second before going on autopilot, crawling closer to where Gojo is and pressing a hand to his forehead.

“Fuck,” Megumi curses, withdrawing his hand immediately and holding it close to his chest. “You’re burning up.”

Gojo stirs at the sound of his voice, eyes opening blearily. The once crystal-clear blues look hazy, clouded in all its depths. They wander around the room for a few moments before landing on Megumi’s face. Gojo blinks and heaves a sigh.

“Megumi,” he pants, trying to focus his attention on the boy in front of him.

Megumi turns on the bedside light beside him and narrows his eyes at the man.

“What happened?”

Gojo purses his lips, shaking his head. He looks back at the door, eyebrows pursed, then groans, long and deep.  He tries to sit up and Megumi quickly moves to support him. Gojo mutters a thanks before sighing in relief, sitting against the headboard of the bed. His eyebrows are still knitted as he stares at the door, clenching and unclenching his fists. He sighs.

“I think,” Gojo starts slowly, licking his lips before clicking his tongue. “The room is messing with us.”

Megumi blanks out. “ What? ”

Gojo doesn’t offer any more of an explanation. Instead, his hands start zipping down his jacket, pulling the fabric away from his heated skin. Megumi hastily turns his head around, giving his teacher some form of privacy. Still, it doesn’t stop Megumi from peeking at the man and the tight shirt that clings to every muscle on his teacher’s body. Megumi holds his breath.

Gojo sweeps his hair back, dropping the jacket at the side of the bed. “It’ll be fine,” Gojo says, a little breathless even to Megumi’s ears. “I already contacted Nanami and others in case things go awry.”

“Oh,” Megumi mumbles but his eyes never stray from his teacher’s body. This time, he forces himself to look. He observes the tensing of those muscles, the shivers racking through his spine, and the slight coloring of his cheeks. Megumi narrows his eyes.

“Sensei, are you really alright?” Megumi shoves all indecent thoughts aside and moves to check the man’s pulse. He’s already reaching to touch the man’s neck, cool fingers about to touch heated skin, when a hand clasps itself around his wrist, stopping him indefinitely. Megumi gasps, surprised at the action.

“Gojo-sensei what are you—”

“Megumi,” Gojo rasps, grip tightening around his wrist. He lolls his head to the side, piercing blue eyes staring him down. His breathing turns more ragged, more desperate even, and Megumi can only watch. “Don’t.”

Megumi blinks before scowling. “You’re really not fine at all.”

Gojo groans. “Megumi, just listen to me—”

Megumi ignores the man and turns his head towards the door. Gojo was looking at it minutes earlier so surely it has answers, right? Megumi narrows his eyes and after a few seconds of staring, something glimmers on top of the door.

He reads the same premise, prompt, rule, whatever it is about the room—that the two of them cannot leave without having sex except this time, there’s something else written below it. Megumi lowers his eyes, reads it, and goes stiff all over.

It’s a room where you cannot leave without sex. Simultaneously, it’s a room where you cannot survive without having sex.

Megumi sharply turns his head to face Gojo who’s now emitting so much warmth, even Megumi can feel it on his skin. He understands now—why his teacher suddenly got hot, his body shivering despite the temperature, his body rigid against soft sheets. Gojo takes a shuddering breath, lips pursed into a blatant frown. He avoids Megumi’s gaze.

“Gojo-sensei,” Megumi presses, a hint of anger and disbelief coating his words. “You might die .”

Gojo rolls his eyes. “Megumi, I said I’ll be fine .”

“Bullshit!”

He shouldn’t be worried so much over this. Like Gojo said, help will probably come in a while, especially since time moves weirdly in this space. Still, it doesn’t stop the anxiety from crawling up his throat.

He doesn’t like this—this being unable to do anything except follow the room’s wishes unless he sees his own mentor, his guardian, his savior, die of hyperthermia or dehydration. He knows he can do better, maybe even use his domain just so they can escape, but after everything they’ve been through, Megumi has an inkling that it’ll all be futile anyways. Megumi purses his lips, a million thoughts running through his head, before they all come to a halting screech.

He takes a deep breath.

There’s little time to consider given the circumstances. Gojo may look fine now but who knows what will happen minutes or hours later. Also, if Gojo called the rest of the sorcerers and are still unable to get them out then something must have happened. They can’t stay a single second in this room any longer.

It takes Gojo by surprise the moment Megumi lurches forward, finding purchase on his shoulders and lifting his body off the bed. He’s about to ask what the boy was doing when he feels something warm land on his lap; the words immediately die in his throat.

“Megumi,” he chokes out, hands unconsciously wrapping themselves around the boy’s waist. “What are you doing?”

Megumi ignores the awkwardness creeping up his back and instead leans forward, eyes watching carefully how Gojo’s pupils dilate at the movement. For once he’s thankful that the room’s dark, a good cover for the blazing heat on his cheeks. Slowly, he drags his hands up to the man’s neck again, eliciting shivers and goosebumps from Gojo’s skin. Megumi sighs.

“Gojo-sensei,” he starts, trying to keep his voice calm and composed, a complete opposite from the erratic beating of his heart. “Let’s have sex.”

Only the sound of heavy breathing can be heard between them and with each passing second, Megumi has half the mind to just throw himself out the window because fuck , what am I doing? Gojo simply stares at him, eyes a striking blue as they burn into each and every inch of his skin. He bites his bottom lip and looks to the side, ignoring the blossoming heat emanating from his chest. Gojo opens his mouth.

“No.”

Megumi’s world stops.

“No?” His voice sounds faraway even to his own ears as he stares at his teacher in confusion. He clearly feels the heat underneath the man’s clothes, borderline scorching if not a pleasant warmth reminiscent of trips to the onsen back when he was still a kid. Megumi shifts in his seat and Gojo holds back a muffled groan, fingers digging deeper into his skin. Megumi holds back a gasp.

“No,” Gojo repeats, shaking his head, his grip on Megumi’s waist tightening. “I don’t want to force you.”

Hilarious , Megumi thinks when the room’s all but pushing the man to die and it’s only up to him to save his teacher’s life. Really, Megumi can just wait it out, pray Nanami and the others will find a way to break them out, but his gut instinct tells him that’s not the case and that the longer Megumi hesitates, the bigger the consequences will be.

Megumi huffs, eyes narrowing as he stares at Gojo’s face. Beads of sweat start to build on the man’s forehead framed by reddened cheeks. Megumi’s face softens at the sight, just a little, as he wipes it away with the hem of his sleeve. Gojo sighs quietly.

“You’re not,” Megumi finally mutters but even he thinks they’re empty words. Gojo flashes him a look but Megumi’s quick to roll his eyes and shut the man up before he can even reprimand him.

“Listen,” Megumi shifts on Gojo’s lap. He doesn’t miss the slight groan escaping his teacher’s lips. “I know this room wants us to fuck and that we have no control over,” Megumi bites his lip and waves his hand around. “Your condition but—”

God, Megumi thinks, feeling hotter and hotter by the minute. He wonders if the room’s penalty is getting to him too. He clicks his tongue.

“If I had to then I wouldn’t mind giving it to you.” Megumi pauses, gathering the courage to say what’s been on his mind for far too long. “I want it to be you.”

Gojo’s breath hitches and with it, Megumi looks away, not wanting the man to see his burning cheeks or his trembling eyes. This still doesn’t change the fact that he doesn’t want this, this being the circumstance where he gets to have sex with the man who’s made a home in his life, whether he likes it or not. In all honesty, Megumi would have preferred it to be years later, when he’s finally got a hold of his own feelings, able to pinpoint where attraction, infatuation, lust, love, begins and ends. Right now, all he knows is he doesn’t want the man to die, to leave, to let go and leave him alone.

Megumi thinks, this should be enough.

