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Exorcise, consume, hunt, exorcise, consume. The mere thought of the taste of his technique has him swallowing bile. There’s not a curse user on the planet who envies his technique, only the art of curse manipulation is appealing - not the consumption of spheres made of the worst of humanity. Day after day.
It drags on him, weighs him down heavily. Before Jujutsu High, Suguru didn’t bother reacquainting himself with the curses he consumed, just assuming that in the future he would be able to call on them to help in a fight or to scout out a location before he enters himself. Useful tactics, purely survival based, too.
Suguru Geto wouldn’t consider himself a prideful man, quite the opposite. Keeping the less fortunate safe from curses they couldn’t see was his birth purpose, something like a higher calling - that’s what his parents used to say. Once he was old enough to put into words the monsters he saw in the streets, his grandfather had told him about shamans and how he was a blessing to a previously ‘useless’ family. Turns out the old dickhead could see curses, just possessed no technique.
Growing up keeping the curses safe and at bay meant that he had little experience with using them, getting to experience Yaga’s teachings who encouraged him to build pseudo-relationships with the weapons in his arsenal was the beginning of the downfall, really.
It started small with the jellyfish-shaped curse that he’d collected as a child from a theme park, it was friendly looking for a curse, a pathetic little thing. He’d summoned it a few times as a child when he was experimenting and curious about his own abilities so it was the first thought he’d had. After that, it was the manta ray. Satoru loved that one, so he summoned it more and more until controlling it was like second nature.
Rainbow dragon remains one of his favourites, she’s calmer than she looks and twice as powerful as other curses in his collection, but he has to admit he has a soft spot for the more nautical curses, call it wistful nostalgia.
Which really brings them to the problem at hand. Suguru Geto turned twenty years old officially at three o’clock that morning, however Satoru was sent to deal with a curse in a remote fishing village. Satoru suggested that Suguru tag along seeing as the curse was reported to be a huge ‘octopus-squid’ and it could be a little birthday present, something to add to the jellyfish, koi fish, and manta ray. Suguru had stupidly said yes, not thinking too much into it and just rolling his eyes at his best friend's antics. Best friend, friend with benefits, casual soulmates? He’s not sure where they rest in the ladder of relationships, but it hardly matters. They’re Satoru and Suguru, that’s all that matters. Suguru is fine with that, a small price to pay to walk next to someone so gifted.
The village is quaint, it reminds Suguru of his own village. There’s little houses all crammed into one street, the village stores with produce stalls outside loaded with fresh items that smell heavenly. Bread, fruits and vegetables, flowers, everything loaded and looking fragrant, despite the crowded streets. The only stall that was lacking was the fishermans stall, not empty but only a few options for each type of fish. The man, if you could call him that, was younger looking but the bags under his eyes told Suguru everything he needed to know.
“Any fresh calamari?” Satoru asks, peering over the top of his sunglasses, an easy smile on his face despite the exhaustion he must be feeling from the constant missions, all grade one and higher.
Suguru rolls his eyes at his partner's antics, vaguely paying attention to the poor cursed victim as he looks over the other stalls. There’s a colourful one just twenty steps from where they’re standing, and Suguru spots something that has him wandering off almost brainlessly. A little octopus plushie, obviously handmade by the visible stitching and patchwork pattern, but that doesn’t detract from how cute it was. Suguru looks back at Satoru over his shoulder, who now has a leg resting on the stall as he peers into the poor fisherman, before he asks the kind old woman how much it would be.
It may be his birthday, but Satoru loves little plushes like this and it would make a cute keepsake. Not that he’s a romantic at heart or anything. Shoko would have his head for this if she found out he had to bribe her with a pack of Winstons the last time he did something that caught her eye (buying Satoru a pink shirt with little to no coverage). He’s not sure if they’re best friends or enemies sometimes, but that’s what he gets for falling for the first man he gets close to, he supposes.
He makes his way back through the cobblestoned street, the little brown paper bag tucked under his arm as he thinks of how long the curse will take to overwhelm. Normally, Satoru would blast it to pieces and be done with it, but if he’s going to consume it then Satoru will need to wear it down. Suguru sends a small apology to Satoru in the form of a prayer, as if it’ll mean or do anything, before he reaches his destination.
Perfectly clear blue eyes are looking at him with curiosity, the round sunglasses pushed atop messy white hair that always seemed to look purposefully tousled. Satoru’s face is devastating in the way that it could start wars with its beauty, but the sharp lines are as wicked as his attitude towards others he deems worthless.
“Treat yourself, Suguru?” Satoru smirks, nodding towards the bag. “If you want me to leave the hotel room, put a sock on the door.”
