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Yuuji’s been making eye contact with feathery white fluff for the last several minutes, trying to pin down a niggling sense of familiarity.
Gojou doesn’t seem bothered by the staring, blissfully faceplanted on Yuuji’s chest. He’s been like this for an hour. Yuuji was messing around with a new game on his phone when there was a crackle in the air, more sensation than sound, followed by a whole man. Gojou didn’t even greet him, just yanking off his blindfold before crawling into bed to collapse on Yuuji.
It’s not the first or fifteenth time Gojou has popped up in Yuuji’s dorm room to turn him into his personal mattress, and Yuuji hasn’t been surprised or even worried since the first time. Everybody needs to recharge, right? Gojou didn’t seem like the cuddling type till he started doing it to Yuuji, but then, Yuuji’s not very good at figuring out things like that. Gojou probably can’t do this with many people anyway. His whole weight is on Yuuji—a hundred kilos easily. And Yuuji’s fine, only ever wheezing at the initial impact, but he can’t imagine someone like Fushiguro not getting crushed under Gojou’s bulk. He hopes Gojou doesn’t do this kind of thing to Fushiguro.
He really doesn’t like thinking about Gojou doing this to Fushiguro.
There’s a low noise, then a stirring, and Yuuji realizes that he’s stopped petting Gojou. The protest dies down when he resumes, dragging his nails along the velvet-soft undercut before working his fingers into the longer hair on top, massaging the scalp. Gojou melts, going right back to suffocating himself with Yuuji’s pecs.
Alright, he’s probably not suffocating; he’s been in this position for nearly an hour now. He did it for almost four hours once, blinking awake with a muttered apology and then cheerfully dragging Yuuji outside for dinner. Yuuji’s sure by now that Gojou’s managing to breathe somehow, though he really can’t figure out how when he’s in the exact same position he settled into when he collapsed on Yuuji and burrowed into his chest like—
“Oh,” Yuuji says, realization dawning, “you’re like a puppy.”
Gojou stills. Slowly, with a strange air, he raises his head. Heavy-lidded blue eyes blink at Yuuji. “Does that mean I get treats?”
Yuuji blinks right back. “Treats?”
“Puppies need to be trained,” Gojou says sagely, lifting himself up on both arms to hover over Yuuji. “Positive reinforcement. Don’t you know that?”
“No?” Yuuji’s thought of raising puppies, who hasn’t, but it wasn’t ever really a serious thought. It was never a realistic dream anyway.
Plus, Gojou’s not actually a puppy. He’s not even any good at making puppy-dog eyes. They glow too much.
They’re glowing right now, twin pools of starfire made severe by the way he’s frowning. “You’re not a very responsible dog owner then. Puppies are a lot of work, you know.”
Dog owner, Yuuji repeats in his head, every other feeling swept under a wave of confusion. Gojou’s still frowning at him, except it’s starting to look more and more like a pout, and—
“Oh! You want treats.”
“I do,” Gojou says shamelessly, lowering his head till his eyes are parallel with Yuuji’s. The tips of his loose hair tickle Yuuji’s forehead. “So, what am I getting?”
Yuuji’s mouth is abnormally dry, his throat clicking when he swallows. “What…what do you want, sensei?”
Gojou tsks. “That’s not how it works. You’re the owner, Yuuji. Decide.”
Yuuji barely hears the words, all of him drowning in Gojou’s sheer proximity. He’s even closer somehow, his breath warm on Yuuji’s lips. Those eyes fill his entire vision, a blazing demand.
Oh, Yuuji thinks, his third realization of the day. This isn’t how teachers behave with their students. This isn’t how Gojou behaves with anyone.
He curls a hand around Gojou’s nape and pulls him down into a kiss.
A smile bursts open against his lips, dying a second later in wet, writhing heat. That heavy weight returns to him, tentative for once, but Yuuji pulls Gojou all the way down, till their bodies are flush from lips to legs. Gojou sighs against his mouth, and Yuuji swallows it with a groan, chasing Gojou’s tongue back into his mouth.