“Megumi,” Gojo calls out, fingers reaching out to grab his chin gently. Megumi shivers at the contact but allows himself to be held, to be turned. Gojo’s fingers trail over his cheeks, skittering over pale skin. Megumi leans further into it, eyes never leaving Gojo’s.

“Is that true?”

Megumi hums, eyes locked on the man as he moves his head to press a soft, barely-there kiss on the inside of Gojo’s wrist. He hears Gojo’s breath stutter, and he hums again, fluttering his lashes while pulling away slightly.

“Satoru,” he whispers, testing the waters as he calls out his teacher’s name. The effect is instant, his teacher’s eyes darkening, pupils dilating, as Megumi moves to sit right over Gojo’s crotch where he can feel the stirrings of something hard right against his ass. He leans forward, lips just grazing against the shell of Gojo’s ear.

“Take me.”

A few seconds of silence pass and Megumi starts to wonder if he’s being stupid after all. Of course , Gojo doesn’t want him, probably has never thought of him that way either. Megumi may be fine giving his everything to this man—his past, present, and future—but is Gojo? His stomach plummets at the thought. Quickly, he tries to do some damage control.

“Sensei, I just—”

His breath gets knocked right out of him as Gojo flips their positions, Megumi now caged underneath the man’s arms. He gulps, eyes wide as brilliant blue eyes stare him down. He feels the man’s gaze roam over every part of his body, from his hips, his waist, and last, his face. Unconsciously, he whimpers. Gojo’s gulps.

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” Gojo grits out and for the first time, Megumi sees a crack in his teacher’s otherwise pristine façade. He knows Gojo to be teasing, stubborn, dismissive even—if he wants to be—but never has he seen desperation so clearly carved in the man’s eyes, in the clench of those jaws. Megumi blinks and reaches out.

“I do,” he counters, and Gojo only groans, burying his face in the collar of Megumi’s uniform. He holds his breath as warm hands start sliding up and down his body before landing on his waist, keeping him steady.

“I’ve been holding myself back, Megumi,” Gojo confesses, and Megumi’s heart quickens at the words.

He thinks he may have just unleashed all his rabbits in his tiny ribcage, just threatening to burst out, especially when rough lips whisper against his skin, eliciting a soft moan to escape his lips. Gojo stiffens and when he lifts his head, Megumi swears there’s a storm brewing in those pacific blues and Megumi is simply a shipwreck waiting to happen.

“I won’t break,” Megumi mumbles, reaching out to grab Gojo’s cheeks and running smooth circles over the apples of his cheeks. He’s being an absolute sap right now, probably even killing the mood, but the way Gojo holds back a whimper, hips flushed against his, a distinct bulge right in the middle, makes Megumi think otherwise.

“You’re still too young for this,” Gojo grits out, clinging to the last vestige of what seems to be an adult’s responsibility. “It’s just the room. We can figure something out instead.”

Megumi glares. “And have you die on me?” It sounds farfetched but Megumi doesn’t want to take any chances. “Sensei, I don’t want to lose you.” He holds Gojo’s face as if he’s holding his own heart, gentle yet insistent. “None of us do so—” Megumi gives it his all and presses his lips against the man’s, quick and easy. His cheeks burn .

“Take me already, Satoru.”

He doesn’t need to say it twice.

Gojo lunges forward, taking Megumi as demanded. Megumi grabs onto his teacher’s shoulders, grounding him from the kitten licks and gentle bites all over his neck. He swallows back a moan and covers his mouth with his free hand as Gojo’s lips hover right over his pulse point. He shivers with each breath Gojo takes and when his teacher glances at him, dark eyes watching Megumi’s every move, Gojo opens his mouth and bites.

Megumi keens.

“This is what we’ll do, Megumi,” Gojo breathes, his slow breaths turning into ragged panting as he moves to kiss the numerous bites he placed on pale, fragile skin. “What I’ll do to every inch of your body if we continue.”

As if to prove his point, Gojo slips a hand underneath his shirt, warm and large, drawing circles over his sensitive skin. Megumi whimpers.

“So, take it back my blessing,” Gojo murmurs and fuck , Megumi’s cock just twitched.

He doesn’t understand why he’s falling apart so easily, body turning into putty with just a couple of hickeys painted over his neck turning it into a canvas of red and blues. Warmth bubbles in his gut, coiling into something heady, steady. He doesn’t know what to think of it.

“Why?” Megumi gasps, his hand slipping easily into Gojo’s hair, threading through silky, silver strands. Gojo closes his eyes at the touch, nuzzling into Megumi’s neck.

“Because,” Gojo starts, assaulting Megumi’s neck again, this time peppering it with light kisses before moving to Megumi’s ear, nibbling it with his lips. “I won’t hold back.”

Gojo pulls away, licking his lips as he stares down at Megumi’s flushed visage.

“Nine years, Megumi,” Gojo continues, his hand moving lower to palm Megumi’s growing erection. Megumi gasps, shivering as Gojo teasingly dips his fingers underneath worn pants, caressing the skin underneath. “I held myself back for nine years because I didn’t want to scare you.” The other hand moves to hold his face, a stark contrast to the wandering fingers below his waist. “I wanted to wait until you’re ready.”

Megumi blinks, a cacophony of emotions swelling in his chest—arousal, disbelief, embarrassment, glee—they all tumble and turn until he’s left gasping, squeezing his eyes shut and turning away. There’s no way Gojo’s saying all of this.

He hears muffled laughter and Gojo patiently turns his face forward so Gojo can have a better look at him. When Megumi stares, this time he sees something else in those fervent eyes. He sees a glimmer of fondness, of tenderness, and Megumi’s stomach flips in on itself.

“I like you, Megumi.” Gojo kisses his lips, similar to what Megumi did moments before except he’s not even sure if it should even be properly called a kiss. Gojo simply brushed their lips together before pulling away to gaze into forest greens, waiting.

Megumi’s sure he looks like an overripe tomato, all the blood rushing back to his face instead of his dick. He bites his lips and Gojo watches the act with languid, heated eyes. Megumi chokes.

“O-oh,” is all he stutters out, his hands unconsciously gripping Gojo’s hair even tighter. Gojo chuckles, reaching out to disentangle Megumi’s fingers from his hair and intertwining them with his.

“You don’t have to say anything back,” Gojo murmurs, kissing each knuckle on Megumi’s hand, eyes never leaving his. “I just want you to know why I don’t want this to happen.” He pauses. “Right now, at least.”

The last part catches Megumi off-guard and it momentarily breaks the haze of confusion and heat surrounding them. He snorts.

“You’re such a pervert.”

Gojo smiles.

“Mhm, only for you though.”

Megumi huffs, another kind of warmth seeping through his skin.

“That’s so cheesy.”

Gojo chuckles, dropping his head so that both their foreheads meet. Gojo eyes him with such clarity, such reverence, that Megumi holds his breath, hesitant to say anything more. He doesn’t want to assume anything, doesn’t want to even think of anything, but there’s just something in the way Gojo looks at him that makes him feel ethereal, ephemeral even. Megumi thinks back to shooting stars on night skies and wonders if this is what he looks like in the eyes of the Strongest.

He swallows thickly.

“I won’t break, Sensei.” He repeats the words, hoping they’ll get across Gojo’s thick skull. Megumi tucks away a few strands of hair falling over Gojo’s forehead, lips curving into a tiny smile. “And I really don’t mind.” He’s still embarrassed, still jittery, but after that confession, he’s at least certain he won’t regret it.

“I trust you,” he whispers, just over the man’s lips, lashes fanning across his cheeks as he closes his eyes. He doesn’t want to see Gojo’s reaction, doesn’t want to see those blue eyes stare deep into his soul as if digging, searching, for the truth.

Again, he’s met with silence, and he’s so tempted to open his eyes, to check if Gojo’s still there when a bruising, heated kiss lands on his lips. He gasps, eyes flying open as Gojo plunders his mouth, slipping between his lips, sucking, licking, biting. Megumi groans.