“How unbecoming, Satoru.” Suguru replies smoothly, patting the bag before turning teasing eyes back to the older man. “As if you’d be able to tear your eyes away.”
Satoru flushes slightly at that comment, ‘tsk’ing at him before nodding his head and allowing his sunglasses to slide down to sit on his nose once more, arms folded. If Suguru guessed correctly, he’s half hard just thinking about going back to the bedroom. Ever since they started this little adventurous fling, Satoru has been completely insatiable - it matches Suguru quite well.
The walk back to the accommodation Satoru booked for them is nice, the countryside air is something Suguru always misses about back home, the only thing really. Something fresh and peaceful compared to the bustling and busy streets back near the school - the city always being where they spend any time off. Of course, he doesn’t help clear the air when he lifts a cigarette from Shoko whilst Satoru has his back turned. It’s futile to hide it, Six Eye’s can definitely pick it up, but Suguru likes to assume he has some kind of defence against Satoru, emotional or otherwise.
“So, what did you buy for us?” Satoru asks him as soon as the door clicks shut, and Suguru huffs out a laugh as he watches the world's most powerful sorcerer fall back onto the king size bed, legs already falling open like the cheap whore he really is. “Something fun?”
“Satoru,” Suguru laughs exasperatedly. “What do you think I could buy in a small village like this? Don’t be such a slut.”
“Whatever,” Satoru grumbles, pouting as he lets his head fall back on the pillow. There’s a distinct outline of his dick straining against his uniform and Suguru laughs again at him, shaking his head.
“You’re insatiable.” Suguru huffs with a smile, sitting on the bed next to him, placing the little brown bag next to his head. “Birthday sex is supposed to be for the birthday boy, not you.”
“So are gifts,” Satoru pouts back, taking the bag in gentle hands as he glances at Suguru before peeling it open. He laughs, pure and unfiltered, as he takes in the little patchwork plushie now sitting in the palm of his hand. “We have a son!”
Suguru instantly flushes at the blatant look of adoration on his friend's face, and he has to do something with all of his emotions before he does something stupid like ask for his hand in marriage.
“Round two before we head off?” He offers, already tugging his shirt over his head, and he grins with the confidence of a predator as he watches Satoru’s dick jump. “It is my birthday, Satoru . You’ll have to do all the work.”
“Done.” Satoru breathes, looking through snowy lashes as Suguru settles on top of him. Strong thighs either side of Satoru’s hips trapping him in, Suguru just hovering above him, smirking as he watches his friend squirm. “You’re beautiful.”
Suguru hums knowingly, slender fingers unbuttoning the older man's uniform as he rolls his hips, biting his lip at the pressure, pleasure building pleasantly in his stomach. There’s such a thrill when it comes to sleeping with Satoru. They’ve been doing it for at least two years now, neither courageous to put an obvious name to their relationship, but holy shit the sex was unreal.
Satoru is loud and obnoxious, sometimes he’ll say things that make Suguru physically recoil from how out of touch he sounds, but at the end of the day the statement remains true - Satoru Gojo has a fucking mouth on him.
Whenever there’s a situation where Suguru might feel like he’s in control, Satoru just has to open that beautiful mouth of his and all sense of self-respect is quickly lost. Currently, he has those pink lips whispering praises into his ear, hot breath fanning out across his cheekbone as Satoru buries three fingers into him, excess lube and come from the morning dribbling out as he gets drilled with scary precision. It’s shamefully wet, and Suguru wants to make a face at how disgusting it is that he won’t need any more stretching or lube, but the shlick noises that fill the room have him drooling onto Satoru’s perfect chest, clear strands travelling down chiselled abs and making a pretty little mess in his navel. Satoru watches it with hooded blue eyes, moaning softly as his cock jumps at the contact, precome beading at the tip.
“Satoru, put it in already,” Suguru moans, no care for the probably paper thin walls. It’s his birthday, he’s hunting a curse, he’s got an angel underneath him. Better things to focus on. “We don’t have all day.”
Satoru curves his fingers, jackrabbiting them in and out faster with an open mouth, little curses slipping out with whines as he watches with rapt attention the evidence of his previous endeavour with Suguru cover his wrist. He bites his lip, hips moving as he tries to focus on making his partner come. That’s sweet, Suguru thinks. But it won't do.
Huffing softly as he moves, Satoru’s fingers mournfully falling from him, but that’s alright because he takes slender wrists in his hands and has them above Satoru’s head, taking in the way his eyes blow wide and his mouth parts, pretty pink across his cheeks as he looks at Suguru like he hung the moon. It’s sweet, Suguru wishes he knew what it meant. Shifting his hips, he lowers himself down raw onto Satoru, moaning at the instant stretch and the way his friend immediately starts sobbing, begging him to let him move.