Kissing his teacher shouldn’t be this easy; it shouldn’t feel like they’ve been doing this for hours—no, years.
But it does, and Yuuji’s hot all over with delirious delight by the time Gojou pulls back, his cheeks a faint pink and eyes a darker blue.
For an electric moment, they just stare at each other.
Then— “Not bad.”
“Not bad?” Yuuji asks incredulously, suddenly hot for a whole other reason.
“For a treat,” Gojou clarifies, with a curve to his mouth that Yuuji recognizes as pure trouble. “A very good kiss though. I always knew you’d be good with your mouth.”
Yuuji settles at that, mollified and just plain pleased, but a part of him is stuck on Gojou’s impish smile and puppies and treats, and it shouldn’t matter when Gojou’s sporting wet lips and dark eyes and his taste is still warm in Yuuji’s mouth, but “not a very responsible dog owner” keeps playing in his head, and Yuuji finds he can’t dismiss it as just another instance of him blurting something out and Gojou running with it.
He slots a knee against Gojou’s crotch, shoving up half on instinct.
Gojou’s eyes widen in pure, unadulterated shock. “Yuuji?”
“I’m giving you a better treat,” Yuuji says. “You like it, right, sensei?”
“Yuuji—” Gojou cuts off with a sharp inhale, wide eyes fluttering shut. The rest of him is very still; most of Yuuji is too, except for the knee he’s rubbing against Gojou’s crotch, trying to coax his cock to life through the thick fabric of his uniform pants.
“Lift your hips, sensei,” Yuuji says softly, not looking away from Gojou’s face.
He sees them, the trembling lashes and twitching lips.
Gojou raises his hips.
The angle’s better then, Gojou holding himself in just the right position for Yuuji to touch him there, and it doesn’t take long for him to see and feel the effects of his actions. The heat of it is lost between Gojou’s slacks and Yuuji’s sweatpants, but there’s an impressive bulge straining against his knee, and Yuuji can’t help staring, moving his knee in whatever ways he can to give himself a better view.
Gojou’s still not moving, but Yuuji can tell it’s costing him.
He keeps at it, pressing his knee into the bulge until Gojou’s breaths come out sharp and shuddering, then easing into gentle massaging motions that make something catch in Gojou’s throat, and he mixes the two, digging in as hard as he dares and rocking his knee side-to-side, and then he does it all over again, half blind instinct and half breathless deliberation, until Gojou’s panting, open-mouthed breaths falling hot and damp on Yuuji’s mouth.
Gojou breaks with a gasp: “Touch me.”
“I am, sensei.”
“No, touch me—” Gojou reaches down himself, and Yuuji moves fast enough to catch it, which means Gojou must have let him, just like how he lets Yuuji pin that hand on the bed beside them, their fingers linked tightly. “Yuuji—”
“Dogs don’t need hands, Gojou-sensei.”
“Shit.” It’s a throaty rasp, and Yuuji dimly registers that it’s the first time he’s hearing Gojou swear, and then all of him narrows to new movement as Gojou leans into Yuuji’s knee hips-first and follows every rocking, digging motion with his entire body.
His eyes are still tightly shut over a row of teeth dug into a wet lip, and his cheeks have darkened to a sweeter, hotter pink.
Yuuji stops moving his knee, but Gojou doesn’t still, rubbing his cock against it with eerily graceful rolls of his hips.
He looks good like this; he’ll look good anyway, in every way, but he looks so, so good like this.
“You’re really pretty,” Yuuji breathes. Gojou moans, and Yuuji blames that gut-punch of a sound for why he adds, “And a very good puppy.”