It’s dizzying, the way Gojo maps each and every crevice of his mouth and all Megumi can do is take it.  He swallows his own moans, hands moving to grip Gojo’s shoulders. He must have let out a whimper, a sound, because Gojo grunts, pulling away slightly, a string of saliva connecting their lips as Megumi blearily looks up at him. Gojo licks it away and Megumi almost pouts, finding the thought of having something connecting them taken away displeasing. Gojo chuckles.

“I’ll make you feel good, Megumi,” Gojo whispers, hands going up to his chest, fingers skittering over his nipples. Megumi freezes, eyes going wide when hot palms start caressing his skin. “So, so good.”

He mouths at Megumi’s neck before biting at the junction where neck meets shoulder. Megumi howls, feeling the teeth dig through his skin. He feels Gojo smirk through his skin, brow arched as he watches Megumi pant into his hand. Gojo’s hand starts to rub slow, teasing circles over his nipple and Megumi keens, face flushing harder at the sensation.

“Sensei what—” His words get cut off with a moan when Gojo removes his hand, replacing it with a warm, wet mouth.

He has no idea when that happened—that being Gojo pushing his shirt so high up that it revealed the entirety of his chest. Gojo bats his lashes as he flicks his tongue over his nipple and Megumi instantly arches his back, fingers slipping through Gojo’s hair. The man then switches from teasing licks to gentle bites while his other hand tweaks with Megumi’s other nipple, bringing his nerves alight.

Megumi’s never done anything to his body of this nature, content to simply run his hand up and down his cock, imagining all the ways someone can take him, from the front or the back, before spilling all over his hand. And now? Now his head’s swimming in pleasure from having his nipples licked, bitten, kissed, and touched. Megumi moans.

Gojo pulls back and gives the same attention to his other nipple, latching onto it with soft, swollen lips. Megumi looks down at this teacher, panting with short breaths and immediately regrets it. Gojo watches him with an avid gaze, the blue in his eyes a raging tide, tonguing his nipple before biting the skin around it. Megumi jerks.

The man finally, finally , moves away from his chest, now quivering and stinging from oversensitivity. His legs twitch every now and then while his pants strain against his hardening cock. He glares at Gojo with teary eyes, biting back a whine threatening to escape his throat.

“You’re sensitive here,” Gojo comments, thumb grazing the skin where his mouth was and Megumi hisses.

“And who’s fault do you think that is?” He sounds breathless, hands tugging on Gojo’s hair as he scowls because what the fuck was that? He’s never thought of playing with his chest like that and here he is, a writhing, moaning mess unravelling right in front of Gojo’s eyes.

Gojo hums, the corners of his lips rising into a smile. He kisses Megumi’s pebbled nipples once more before diving deeper, lower, eyes never straying from his.

“I wonder if you’re sensitive down here too.”

Megumi’s eyes grow wide.

“Wait, Sensei don’t—” He cuts himself off with a whine. Gojo palms his growing erection with a smile, warm hands placing pressure on his cock. Megumi wants to kick him away, too embarrassed, too sensitive , to even be doing this but he restrains himself, pulls back and hides his face into the pillow.

“You said you wanted this,” Gojo whispers, low and sultry. Megumi refuses to look at him, refuses to acknowledge the heat spiking in his lower abdomen as Gojo’s hands deftly unbuttons his pants, pulling them down his legs. He takes them off in one swift motion and Megumi gasps when the cool air hits his heated skin.

Curious, he turns his head and meets Gojo’s eyes. The man shoots him a sly look as he immediately gets to work, fingers digging into his thigh as his mouth hovers over his cock, still covered by one more layer.

“You’re beautiful, Megumi. My Megumi,” Gojo chants, whispering prayers into his skin, dropping light kisses on the inside of his thigh while Megumi lies down with bated breath, whimpering with each shift, each coil, of Gojo’s muscles. Megumi’s hands tug on Gojo’s hair once more and this time, it earns a deep groan from the man. His cock twitches in interest.

“Have you ever?” Gojo asks, fingers dancing over the hem of his underwear before moving to trace the jut of his hips with slow, even strokes. Megumi finds it harder and harder to concentrate, face a deep burgundy as he mutely shakes his head. He’s afraid that if he speaks, he’ll only break, cry, and crumble into a thousand pieces under Gojo’s heated gaze.

At the admission Gojo pauses, minuscule but telling. His touches turn gentler, slower—if that’s even possible—as Gojo lifts himself up and stares into Megumi’s eyes. His hands leave Megumi’s hips and Megumi whines, a shred of annoyance revealing itself in his features. Gojo laughs lightly, burying his nose in the crook of Megumi’s neck.

“Your first?”

Megumi bites his lip hard enough to break the skin. “Y-yes,” he stutters once Gojo’s back to licking the column of his neck, marking his ivory skin once again. He hisses as teeth meets skin, already lamenting at the bruises he’ll see the next day. Gojo hums, kissing the spot he just attacked softly before pulling away.

Megumi knows he’s all but putty the moment Gojo captured his lips and gazed at him with impassioned eyes. Still, it doesn’t stop Megumi’s breath from hitching, hands trembling as Gojo intertwines their fingers once again. Gojo looks so enraptured, so smitten , and the fact that it’s all because of him , leaves Megumi’s stomach in all kinds of knots. He gulps.

“I’ll be gentle, hm?”

Megumi rolls his eyes. “You say this right after mauling my neck?”

Gojo laughs, leaving butterfly kisses all over Megumi’s face. Megumi squirms.

“Well darling, if you want me to go rough all you had to do was ask.”

“ Sensei—”

“Ah, Megumi,” Gojo tuts, hands going up and down Megumi’s ribs as he presses his hips closer, grinding his own erection against Megumi’s cock. Megumi gasps, grabbing onto Gojo’s shoulders and throwing him a half-hearted glare. “I liked it better when you called me Satoru.”

He keeps his mouth shut while Gojo grins, hands briefly leaving Megumi’s body to take off his shirt. Gojo skillfully removes his shirt, muscles flexing with every move, while Megumi openly stares, mouth hanging open as the man straddles his body. He throws the shirt on the floor and arches a brow at Megumi’s wide eyes and open mouth.

“Like what you see?”

Megumi only chokes.

Gojo laughs, this time removing Megumi’s uniform. Gojo takes it off with relative ease but proves to be a little difficult thanks to the occasional kiss on his forehead, cheeks, eyelids, that only rips a giggle right out of Megumi’s mouth. Gojo takes care of Megumi’s mouth right after, closing in on his lips before swiping his tongue against the slit, silently asking for entry. Megumi readily opens his mouth, sighing in contentment as Gojo’s tongue plays with his own.

Megumi pulls Gojo closer, wrapping his arms around Gojo’s neck, ignoring the heat radiating from the man’s body as he loses himself to the kiss, to the wandering hands going up and down his chest, to the leg pressed right against his crotch. When Gojo pulls away, his eyes are glazed and out of focus, but it doesn’t change the fact that all Megumi sees, feels , is Gojo.

Gojo slides his way down, back to Megumi’s cock eagerly twitching between his legs. Megumi brings a hand over to his mouth, trying yet failing to muffle the breathy moans leaving his mouth. He shoots Megumi one last look, a teasing and playful smirk, before immediately diving in, lips sucking a bruise on the inside of Megumi’s thigh.

“ Fuck ,” Megumi groans, back arching slightly as Gojo works wonders on his skin, biting and marking it all over. Gojo wasn’t kidding when he said this is what he’ll do to him.

Gojo continues to nibble on his skin, fingers sliding over to his briefs, not even stopping to tease or ask, simply tugging it down to free his hard cock. When all his cock is finally out, Megumi grits his teeth, hiding his face behind his palms. He can’t. He absolutely can’t .

“Megumi,” Gojo calls out, rubbing smooth circles on his thigh. “Show me your face, baby, please?”