“Please, Suguru please .” Watery sobs, as if it hasn’t been a mere minute since Suguru lowered himself, filled himself. “Let me move.”
“Alright,” Suguru breathes, nails already scratching down Satoru’s chest, angry red in the wake of previously milky white skin. It’s perfect, and he gasps at the first rock of Satoru’s hips, the way he has to practically bully Suguru’s hole to get him completely in, everything about the stupid man is bigger than average. “Fuck, always forget how big you are.”
“Suguru,” Satoru whines, his hips stuttering as he tries to stop himself from coming too quickly. Suguru smirks, cooing at him as rocks his hips forward.. “You can’t say shit like that, man.”
“Really, Satoru,” Suguru laughs, biting his lip despite his attitude staying cool. “It’s my birthday. You’re supposed to be kind.”
“Suguru-”
“You want me to have a good birthday, don’t you?” Suguru interrupts, a hand sneaking to yank a handful of white locks up, forcing blue eyes to focus on his own determined ones. There’s a steady pink flush working down his chest, and his hair has fallen from it’s little bun. Inky black flooding over his shoulders and back, bangs hanging in front of lust-burdened eyes. “Satoru?”
Satoru’s eyes snap back into reality, and Suguru wants to marvel at the attention he’s being given.
“Yes Sug-” Satoru breathes back. He stutters as Suguru starts riding him in earnest, his hands bunching into the sheets beside him. “But-”
“Then fuck me, won’t you?” Suguru demands, lifting his hips just high enough so that he can slam himself back down, letting out a groan as his prostate is met dead on, his own dick weeping and drooling over the both of them. “Be good, hm?”
There’s a glint of something dangerous in Satoru’s eyes, a quirk of his lip, and the sound of rustling as his feet are planting firmly in the bedsheets and that’s all it takes for Suguru to know the rest of his birthday is going to be spent limping.
“It’s oddly satisfying, you know.” Satoru smirks as Suguru readjusts his pants again, scowling at his friend as he grins like a wolf, watching Suguru flush as he huffs and walks closer towards the entrance to the abandoned building, tying his hair up as he walks. “Problem, Suguru?”
“Your come is dripping down my thighs, Satoru.” Suguru keeps his tone neutral, suppressing a victorious smile at the way Satoru falters, bright eyes faltering slightly as they dim, processing his words. “Now, I can sense the curse east, about a hundred metres. Game plan?”
The place is dark and damp, a perfect breeding ground for scary stories, there’s already a haunted tale or two surrounding the old fisherman that supposedly shot himself whilst selling out of the warehouse, but during their routine history they found he was alive and well in the city, it was a harpoon gun that had misfired. Still, that kind of story in an atmosphere like this, a curse was bound to be born - especially considering the financial hardship of the townsfolk. Suguru felt bad for them, he thinks he might have more sympathy had they not already tried to pin this mess on several innocent people.
He brushes away a cobweb as he crouches underneath a rotted wooden beam, one hand in his pocket casually as he swats the other in the air to rid it of the horrible stickiness that was spider webs. Satoru has set off slightly to his right, scuffing his shoes against the floor as he whistles.
Life as a sorcerer must be a lot easier with six eyes, Suguru thinks to himself. He can sense that familiar fizzle of energy, the void of light that pops up in lieu of where a picture of a curse should be - it’s difficult to explain, but he supposes Satoru sees every gruesome and ugly detail. He wrinkles his nose at the thought. Disgusting .
“Yo, Suguru,” Satoru calls out, voice almost bored. “Check this shit out.”
“Hm?” Suguru asks rhetorically as he ducks back under the beam, both hands stuffed into his pockets as he leans his entire body to investigate what his friend has identified. Hanging like translucent ropes on the beams above them is what Suguru can only describe as slime .
“Gross, right?” Satoru grins, rubbing some between his thumb and index, the fluid being blocked off his skin by infinity. Still, Suguru grimaces. “It’s left actual physical residuals.”
“Certainly sloppy work,” Suguru nods wearily as Satoru grins and wipes the sticky substance on his pants, making Suguru full-body cringe. “You’re a pig, Satoru.”
“You flatter me.” Satoru says as he brings his hands to clasp at his chest, batting his pretty eyelashes at Suguru like a cartoon character, stumbling as Suguru shoves him, passing him to investigate further.
“Six eyes picking up on the curses location?”