Gojou’s upper half collapses, but his hips are a riot, humping Yuuji with a desperation he can feel in his own bones, and he does consider reaching down to give Gojou a kinder, better touch, but it’s just so hot, the way Gojou’s panting into his neck and writhing against him, and Yuuji finds he can’t bear to lose that. He does touch the rest of him though, petting his hair and squeezing his nape and groping his sides, even holding his hips for a moment just to feel how they move—the strength, the heat, the power.
All his, at least in this moment.
He slides his hands to Gojou’s ass, cupping them gently. Gojou shudders against him like Yuuji’s done a hell of a lot more, so he does, digging his nails in and pulling at it, prying Gojou open as much as he can with the fabric in the way, and Gojou reacts like he’s been whipped, his whole body jolting on top of Yuuji before driving down into him with vicious violence. Something will bruise, probably, but Yuuji doesn’t mind, not when it’s—
Teeth sink into his collarbone, not breaking skin but threatening to.
Yuuji hisses, more in surprise than in pain.
“Gojou-sensei, that hurts,” he chides anyway. “You really are acting like a dog.”
Gojou’s hips bear down like they’ll fuck them both through the mattress and into the floor below. Yuuji adjusts his knee, digging it in a little meanly, and the teeth on his flesh vanish, replaced by hot breath and a hotter whine.
Yuuji’s own cock throbs needily, but all he does is squeeze Gojou’s ass tighter, earning himself another violent jerk of the hips.
He wishes he could really feel it. Gojou must be so wet. Yuuji’s never seen his cock, but he’s seen a lot of him—pale skin and hard muscle, beautiful and powerful. He can picture it, long and flushed and dripping—
“You’re making a mess,” he says, caught in the fantasy.
Gojou shudders and stills, even his breathing coming to a stop.
And then Yuuji does feel it—damp heat, spreading against his knee.
“Oh,” he breathes. “Sensei…”
Gojou makes a soft noise and goes limp, collapsing on Yuuji for the second time that day. Yuuji welcomes him like he always has, sliding his hands back up Gojou’s body to hold him close with one arm and pet his hair with the other. The scalp is a little damp now, and even Gojou’s nape has beads of perspiration that break into wet smears under Yuuji’s fingers.
His own body’s worse, hot and sweaty all over. He feels like he’s coming down, even though he hasn’t even come.
His cock keeps pulsing, half hard since he kissed Gojou and much worse since he felt Gojou swell against his knee, but his mind doesn’t share its urgency. It’s soaking in the man on top of him, spent and so sweet with it.
Yuuji leans down on impulse, pressing a kiss to Gojou’s hair.
Gojou untucks his face from Yuuji’s neck, peering up at him with eyes more beautiful and terrible than any sea. He says nothing, but Yuuji sees enough in the dark of his pupils and the pink of his lips.
“Gojou-sensei,” he says, “you made more of a mess.”
Gojou startles, a laugh caught in it, and Yuuji knows then that he said the right thing.
“So I did,” Gojou says, his voice steady but with a rough edge that goes right to Yuuji’s cock. “You should punish me.”
Yuuji blinks, mind blanking briefly. “I…should?”
“Mmhm.” Gojou drags his lips along Yuuji’s jaw, less of a kiss than just a touch, wet and warm. “Puppies need a stern hand sometimes.”
“I think that’s animal abuse.”
“Okay,” Gojou says simply. “Abuse me.”
Yuuji chokes on nothing. “Sensei!”
“What?” Gojou asks with faux innocence, mouth still pressed to Yuuji’s jaw and eyes still a hungry blue.
Yuuji just shakes his head, tugging gently at Gojou’s hair. “Maybe after you misbehave more. I don’t want to be unfair.”
“Oh?” Gojou raises his head, tilting it to the side. Now he really does look like a puppy. “Are you committing then, Yuuji? It’s a big responsibility, you know.”
“I know,” Yuuji says. And he does; he really does. “But I, uh, really like this puppy. So it’ll be worth it, even if it’s hard.”