Megumi shakes his head. “No,” he grits out, embarrassment flooding through his veins.

There’s no response from Gojo’s end but then he feels something wet land on the tip of his cock and he gasps, eyes growing wide. He moves his hands a bit only to reveal Gojo smiling, smirking victoriously even.

“There’s my Megumi.”

“Sen—Satoru, please what—”

Gojo grins and unabashedly starts licking his shaft, some soft kitten licks that makes Megumi preen. He grips on to Gojo’s hair tighter, twisting his body as Gojo moves to tongue at his slit, lapping up the beads of precum spilling from the tip. He’s never felt so taut, so intoxicated , just from touch alone. He tries to loosen his grip on Gojo’s hair, but Gojo keeps his hand on Megumi’s, practically telling him not to let go.

He’s still aware enough to feel his eyes tear up, face flushed as he watches Gojo kiss his cock all over, fondling his balls every now and then. Gojo goes back to biting his thighs and the sharp pain zips up his spine, arching his back once again.

“Satoru, Satoru, please .” He’s begging, gasping, groaning, watching Gojo gaze at him with glittering blue eyes, lips red and slick. He licks his lips.

“I got you, baby, shh,” he says, jerking Megumi’s length up and down, eyes fixed on all of Megumi’s reactions, from his gaping mouth to his tearful eyes to his writhing figure. Gojo groans. “Let me love you.”

Megumi blinks back his tears, curious as to what Gojo plans next only to see the man open his mouth and swallow all of Megumi’s cock in one go. Megumi curses, pants, as he unconsciously bucks his hips into Gojo’s warm, wet mouth. Gojo immediately places a hand on his hip, holding him down as he moves lower, nose practically touching Megumi’s base.

“No, no, sensei, Satoru .” Megumi’s crying now, too overwhelmed by the tight heat surrounding his cock. God, he’s such a mess. How telling is it that this is the first time Megumi has ever gotten someone to suck his dick? Gotten someone to suck hickeys on his thighs, blooming reds, blues, and purples? Gojo doesn’t even wait for Megumi to calm down, content to bob his head on Megumi’s cock, moaning every now and then. The vibrations send tingles down Megumi’s back, accompanied by a garbled mix of sobs, curses, and whimpers from Megumi’s throat. Gojo relishes them all.

He's so, so , painfully hard and the way Gojo skillfully uses his mouth, switching from harsh sucks on his shaft to gentle licks at his tip has him gasping from air. The heat in his gut starts to unravel, slowly but surely, and he has half a mind to tell Gojo that he's close, so close .

“Sensei, I’m—”

Gojo pulls back with a pop, lips swollen from having a cock shoved down his throat. He licks his lips, eyes dark as he shifts away from Megumi’s dick, now flushed red and leaking at the tip. Megumi sobs.

“Not yet, Megumi.” Gojo murmurs, his eyes shining with the promise of more to come later. Megumi glares at him, eyes shining with some unshed tears while Gojo wipes away those that have already fallen down his cheeks. He catches a teardrop with his thumb, staring at it for a single second before placing it in his mouth, sucking it the same way he did to Megumi’s cock moments prior. Megumi burns .

“You’re insufferable,” Megumi grouses, aroused yet visibly annoyed. Gojo leans forward and Megumi easily slips his arms around the man’s neck, tugging him lower. “You said you’d be gentle too.”

“I was, though?”

Megumi scoffs, hands roaming Gojo’s toned back, practically preening at how fit his teacher is. He’s still warm, a consequence of the room’s antics, but not fever-hot anymore. Right now, it’s probably because of their…activities as to why Gojo’s warm all over.

“Liar,” Megumi mumbles, mouth inadvertently forming a pout. Gojo’s quick to kiss it away, pecking at the corners of his lips before landing right at the middle. Megumi squeaks, mind reeling because that mouth sucked my cock and now he’s kissing me wait—

“You’re thinking,” Gojo points out, leaning back slightly to reach for something in the drawers. Megumi’s still too caught up with having his release delayed and now, with Gojo teasing him once again, to figure out what the man’s searching for.

Megumi closes his eyes shut, breaths coming out in puffs as he bucks his hips up, searching for friction. If Gojo won’t give it to him, he’ll have to find a way to get off somehow . He feels rather than hears Gojo growl as Megumi brings them closer, legs wrapping themselves around Gojo’s waist. Megumi pants, lips hovering over Gojo’s pulse as he keens, bare skin meeting the rough fabric of Gojo’s jeans.

“Megumi.” Gojo's voice falters a bit, cracking at the edges as he retrieves something from the drawers.  

“Just let me come , Satoru,” Megumi whines, going ahead and biting Gojo’s neck in the process. He hates how he’s the only one marked, claimed, and bitten all over. When he drags his teeth across porcelain skin, he hears Gojo choke back a moan. Megumi grins, sliding his wet tongue over the bite mark, humming to himself in satisfaction.

“And here I thought you’d just let me do whatever to you,” Gojo breathes, running a hand through Megumi’s hair as the younger presses a kiss against Gojo’s pulse.

“I would have if you let me come .” He places an emphasis on the word the same time he ruts up on Gojo’s clothed cock. Gojo groans.

“You will baby, you will,” Gojo grunts, disentangling himself from Megumi’s arms only to show the bottle of lube in his hands. Megumi belatedly realizes he must have been searching for that in the drawers.

“You just have to let me stretch you,” Gojo continues, spreading Megumi’s legs, opening him up until his hole is on full display. Megumi writhes again on bed, the sheets underneath scratching his already sensitive skin. He bites his bottom lip, eyeing the bottle warily as Gojo uncaps it with even, fluid movements.

He must have done this a lot .

The thought jolts him, jealousy surging deep in his chest at the idea of the man doing this with someone else. It’s disconcerting how much he dislikes it, that even if they’re here together, locked in this damned room with no way out, Gojo’s already had someone, probably someone better too. It’s not the man’s first and, frankly, probably won’t be his last either.

Gojo pours a generous amount over his fingers, rubbing them together until they warm up in his hands. The action sounds so lewd to Megumi’s ears that he ends up turning away, the previous bravado coming and going. He buries his face in the pillows, stamping down the nervous energy flittering across his skin as well as the traitorous jealousy buzzing in his veins. It’s all so stupid that he ends up biting his fingers too, hoping that the pinprick of pain will shove away all those treacherous thoughts.

He thinks Gojo’s about to start opening him up, especially with those long, slicked up fingers hovering right at the periphery of his rim. Megumi holds his breath, preparing himself for the breach, but instead a warm hand touches his forehead, tucking back the strands of hair damp with sweat.

“You okay?”

Fuck .

Gojo sounds so tender, sweet even, that it kicks up that spark already burning in his gut to flare. Megumi swallows the whine crawling up his throat and turns his head to face Gojo. The man gazes at him with soft blue, any remnants of a storm pushed to the very back of an iridescent skyline. Gojo circles his hole with one of his fingers and it’s almost laughable how gentle he’s being when Megumi’s just inches away from getting fingered and fucked open. Megumi licks his lips, deciding that he might as well bare himself open, ass and heart included.

“You’ve done this before.”

He doesn’t mean to sound accusing but it comes off exactly that and Gojo purses his lips, fingers stilling for a second before moving once again. His fingertip threatens to dip inside his warm heat and Megumi tenses, abdomen flexing. Gojo sighs and moves away.

“I have,” Gojo confesses, nosing Megumi’s neck, breathing in his scent. Megumi shudders as Gojo’s breath meets his skin, pushing the man’s head away with a scowl.

“With who?”

Gojo hums, finger going back to circling his hole. Gojo’s tempting him, all while listening to Megumi’s concerns. It should piss him off but Megumi’s so pent up that he brings his hips down, trying to meet Gojo’s fingers halfway. The man pulls away completely and Megumi groans.

“Some strangers,” Gojo replies, open and honest. “An ex too.”

Megumi’s face falls.