“Nah,” Satoru says with a shrug. He’s leaning against the wall, legs crossed and hands in his pockets like they aren’t in the presence of a powerful curse. Well, probably not all that dangerous to him, Suguru supposes. “It’s in the water I think, I’m not good at locating under static noise like that. Even the great Satoru Gojo has limitations.”
“I’m sure you’ll overcome them,” Suguru assures offhandedly as he walks to the hole in the floor, the dark and damp having seemingly overtaken the shoddily placed concrete. There’s the distinct smell of mildew and Suguru sighs as he realises the hole is in fact filled with water, possibly expanding under the entire building. Potentially underneath the entire village. “It’s in there. I can’t get a reading on the size, though.”
Satoru makes a ‘huh?’ noise as he bends his ridiculously long torso to inspect the stagnant water, head tilting as his eyes glow a little brighter, clearly trying to get a better read.
“Summon Poliwhirl.” Satoru nods, eyes scrunching a little as he rubs his nose. Overextending himself, again.
“It’s not a Pokemon,” Suguru remarks with exasperation, but he summons the smaller fish curse he accumulated a little over three months ago. It’s sort of like an axolotl in looks, something kids had deemed a nightmare with large black eyes and empty mouth, picked up at an aquatic zoo. It’s a useful tracker. Suguru summons it, letting it glide down from the inky black pool in his hand and into the muggy water beneath them. “Give it a moment, then.”
It’s quiet for all of two minutes as Suguru concentrates on establishing a mental connection with one of his newest curses, forehead furrowing as he searches in murky and dark water for some kind of sighting. Something wiggles through the water, rumbling the entire floor they’re standing on and Satoru makes a comment about ‘big fish’.
“It’s huge, Satoru.” Suguru grumbles, holding his hand out for ‘Poliwhirl’ to return to its owner, which it does gladly, leaving snail-like slime along his sleeve.
“I’ve already heard that line, babe.” Satoru teases, white pearly teeth flashing at him before he salutes, and then he’s dropping straight into the water as Suguru shouts in surprise, a hand going to catch him but failing miserably.
“Satoru,” Suguru grits out in frustration, already stripping himself of his jacket as he rolls his sleeves, hesitating at the edge of the water. Unlike the world's strongest sorcerer, he doesn’t have infinity to keep any bacteria off of him - Shoko had only just told him about flesh eating bacteria and how it grows in stagnant water. “Christ, Satoru.”
One moment his foot is dangling over the edge, the next he’s being thrown backwards as Satoru emerges in the clutch of a large tentacle, grinning like a maniac and gesturing at Suguru with excitement.
“Suguru! He’s huge!” Satoru shouts with a beam as he’s tossed through the air rather gracefully for saying there’s a fully fledged Grade One curse holding him. For Satoru it’s probably more of a game anyway, so Suguru just watches as the curse tries its best to squeeze the life out of him, unlawful screeching piercing Suguru’s ear drums as Satoru just grins at it, now hanging upside down with pink cheeks and sunglasses on the floor.
“Stop playing with it.” Suguru scowls, although there's a smile forming on his face. This curse will come in handy, Satoru was right. Huge, easy to destroy large areas at a time, and multiple limbs that seem to be able to grow and stretch at will. There’s something bubbling at the bottom of his spine, but he brushes it off as ooey-gooey feelings for his partner. “Alright, come down now. I need to consume it.”
“He’s a he , not an it .” Satoru pouts, still upside down but now with his arms crossed firmly against his chest. He looks ridiculous, and yet Suguru still has butterflies. “You’re no fun.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Suguru beckons the curse to him, inky black creeping up behind him as the curse just stares at him with one large eye. “Want to help him cooperate?”
“Sure.” Satoru shrugs, flicking the smallest amount of Red straight in the curses’ eye, both of them covering their ears at the ear-shattering scream that follows. It works though, because it starts shrinking and gets smaller until it’s a tiny, purple shimmering orb. Suguru grimaces at it, bile already in his throat at the thought. Satoru must have noticed the change in his expression, because he’s placing a hand on his shoulder - “Birthday cake after?”
“Yeah.” Suguru sighs, bringing the orb to his mouth.
Here’s the thing. Suguru is now twenty years of age, he has a regular sexual partner who's a little bit more than a friend with benefits, and he’s already got laid three times today just from the morning to lunch. So the fact that he’s in the shower rock hard and leaking really has him rethinking his own morals and life path. He grunts in frustration as the cold water seemingly has no effect on him, and when he reaches back to clean himself off/out, he lets out the most embarrassing whine he’s ever heard himself make. He worries his lip between his teeth as he tries to formulate a plan because right now he’s so horny he reckons he’ll die of a stroke if he doesn’t get off.
Satoru has gone in search of something non-fishy for dinner which is a task in and of itself in a fishing village, which means Suguru’s normal method of sitting on his friends face and demanding to be eaten out won’t work. He wraps a shaking hand around himself, letting out a puff of air as the intense feeling gets temporarily relieved. He strokes himself slowly, letting his thumb caress the head as it sweeps across the soft texture, collecting beads of precome to slick his way and he flushes at the thought of Satoru catching him like this.
Turning off the shower, he makes his way to the bed, climbing onto his knees as he lets his arm hold him up, hips humping the air as he quickens his pace. He wishes he was full right now, hopes so badly that Satoru will return and fuck him quickly before he loses his mind, his hole clenching in time with his own fist as he mourns the loss of a partner.
Maybe there is a god, because Suguru’s phone pings just as he’s thinking about calling Satoru to hurry him up. He takes a shaky breath, slowing his hand as he reaches to check his phone. He almost sobs at the notification on the little LED screen;
Sho having probs with High ups. Be an xtra 30.
Suguru throws his phone to the couch across the room and resigns himself to an uneventful self-fuck. If only he’d thought to pack any of his toys from the dorms, he’d be a lot less angry at Satoru actually showing human emotions like empathy.
And then he has a thought. Shameful, really, the way he caves so easily into it. Thankfully no one will be here to witness exactly how quick he agreed to his own perversion, but there’s a chill in the air as he summons forth the murky depths of his technique, a smell of salty ocean filling the air as he beckons the curse from earlier forward.
It slinks in front of him innocuously, innocent looking for a curse and about five percent of the size it was earlier. Smooth purple skin shining with the same slime as earlier, tentacles waving in the air about the size of his index finger with little ridges that stick up like little waves of water. There are suckers too, of course, but Suguru chooses to keep them retracted as he glances back at the door making sure no one for some reason has decided to invade his privacy.
He breathes out steadily, shoving his face into the pillow in front of him with a dampened scream. Is he really about to tentacle-fuck himself just because Satoru will be gone slightly longer than normal? Well, not exactly. That feeling he’d had earlier when they were fighting, the reaction to watching the curse stretch and grow at will- well, he’ll blame Satoru for the weird anime he always seemed to put on when Suguru was trying to focus on reports.
Shaking his head to himself, he wills the curse to move behind him so that he can get this over with as quickly as possible. It’s just testing a theory, that’s all. Two minutes and he’ll dissipate the curse and pretend it never happened.
“Shit,” He hisses as the curse decides to wrap itself around his torso, tentacles sliding over smooth skin as they move towards where he wants them most. It’s an unreal feeling, slick and smooth but not cold. Cooling his hot and sweaty skin yes, but the way it hugs the curve of his ass has him whimpering into his hand. “Oh, god.”
Face smushed against pillows, moaning into his own hand, Suguru lets the curse slide it’s limb over his hole repeatedly, just brushing the sensitive skin really but he’s leaking so bad he wishes he had a towel. Or Satoru’s mouth.
The first little hint of intrusion has him dry-sobbing into his own fist, biting down to keep himself quiet as he feels the foreign feeling of cool leather-like tentacle breach him, the slime helping it practically glide straight in. He’s still pretty loose from earlier, and he’s thanking Satoru endlessly in his head for taking his time this morning.
There’s a lewd pop as it writhes in, and Suguru can feel his own insides through the mental link, how cushiony soft he is, how warm and tight. He feels tears dripping off his nose as he rocks his hips back, brushing dangerously close to his prostate at the small thrust forward. It feels good, way too good, and he finally lets his willpower break as he slumps all the way forward, letting the limbs create their own brutal pace of push and pull - willing them to widen as they push in and narrow as they come back out.
He sobs out, hands clenching the cotton sheets underneath him as he comes. It’s watery and thin due to being fucked so hard in the morning, but it’s so intense all he can do is grunt and make aborted little thrusts, the tentacles not easing up at all. He whines as another thick limb holds his hips up and gives the one inside him leverage to start thrusting harder, little ridges catching on his puffy rim and having him babble out commands like he’s high.
It’s either been minutes or hours, but Suguru’s come about three times from the constant abuse to his prostate. There’s now three tentacles moving inside him, one thinner one and two thick that are stretching him raw as he rocks himself back and forwards against the curse, abs straining against the tentacles holding him up. He’s so far into it now, absolutely raw and delirious and caught up in his own snuffly sounds that he doesn’t even hear the door open, doesn’t hear the bag drop against the floor.