“Oh.”

Gojo sighs, leaning down so their foreheads can touch once again. “It doesn’t change anything but Megumi, my beautiful Megumi.” He moves to kiss Megumi’s cheek, then his nose, then his lips. “I only want you now. Present or future, I’ll only give my all to you.”

Megumi’s breath hitches.

“Liar,” he says softly, lips a few centimeters away from Gojo’s.

The man shakes his head. “Never to you.”

“And if it makes you feel better,” Gojo adds, running smooth circles on Megumi’s cheek. “I haven’t had sex in a long time so.”

At this, Megumi blinks, eyes wide. “How long?”

“Hmm, since you were twelve?”

Megumi gapes, the cogs in his brain turning and clicking.

“What the fuck?”

Gojo laughs. “Yeah.” He hoists Megumi’s body higher, earning him a whimper. Gojo smiles. “So, take responsibility, my blessing.” And without further warning, Gojo slips his finger inside Megumi’s tight ring, forcing a wail right out of Megumi.

Megumi heaves, hands holding on to Gojo’s back, nails digging deep into his skin as he feels the finger move around, prodding at his walls.

“You’re so tight Megumi,” Gojo breathes, rubbing his insides in all the right ways that has him gasping for air.

“I— ah —told you,” Megumi gasps again, trembling in Gojo’s arms. “It’s my first—” His words get trampled upon by a choked-up moan when Gojo’s fingers rub on this one spot. He’s watched porn before, knows what to expect when you get fucked from the back but fuck , no one told him how close he’ll be to seeing God just by having a finger brush against his prostate.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Megumi chants, legs clenching that Gojo has to use his free hand to hold his thigh down, spreading him on the bed.

“I’ll take care of you Megumi so just—” Gojo bites back a groan, eyes shifting from Megumi’s face to his asshole. His eyes are wide and full of lust, watching how his finger sinks even deeper up until all of it is inside. “Just relax,” Gojo finishes, licking his lips as he pulls his finger back a little and thrusts it back inside. Megumi sobs.

“I—I, mhm!” He buries his head in the collar of Gojo’s neck, hoping to muffle his moans because shit, he’s feeling so, so good .

He arches his back once again when Gojo hits his spot, speeding up his movements while Megumi lays there, taking it. He’s so lost to the pleasure, to the sensation of having something in him that he doesn’t register Gojo adding another finger inside as well. It’s not until Gojo thrusts it back hard that he shudders, mouth gaping open at the stretch.

“Sensei, your fingers they’re—”

“It feels so good inside of you Megumi,” Gojo pants, his own mouth getting busy, nibbling Megumi’s ears once again. Megumi feels the stretch much more now, feels the long, thick fingers wiggle around, hitting his sensitive spot with pinpoint accuracy that he’s close to seeing stars.

“So tight, so wet , just for me.”

Megumi keens at the words, nodding his head as broken moans escape his lips. “Just for you,” Megumi repeats, eyes closing shut as Gojo continues to thrust deep inside him, the lube dripping from his stretched hole. Another finger starts to prod at his rim, teasing light and soft strokes that Megumi shakes his head, chest rumbling.

“Too much,” Megumi grits out, lifting his head so Gojo can hear him better. When the man glances down at him, Gojo only blinks, kissing his nose softly.

“I have to stretch you properly babe,” Gojo mumbles, keeping that hurried pace as he moves his fingers inside and out his hole. Megumi whines, scratching Gojo’s back. “Unless,” Gojo continues, brows furrowing, sweat building on his forehead for a whole new reason entirely. “You want to stop?”

He stills his fingers that are currently buried knuckle deep inside and Megumi full out whimpers, rutting against his hand and pushing his hips lower, seeking friction. “ Satoru ,” Megumi calls out, his glare biting as he stares up at Gojo. He shakes his hips and Gojo only watches, marveling at how the younger unabashedly fucks himself open on Gojo’s fingers. His throat goes dry.

“Don’t stop,” Megumi sighs, egging Gojo on with fluttering eyes and swollen, pink lips. Gojo curses.

“Fuck, Megumi.” Gojo almost removes his fingers completely, but he stops at the last second, a third finger tracing his puckered rim. “I wanted to give you an out.”

Megumi scoffs at the thought. As if he’ll stop now , right when he’s lost in pleasure, right when Gojo’s heat isn’t life-threatening, right when he feels safe and sound in the man’s arms. Gojo looks at him with arousal deep in his eyes but also understanding. If Megumi chooses to stop, regardless of the consequences, Gojo will listen.

Instantly, Megumi feels a rush of warmth inside his ribs, close to where his heart is. He buries his head once more in Gojo's neck, breathing in the scent of sweat and his cologne, before stuttering out a breath.

“I still want to,” Megumi murmurs, kissing his collarbone lightly before nipping at the skin underneath. “I still want you.”

At the words, Gojo growls, low and deep. He immediately shoves in three of his fingers and Megumi sobs brokenly into his chest, hands clawing at his back at the intense stretch. He’s burning, his nerves firing from all angles, all screaming pain.

“Shh, shh, it’ll feel good soon, don't worry.” Gojo slows down the pace, thrusting in and out with careful strokes, rubbing that small tender spot within him. Something wet lands on Megumi’s cheeks and he belatedly realizes it’s his own tears. “Megumi, Megumi, baby, I got you.”

Gojo curls his fingers inside of him and it leaves Megumi gasping, breath knocked right out of him. He stares wide-eyed at the ceiling, visions of stars appearing in his sight as Gojo pulls back a little and shoves all three fingers inside. He repeats the movements—rubbing, curling, stroking—that all Megumi feels, all Megumi knows, is that he’s a gaping, crying mess, longing to be filled.

“Satoru, that’s enough,” Megumi manages to choke out, tugging at Gojo’s hair signaling him to stop. “I can take it.”

Gojo crooks his fingers one last time that has Megumi almost howling into Gojo’s skin. The man smirks.

“Can you really?”

Megumi bites in retaliation, uncaring if his teeth break the skin. Gojo laughs softly but heeds Megumi’s words, slowly taking his fingers out of Megumi’s wide hole. He whimpers when it’s all out, heaving at the emptiness he feels in his ass. Gojo stares at his winking hole, mouth gaping as Megumi strives to keep his breaths under control.

“Like what you see?” Megumi quips back, still panting, still gasping, but so, so emboldened that Gojo only nods, the words dying in his throat.

“Absolutely,” Gojo growls, surging up to capture Megumi’s lips once again. Megumi smirks at the kiss, tugging at Gojo’s hair, mewling when the man bites his bottom lip. When Gojo pulls back his eyes are blown wide, electric blue lighting Megumi’s insides aflame. Megumi licks his lips.

“What are you waiting for?” Megumi’s fingers dance across Gojo’s nape, biting his bottom lip just to see what kind of reaction Gojo will give him. It doesn’t disappoint, especially when Gojo curses under his breath, bucking his hips against Megumi’s slick hole. Megumi moans.

“Still want this?”

Megumi rolls his eyes, pulling Gojo closer to his body. “Yes,” he whispers, right against Gojo’s ear. He feels the man tremble under his touch and Megumi grins, ego flaring at the sight of the strongest shaking right above him.

“You won’t regret this, Megumi,” Gojo says, going back to the drawers. Megumi scowls, not liking the split-second loss of attention. He licks the shell of Gojo’s ear and he feels the man’s body convulse at the touch. Megumi blinks, surprised at the reaction, before doing it again, sucking and nibbling at it for good measure. Gojo curses some more, hands failing to get whatever it is that’s needed in the drawers.

“What are you looking for anyway?” Megumi finally asks, giving the man a brief respite after attacking his ears.

“Condoms,” Gojo spits out, rummaging through the wooden drawers. Megumi freezes for a second, the blood rushing to his cheeks. He knows the condoms are at the third drawer, where Gojo’s hand currently is, but a part of him wants Gojo to never find it—to just get the hell on with it.