“Oh shit, Suguru.” It’s Satoru, and Suguru feels his entire body chill in shame, the tentacles stop moving and there’s just the sound of his heavy breathing filling the room. There’s a dripping sound, and Suguru shuts his eyes as he realises it’s the lube and slime flowing out of him at the lack of movement. “ Holy shit .”
“Satoru-” Suguru’s voice is pinched, tone low from how wrecked he is from the past… hour? Maybe? He’s trying to inch himself closer to the blanket covering the bed, attempting some semblance of decency. Useless, though, as he can’t even seem to release his technique - he’s too keyed up. “Please, just-”
He lets out a punched out sound as Satoru runs a long finger around his rim, gathering the slime and lube and gently pushing it back in, both of them groaning at the ‘pop’ sound of Suguru’s hole greedily swallowing Satoru alongside the tentacles. It’s tight, and it’s entirely too much, but his dick starts to stiffen with interest and Suguru resigns himself to sobbing into the pillow out of humility at actually enjoying how embarrassing the entire situation is.
“You seriously using your technique like this?” Satoru asks tightly, lip between his teeth as the slight pull of his finger drips the mixture of fluids down onto the sheets below them. His hand absentmindedly wanders to his belt and he undoes it, blanketing himself over Suguru, mindful of the creature's limbs. He groans into Suguru’s shoulder, placing hot kisses over the sweat-soaked skin, biting at the juncture of his neck as he pushes two fingers inside. “God, I think you’re going to kill me, Suguru Geto.”
“I think I’m going to kill myself like this,” Suguru grits out, steeling his nerves and pushing his arms back up, huffing a surprised laugh as Satoru flips them both over, the tentacles moving to follow their movements. “Any chance of you pretending you didn’t see any of this?”
Satoru looks at him incredulously, blue eyes shining and hair wild like he ran a couple hundred miles in search of Suguru getting fucked by his own octopus-squid hybrid curse. Pupils completely blown wide and spit in the corner of his lips, Satoru looks rabid . Suguru holds his breath in case he makes some kind of embarrassing sound.
“Can I eat you out?” Satoru breathes, stuttering a moan and palming himself as Suguru grunts, two tentacles pulsing as he rolls his eyes back, back straining as he tries to keep himself from coming just at the thought of Satoru between his legs, wet tongue amongst wet muscles, competing. He whines, and Satoru whines in response; “God, please. Please.”
“Ngh.” Is the pathetic response Suguru comes up with, spit dribbling past his lips and chin as he bites back a scream at the feeling of warm breath on his abused, puffy hole. Stretched far more than it’s been stretched before, but fuck if it didn’t feel so good. So full, that burning stretch is so delicious, the orgasms from earlier already tightening him up, keyed up and ready to shoot.
Satoru lathes his tongue across his hole, dragging it all the way up to Suguru’s tip, collecting the cum and pre that has collected, making the younger man sob into his own fist, eyes fluttering closed at the feeling, overstimulation clearly starting to fizzle into his bones.
It’s… unreal. Controlling a curse to do your bidding is sort of like an out of body experience, after coming the first time untouched he’d shuddered and sucked up his pride, commanding cool and slick appendages to slide across his cock with slow strokes. He could feel it almost through the curse itself, not quite used to separating his own feelings from the curses he controls yet, which is what makes this whole experience truly something else.
Satoru’s tongue is so hot and wet, so sturdy as he makes out with his hole, sloppy and leaving a wet trail as he lets his tongue dip inside ever so slightly, moaning deliriously at the sensation of the tentacle up against him. Suguru sobs, begging, pleading.
“Sat-oru.” A kiss, an open-mouthed bite, gentle sucking motions as he uses his hands to gently remove the curse from inside him. “Mm. Fuck, okay, just don’t stop.”
“Mhmh.” Satoru moans out his answer, nodding as he eats like he’s starved, a steady mixture of come, lube, and slime messing his perfectly flushed cheeks and glistening in the low light of the bedroom, Suguru watching in disbelief as Satoru ruts against the sheets.
“God.” Suguru keens, that pressure building in his lower belly like a warm comforting fire, nothing like the borderline violent ones he got from the curse. This one is like an ocean, coming in short waves just waiting to burst over the coast. The wet sounds of Satoru eating is like an aphrodisiac, Suguru thinks the sound is better than the act itself sometimes.
“Can’t- Satoru. Too much, toomuchtoomuch-” Broken pleas spill from his lips as he thrashes against the restraints he’s placed on himself, arms straining against wet curse-limbs that are unforgiving. “ No -”
That calming wave is more like a tsunami Suguru realises with devastation that wrecks him in the right ways, his eyes full of tiny black dots as his toes curl and he practically bows off the bed, sobbing real tears as Satoru grabs his hips and forces him to ride out his orgasm on his face, a wet feeling reaching Suguru’s thighs as he vaguely wonders if he’s died.