“No need,” Megumi chokes out, face a burning red as Gojo pauses, whipping his head to look at Megumi.

“What?”

God , does he have to repeat himself? He feels the lube trickle down his hole, gaping and empty as Gojo keeps staring at him.

“No condoms,” Megumi mumbles, looking away. “I,” he pauses, biting his lip before gathering the courage and looking straight into Gojo’s eyes. “I want to feel you.” He fidgets on the bed. “All of you.”

Gojo blinks. Stares.

“Fuck .” He buries his head in Megumi’s neck, releasing a shuddering breath. “The things you do to me, Megumi.”

Megumi’s face warms. “I’m just being honest.”

Gojo looks up, chin hooking over Megumi’s shoulder. “No take backs?”

Megumi rolls his eyes, running a hand through Gojo’s hair again. “Just fuck me already, Satoru.”

Gojo curses again, sitting up and swiftly unbuckling his pants. He takes it off quickly, throwing it somewhere in the room. Megumi gulps at the sight of Gojo’s cock straining against his briefs, its outline glaringly obvious against the thin fabric. On any other day, perhaps on any normal day, Megumi would have simply looked away, face turning into different shades of red but now, he doesn’t care. He ogles at his teacher’s cock without shame, licking his lips when Gojo starts palming himself, letting out quiet grunts. His hole clenches at the sound.

The moment Gojo pulls his briefs down Megumi loses all thought, mouth hanging open. It’s huge . He can see the way it twitches every now and then, precum already spilling from the bulbous tip. He traces the large vein crawling up the thick shaft, twisting and turning until his eyes can’t follow it any longer. He gulps, nervously looking at Gojo’s face.

“That’s—” He gulps, shaking his head slightly. “That’s not going to fit.”

Gojo breathes heavily, pumping his cock while spreading the precum at the tip. He sighs.

“Don’t worry.” Gojo pours an ungodly amount of lube on his hand, sliding it up and down his shaft as he looks at Megumi with lidded eyes. “It will.” 

The man then squeezes more lube over his hole, the liquid dripping filthily down his thighs. Megumi shivers from the temperature then trembles for a different reason entirely as Gojo grips his thighs, spreading them until he’s wide open. He gasps.

“Your choice, Megumi.” Gojo presses the tip close to his hole, the heat emanating from the thick muscle. Megumi grips the sheets underneath, his own hips chasing that warmth. But all too soon, Gojo pulls back, clicking his tongue. Megumi curses.

When he looks up at Gojo, he sees the man’s eyes twinkle in amusement, tongue slipping out of his mouth to lick his lips. “Front or back?”

Megumi fights back the urge to roll his eyes but really, there’s little fight left in him. He shakes his hips, giving minute thrusts up in the air, searching for any kind of stimulation so he can release that built up pressure inside of him. Megumi whimpers, shaking his head.

“Front,” he gasps, twisting his body as Gojo holds him down.

Gojo’s brows furrow. “Are you sure?” Again, he moves closer, tip hovering over his entrance. “It might hurt.”

Megumi growls, a shadow of a glare in his eyes. “Just get in me, sensei.” He’s tired of the teasing, the push and pull, the plays the man’s been giving him. Gojo bites his lip, eyes trailing down Megumi’s body. He sighs.

“As you wish my blessing.”

When Gojo pushes the blunt tip in, Megumi almost screams, his muscles stretching in a whole new way. The sting causes tears to erupt from his eyes, the pain of having something foreign entering his body dulling everything else. He faintly hears Gojo saying something but he’s too focused on the pain, on the stretch , of Gojo’s cock splitting him open.

“It’s—sensei, I—”

“Fuck, Megumi, relax.” Gojo stills, huffing. “You’re too tight.”    

Megumi throws him another glare, but the effect is lost to the muffled groans and unshed tears. “You’re just too big,” Megumi shoots back, spine arching when Gojo moves again, pushing in a couple of inches deeper.

There’s no way around this—this being held down by large, warm hands, rough fingers gripping his thigh as a large cock enters him, its ridges pulling punched out gasps from Megumi’s mouth. He stifles his groans with the back of his hand, eyes blearily watching Gojo push in deeper.

When the head finally catches, Megumi screams, surprised at the thickness. Gojo shushes him, pulling back a few centimeters before slowly thrusting back. He starts to moan as Gojo’s cock digs in deeper, his insides slowly accommodating his girth. His knuckles turn white as he grips the sheets tighter, eyes squeezing shut at the pressure.

“Megumi, baby, look at me?”

Megumi resolutely does not open his eyes, content to live in the darkness lest he sees those disarming blue hues.

“No.” He bites his lip hard, once again trying to find a way to stifle those embarrassing sounds from leaving his mouth. Gojo shifts his hands, lifting Megumi’s legs that the end up resting on his broad shoulders. Megumi yelps, eyes opening of their own accord. He feels Gojo’s cock move around him, sliding in deeper until it hits that one spot that has him howling. He pants, hands immediately finding Gojo’s shoulders for purchase. Gojo grins.

“You like that?”

Megumi keens, gritting his teeth. “You’re so fucking— ah! ”

Gojo presses his body forward, practically pushing Megumi’s legs until it reaches his shoulders. He hiccups.

“Satoru, just what—”

“Megumi,” his teacher starts. He eases into Megumi some more, flexing his abs before slamming in repeatedly. He watches Megumi’s hole swallow him up inch by inch, a different kind of thrill overtaking his body. He licks his lips, glancing at the boy below him. “Can I put it all in?”

Megumi blinks, confused. “Y-yes?”

“All of it, Megumi,” Gojo breathes, eyes dark and heady. He leans closer to Megumi and the act causes Megumi’s breath to hitch, his insides to clench. Megumi whimpers.

“Can you swallow me whole?” Gojo continues, marveling at the soft gasps escaping the younger’s mouth.  “Take my cock, my come, inside this tight hole of yours?”

It’s like a switch has been flipped inside of Gojo and Megumi can only moan, nodding his head, unable to form words as Gojo continues to slam into him—not enough to hurt, but enough to bring fresh tears in his eyes.

“Yes, yes, please,” Megumi begs, his green eyes shining with unobstructed greed, desire, for something more . Gojo curses under his breath.

“Okay,” Gojo pants, folding Megumi some more, growling low at the feel of the boy’s thighs against his chest, his legs over his shoulders. “Okay,” he repeats, grounding himself as he pulls out, just until the tip. He gives Megumi a few more seconds, waiting, watching, if the boy will change his mind. Megumi only whines, clenching his ass, unwilling to let Gojo go.

“Please,” Megumi says again and at that, Gojo loses it.

He slams forward, the force causing the headboard to knock against the walls. Megumi screams , eyes rolling to the back of his head as the thick, large cock, spears him from the inside out. He doesn’t even register it, how his cock bobs against his abdomen, twitching once, twice, before letting out spurts of his seed across his stomach. Gojo shivers, eyes growing wide as he glances down, breath hot against Megumi’s skin.

“ Megumi ,” Gojo says, voice dripping in awe as he swipes a finger against Megumi’s cum. He plays with it a little, rubbing his fingers at the wetness before looking at Megumi once again. “You came just from that?”

Megumi’s crying so, so much . It’s the release, the ecstasy of letting go, that has him so soft, so pliant in Gojo’s arms. He whines again, shaking his head, the orgasm making him absolutely useless. Gojo almost takes pity on him but then Gojo moves again, dragging his cock back out that Megumi hiccups, eyes snapping up to Gojo’s.

“Wait, I’m still—”

Gojo groans, slamming back in without warning. Megumi cries, hands clawing up to meet Gojo’s shoulders, fingernails digging into his skin. He’s still sensitive from his release but the man doesn’t stop. Gojo repeats the movement, withdrawing halfway before meeting Megumi’s hips, pushing all the way to the hilt. His breaths come out short and quick, sweat forming on his brows as he pounds into Megumi’s ass.