He shoves Satoru’s head away with a whimper, Satoru responding by pulling back onto his knees, wiping his mouth and groaning as he witnesses the sticky mess left over on the back of his hand. His dick is still hard, pink flushed skin with angry red at the tip, but even in his delirium Suguru doesn’t miss it.
“Did you come?” He asks incredulously, voice hoarse from overuse, cracking as he demands an answer, his own dick twitching in response to the thought that Satoru loved his face being used so much that he’d creamed himself without Suguru even touching him.
There’s white ribbons on Suguru’s thighs that definitely aren’t his own, and Satoru turns a beautiful shade of red, blue eyes flickering. He hooks a thumb into Suguru’s hole suddenly, making them both gasp and he groans lowly as he watches a small web of come and slime drip out. Satoru’s dick jumps, a valiant spurt of pre-come staining the sheets as he bites his lip, glancing back up at Suguru like that answers his question.
He supposes it does.
“Good boy.” Suguru says weakly.
The thing is, it’s been about three weeks since the Birthday Incident, and so far Satoru hasn’t mentioned it to Suguru at all. Which is.. suspicious, to say the least. Suguru knows that the other man can’t contain anything for too long so surely the other shoe will drop any day now?
He’s stirring the honey into his tea as he walks to his desk, tapping the metal against porcelain as he gets the last remnants of honey and tea off the spoon and into the cup. It’s been quiet all day, Shoko and Kento in the city searching for a birthday present for Yuu. Suguru already has a gourmet dining experience booked for his friend, not that he’ll extend the credit to his other friends.
There’s the sound of someone shuffling about in the hallway, and Suguru pauses with the rim of the cup just touching his lips as he watches his door creak open, Satoru stepping through with the confidence he always carries with him. Except there’s something different today - his cheeks are pink and his eyes red-rimmed like he’s been crying.
Suguru places the cup back down on his desk and motions for his friend to come closer, eyebrows furrowing as Satoru just shakes his head and gestures towards Suguru’s desk. He raises an eyebrow, huffing as Satoru just shrugs.
“Satoru. May I help you?” Suguru asks sarcastically, straightening in his chair as he pulls up the document about their latest mission.
“Fuck me with your tentacles.” Satoru says simply, like he’s talking to Suguru about the goddamn weather, or the workmen strikes, the state of the government. “There.” Accompanied by a point to the same desk as before. “Right on the desk.”
There’s a million reasons to refuse Satoru on the spot, especially considering the tears and lack of blindfold, and Suguru says as much. Satoru stares for a moment, sniffling before laughing and throwing his head back.
“I’m not depressed, Suguru.” Satoru says, already stripping himself of his jacket, throwing it onto the chair in the corner of the room. “I’ve been edging myself to the thought of those fucking tentacles for about two hours.”
Suguru just stares, helpless as Satoru gives him an unscheduled strip tease, layers of uniform falling to the floor to reveal more and more unmarked skin - it’s been at least two weeks since they’ve found the time for each other, and Suguru’s tongue waters in his mouth at the sight of that V-line that makes him insane.
In under a minute, Gojo Satoru is naked in the middle of his office, dick standing proud as he bites his lip and strokes it slowly, questioning ice-blue eyes piercing through Suguru’s soul, the only sound in the room being Satoru’s laboured breathing.
“Suguru-”
Suguru is only a man. A ridiculous, perverted, stupid man with the self-perseverance of a lemming.
“Get on the desk.” Suguru’s strained voice breaks the sentence Satoru was about to say, and he grins with blinding white teeth before spreading himself on the desk, stomach down and back arched. White tousled hair held up with one of Suguru’s hair-ties leaving that gorgeous neck bare and ready for manhandling. “Don’t touch yourself, do you understand me?”
Satoru nods enthusiastically, and Suguru lets out a breath as he undoes his pants, releasing his technique behind him as Tentacles creep out of those familiar black pools, barely the thickness of his fingers as they start to roam over Satoru’s bare body, dipping into every crease as Satoru breathes heavily, Suguru makes a mental note to ask him exactly what he wants later.
Neither of them have the time for a full exploratory session in the middle of the day at the school. Suguru hums as he reaches for the lube in his desk drawer, pausing as Satoru lets out a wounded sound.
“What?” Suguru asks, licking a stripe up his friend's spine, swirling at the top notch near his neck, delighting in the way his hips wiggle aimlessly. “It’s just lube. I’ll warm it up, princess.”