“Fuck, fuck!” Megumi wails, broken moans stuttering out of his mouth. He feels his whole body slide up and down at the strength of Gojo’s thrust, tongue lolling at the ferocity of each thrust. It’s the rush of adrenaline flowing through his veins as he’s pushed further back into the soft mattress, ankles hovering over Gojo’s shoulders, as his teacher continues to slam deep into him.

When Gojo’s cock grazes his prostate, his mouth drops open. Gojo catches on quick, adjusts his angle, and attacks that spot dead on, drinking in all of Megumi’s mewls, whines, screams. He hears each slap accompanied by the wet squelch of lube against his ass and Megumi burns, arousal cloying his insides.

“So good, Megumi,” Gojo whines, a high-pitched sound that clears Megumi’s head a little. “You’re so—"

He groans, long and hard, his pace speeding up.

“ Fuck , it’s so hot inside of you.” Gojo pulls a few inches back before thrusting back in, balls slapping against Megumi’s ass, the sound of lube spilling out of his hole. Gojo shudders. “So wet. ”

He isn’t going to survive. Megumi buries his head into Gojo’s neck, tears cascading from his eyes as he bites into the man’s shoulder, muffling his loud moans. His hands feel every flex, every shift, of Gojo’s muscles, how they move in sync to Megumi’s pleasured groans. There’s nothing to dampen the blow of Gojo’s cock messing up his insides, of the thick, hard length, carving a place in his guts and claiming it.

“Oh god,” Megumi whimpers, eyes fighting to stay open. “God, fuck! ”

He hears Gojo laugh, a rough palm slithering to his navel. Megumi gazes down, breath stuttering when he sees a small bump beneath his skin. Gojo presses down on it, the grin on his face widening when Megumi lets out a broken moan.

“There is no god here, Megumi.” Gojo slowly takes out his cock, watching the bump disappear only to come back when he slams in deep. Gojo laughs. “Only me.”

Megumi doesn’t even register the resounding click in the room, signaling that their only escape, that cursed door, is finally open. Megumi only gasps, legs squeezing around Gojo’s neck—a poor attempt at stabilizing himself really—as Gojo rails him to oblivion, hand still hovering over his stomach where the bump appears and disappears.

“Do you feel good, Megumi?” Gojo asks between shuddering breaths, eyes raking over Megumi’s debauched face. His eyes follow the tear tracks on the boy’s cheeks, sliding all the way down until it meets Megumi’s neck. Gojo considers licking all of it away and he does just that, a hot, pink tongue swiping the sweat and tears on Megumi’s skin. The boy chokes at the sensation and Gojo grins, continuing his ministrations.

“Yes,” Megumi gasps, one hand crawling up Gojo’s neck, reaching Gojo’s hair again, giving it a harsh tug. Gojo groans, pulling away and placing his lips against Megumi. The kiss this time is sloppy, saliva spilling from their mouths, but none of them seem to care. Megumi doesn’t care, humming a little in contentment as Gojo’s tongue makes a home out of his mouth.

“Please,” Megumi whispers once Gojo pulls away, lips bruised and swollen from Gojo’s endless kisses. Gojo nods his head, dazed at Megumi’s striking image—dark locks damp with sweat, lashes coated with tears, and skin flushed a blazing red—Gojo drowns at the vision.

“Just breathe, baby,” Gojo murmurs, licking a stripe on Megumi’s neck once more. Gojo slams deeper into Megumi, cock throbbing at the pulsing heat. His hands grip Megumi’s waist, making sure to always keep Megumi on his cock. They’re a mess of sweaty limbs and disgruntled sounds, eyes clouded with lust as Gojo pushes himself to the limit, gasping when Megumi clenches around him some more.

He watches Megumi’s cock harden back at full mast, bobbing with every thrust. The head’s leaking with precum, bright red and begging for release. Gojo wants to touch it, wants to feel every ridge on Megumi’s cock, but he restrains himself, wanting to see Megumi come undone on his cock alone. He hoists the boy higher, practically bending Megumi in two, as he pours all his desire, emotions, into Megumi’s hole.

“I like you, Megumi.” Gojo repeats, eyes laser focused on the boy’s reaction. Megumi sobs again, trying to keep his eyes open, watching Gojo whisper the same sentence over and over again. A fresh batch of tears slide down his cheeks and Gojo tenderly wipes it away, shooting Megumi a small smile. It’s a stark contrast from how fast he’s going, how hard he’s pounding, that makes Megumi hiccup again, head reeling.

“Satoru,” Megumi whispers back, holding back his moans as he moves to cradle Gojo’s face, bringing their foreheads together. “ Satoru .”

Megumi still doesn’t know if what he feels is the same as Gojo’s but at each call of Gojo’s name, he makes sure to lace it with all the adoration, comfort, and security this man gives him. He coats it with the love he feels from the man, the gratitude of having Gojo with him, and makes sure Gojo hears all of it.

Gojo whines again, squeezing his eyes shut. His hips start to stutter, rhythm fluctuating while Megumi gasps, hands slipping from Gojo’s face to wrap around the man’s neck. His hole has long adjusted to Gojo’s thick length, swallowing the cock with ease. Megumi feels Gojo shiver, fingers gripping his legs tight.

“Close,” is all Gojo spits out, panting loudly in Megumi’s ears. He nods his head, hugging the man closer, unwilling to let him go.

“Want it,” Megumi gasps, Gojo’s cock hitting his prostate all too well. He chokes at the sensation, feeling it all the way up his throat. With every thrust Megumi fails to keep his bearings, too hung up on that large cock filling him up to the brim.

“Inside,” Megumi gripes, nails scratching shallow red lines on Gojo’s back. “ Please! ”

“Shit.” Gojo hastens his pace again and Megumi can only follow, body stretched beyond his limits. “Shit!”

With one last hard thrust, Gojo buries himself to the hilt, mouth releasing a filthy moan as he comes inside of Megumi’s hole. Megumi feels something hot spurt inside of him, filling him up in all angles. In response, his own cock bursts, come spilling from his sensitive head. His walls clench at the pulsing heat, milking Gojo dry as the man continues to spill inside of him.

Gojo’s cock twitches at the pressure, head falling forward as he breathes heavily on Megumi’s skin. Megumi feels so bloated like this, so full of come and cock that one single movement will result in the floodgates opening.

Gojo continues to thrust inside of him though, short and shallow movements that has Megumi whimpering. He’s too sensitive, too weak to even stop the man. He feels some of Gojo’s come slip out of his hole, soaking the sheets underneath. The man only stops when he’s had his fill, glancing down to see where their bodies are connected, pupils dilating at the sight. A finger grazes Megumi’s puckered rim, soft and pink, drops of his seed dripping from the edges. Megumi mewls.

“D-don’t,” Megumi stutters, hand weakly reaching for Gojo’s wrist. Gojo hums, forcibly tearing his gaze away from his work of art. He sees Megumi panting with bated breath, face still red from all the exertion. Gojo takes pity on him, carefully flipping their bodies over so that Megumi can lay on his chest perfectly.

Megumi yelps at the movement, nails digging tiny crescent moons on Gojo’s skin. The man kisses Megumi’s forehead in apology, wrapping his arms around Megumi’s waist and keeping him in place. They lie together in silence, catching their breaths while enjoying the afterglow. Once they’ve both calmed down, Gojo nudges the top of Megumi’s head with his chin, chuckling slightly at the frustrated groan leaving the boy’s lips.

“You okay?”

Megumi blinks, still swimming in the haze of pleasure, and nods his head. He can’t move a single muscle, too stretched at the same time taut from all of Gojo’s manhandling. His hole is still stretched wide open, Gojo’s cock buried deep inside his walls with no sign of truly flagging. He scowls.

“You were rough.” Megumi winces at his voice, too scratchy and hoarse for his own liking. Gojo smiles at the sound though, a bit of pride showing on his features. Megumi scoffs, pinching the man’s cheek in retaliation.

“Megumi!” Gojo whines, going back to his usual demeanor. “It’s not my fault you felt so good. I couldn’t control myself.” The man pouts as Megumi releases Gojo’s cheek, rolling his eyes at his teacher’s complaints.

“Can’t feel my legs,” Megumi groans, giving up on scolding Gojo and instead, indulging himself in the man’s warmth and attention.

“Sorry,” Gojo murmurs, running a hand through Megumi’s hair, pushing back the sweaty strands away from the boy’s face. “I’ll make it up to you.”

Megumi huffs, digging his chin in Gojo’s shoulder. He feels the man shift and, consequently, the cock inside of him. He lets out a strangled moan that has Gojo’s hand stilling. Megumi curses.

“You’re still hard,” he hisses, glaring at Gojo who only laughs again, hands drifting from his waist to the swell of his ass. Gojo cups it without shame, smirking a little while Megumi growls.

“Sorry,” Gojo repeats but Megumi knows the man doesn’t feel an ounce of regret. He huffs, lifting his hand to flick his teacher’s forehead. Gojo whimpers.

“Megumi!” He calls out again while Megumi ignores him, settling into the comfort of Gojo’s hold, hands on ass be damned.

“It was good,” Megumi sighs, eyelids getting droopy as he breathes in Gojo’s scent. It’s a mix of sex and sweat with just a hint of the man’s cologne. It’s honestly not the best smell out there but it does the job of winding him down, breaths steadying as he hums into the man’s skin. As if on cue, Gojo moves his hands to his lower back, gently massaging the muscles there.

“Yeah?”

Megumi nods his head. “Really good,” he echoes, shooting Gojo a small smile. “Not bad for a first time, right?”

Gojo’s brows pinch together at the words, a muffled curse leaving his lips. “I really wanted to wait for you, Megumi.” He sighs, rubbing his temples. “I didn’t want to scare you off.”

Megumi blinks, a different kind of warmth filling his insides. He scoffs, lying back down on the man’s chest, fingers skittering over Gojo’s skin. The man freezes.

“I’m not scared,” Megumi murmurs, head clearing. In fact, maybe he never was. He knows his teacher’s the strongest and with it comes the fear from facing something great, something unknown. But to Megumi, the man is simply Gojo Satoru—guardian, teacher, friend, and maybe, quite possibly, lover as well. He burns at the thought.

“Still,” Gojo presses, scowling a little as he threads his fingers through Megumi’s hair. “A couple of more years wouldn’t have hurt.”

Megumi hums again, indulging himself at his teacher’s light touches. It’s true that Megumi would have liked it to be later but after experiencing it, after getting the brunt of Gojo’s emotions, he finds that he doesn’t mind it all that much. Briefly, he considers Gojo’s words, his confession, his actions, and decides right then and there that maybe his teacher doesn’t have to wait at all.

He thinks back to all those times the man looked at him with thinly veiled concern when he went out on solo missions. Looked at him with teasing yet warm eyes when he ate his favorite food and dropped some of it on his shirt. Looked at him with a patient and gentle gaze when he got a move wrong, only to be pushed harder to the limit, praising him when he finally got it right.

Megumi blinks then thinks back to the present, at Gojo’s refusal, at wanting to make things easy for him, and at letting him enjoy his youth without the cloud of heavy affection floating right over his head. He almost smiles at the man’s consideration but before it can even show, he hides his face on Gojo’s neck, shaking his head.

“You don’t have to,” Megumi finally says, cheeks heating up. Gojo freezes again.

Megumi takes a deep breath, collecting himself, before sitting up slowly. He flinches when the dick inside of him twitches, clearly showing interest at Megumi’s change of position. He rolls his eyes.

Gojo stares at him, both hands landing on his waist as he gazes deep into Megumi’s eyes, searching, waiting. Megumi doesn’t want him to wait any longer.

“Sensei,” Megumi starts again, willing himself to say the words. “Let’s date.”

Gojo stares. “No.”

Megumi balks. “ What? ”

“I don’t want you to feel obligated to date me after having sex.”

Megumi gapes. “Are you—you’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I’m serious, Megumi.” Gojo does his best not to move a single muscle, not wanting to start another round of sex out of the blue. “I know I said I like you, but you don’t have to—”

“I like you, Satoru.” Megumi cuts him off quick, green eyes blazing as he cups Gojo’s cheeks with both hands, squishing them together. It’s a little funny how he’s glaring at the man, all while baring his heart. His teacher stares at him wide-eyed, mouth gaping slightly, that Megumi chuckles, the earlier frustration melting away.

“My like might not be a hundred percent the same as yours but,” Megumi takes a deep breath, eyes fluttering shut as he thinks of what their future might be. It’s scary, risky , but if it’s Gojo, he’s willing to take that leap of faith. “I want to try.” He licks his lips. “I want to know.”

Megumi smiles at him this time, making sure it reaches his eyes as well. “You’re my home, sensei.”

Gojo chokes at the words, completely stunned into silence. Megumi waits for Gojo, this time he’ll wait, only to see tears well up in the corner of the man’s eyes threatening to fall. Megumi yelps.

“Sensei? Satoru? Why are you—”

“Megumi,” Gojo whimpers, holding him tight and pulling him closer. “Megumi, Megumi, Megumi .”

“Sensei, are you crying? ”

“How could I not?!” Gojo wails, pouting as he glances at his student’s face. “You can’t say all of that and just get away with it!”

Megumi huffs in amusement, wiping away some of the tears with his fingers. “I’m not joking, just so you know. I mean it.”

Gojo pouts even more. “I know you do.”

Megumi laughs.

“So? Let’s date, Satoru.”

All the answer Megumi gets is an unwarranted buck of the hips, cock sliding in deep once again.

“Okay,” Gojo breathes, tears still in his eyes as Megumi whimpers, now glaring at Gojo’s unprompted act. Gojo smiles, all sweet and tender and fuck , it even looks like the smile of a man in love. Megumi needs to get some air.

“But maybe after round two?”

Megumi gapes. “Are you serious— mmph! ”

Gojo lifts Megumi up his cock and nods his head. “Let’s go on a date after this.” He slams the boy down and Megumi wails, grabbing on to Gojo’s shoulders. His teacher laughs but somehow, Megumi can’t find it in him to get mad. Not when Gojo’s whispering his name so sweetly next to his ear, fucking slow into Megumi’s tight hole. Not when Gojo kisses him on the lips, a smile on his mouth as he drinks, swallows, devours every whimper, whine, and moan from Megumi’s throat.

“I like you, Megumi. So, so much.”

And when they both meet their release once again, Megumi only nuzzles into Gojo’s neck, saying those three words back, passing out and already looking forward to tomorrow.

--

The next time Megumi opens his eyes, he’s met with warm sunlight hitting his cheeks and strong arms carrying his body. He blearily looks around him and notices he’s back outside, the four walls of the room nowhere in sight. He inhales the strong scent of Gojo’s cologne, still mixed in with their previous activities and smiles a little, burying his head deeper.

“You awake, baby?” Gojo asks, adjusting his grip as they walk out of the building. Megumi faintly hears Nanami-sensei’s voice but he decides to focus on the one that truly matters. He hums in response and yawns, still tired from all the exercise, so to speak, they did.

“Yeah.”

“Let’s plan our date after I get you cleaned up, hm?”

Megumi wants to ask about the other curse but figures his teacher might have already dealt with it. Megumi laughs again, softly this time, and kisses one of the many bruises he left on Gojo’s neck.

“Okay, Satoru.”

The room may have ruined the timing of things but now that he’s in Gojo’s arms, Megumi finds he doesn’t care anymore.

After all, it’s only a matter of time before he finds his place in this world—right next to the man he calls home.