“Already open, been using the biggest toy we have, ‘Sugu.” Satoru whines, wiggling his ass to prove his point, and Suguru’s eyes zero in on the shiny remnants of lube smeared across that pink hole that Suguru loves so much. Owns, if he has his way. “I’m ready. Don’t fucking tease .”
The last part of his snarky comment is moaned out as Suguru bullies a tentacle in, letting it harden and fill Satoru, stationary as soon as it’s in to let the man get used to the sensation. As soon as there’s a tap on the table followed by a puff of air, Suguru wills it to slowly open his friend up.
“Fuck.” Satoru grunts, hands curling into the plush carpet Suguru placed there specifically for Satoru when he’s on his knees in this office, which is a lot more often than he thought it would be. “Full. Weird.”
Satoru doesn’t bottom as often as Suguru does, purely because Suguru loves bottoming more than topping, but for Satoru he’s more than happy to get him whimpering. He keeps that in mind as he slowly works in him over, small vines of muscle sliding all over pale skin, suckling gently with suckers that Suguru neglected to utilise on himself.
Purpley-red marks bloom up as the tentacles leave their little marks, Satoru whimpering into the void as Suguru focuses on his task. He uses a large hand to spread Satoru’s cheeks, moaning as he sees that perfect, pink little hole stretched by his curse, the blue-ish skin on it making it so much more obvious to watch.
Suguru stands there for a moment, watching with rapt attention the way everything looks, the wet squelching of the tentacles versus the lube Satoru must have used on himself. Suguru bites his lip, bringing a hand down to slap Satoru’s ass the moment he makes a comment about ‘moving on’.
“Brat.”
Satoru whines, choking on the sound as Suguru wills the curse to fill, tentacles thickening as he watches Satoru’s rim struggle to adjust to the stretch, hears the way Satoru’s breathing turns laboured, the way his dick spurts out precome like a leaky faucet onto his expensive desk.
“Ready?” Suguru asks, palming himself as he watches Satoro nod. “Okay, baby. Take it like a good boy then, you know how to stop if it gets too much.”
“Two taps.” Satoru hums, nodding before groaning as the tentacle starts to slowly thrust in and out of him, the slide giving him that delicious burn he was looking for earlier. “Fuck, Suguru.”
“I know.” Suguru sympathises, languidly stroking himself as he watches, feels the way Satoru’s hole feels through his connection, swiping a thumb over his head as leaks. “It’s a lot, isn’t it? Being filled like this, used like this.”
There’s an increase of speed, and there’s lube dripping onto the wood as it overflows with each thrust, the tentacles seemingly getting inpatient and slamming in as another circles Satoru’s lips. He’s making loud little ‘ah ah ah’s and Suguru’s starting to get paranoid, glancing back and forth from the office door.
“Going to fill that mouth, Satoru.” Suguru groans, his hips moving impatiently as he fucks his own fist. He walks around so that Satoru can see him, he sits spread in the chair, shamelessly getting himself off as Satoru’s pretty eyes cry from being filled and spitroasted. “Can’t have anyone hearing, sweetheart. You’re all for me, aren’t you, hm?”
Satoru chokes slightly on the tentacle in his mouth, drool dripping around stretched lips and Suguru groans, speeding his fist up as he practically fucks it. Satoru whines at the sight, dick leaking as it ruts against the wood.
“Oh, good boy.” Suguur groans, watches the way Satoru’s eyes roll up at the praise, the pace increasing as he gets railed by the curse with precision. Suguru maps out Satoru in his mind, communicating with the curse, searching, before-
“Ngh.” Satoru practically screams, hips jolting as he spurts out pre-come across his stomach. The tentacle in his mouth retreats as Suguru grants him his own breath. “Fuck, Suguru-”
“Yeah.” Suguru groans, watching the way Satoru’s thighs start to shake, the way his thighs and chest flush red, the look in his eyes as he realises he’s about to come untouched after edging for hours. “It’s okay, baby. I have you.”
“I can’t-” Satoru babbles, arms flexing as he grips the desk, searching for Suguru’s hands. “I-”
“It’s alright,” Suguru soothes, catching his chin before leaning down and kissing him, moaning at the taste leftover from the curse. Disgusting but irrefutably caused by him. Satoru’s lips are still so soft, and he licks his way inside, sucking gently on his tongue. “Come for me, Satoru. Together, hm?”
“Uhn.” Is all Satoru manages to verbalise before he’s shooting ropes of sticky come across the desk, hitting the floor and his own chin, eyes rolled all the way back as he sobs through it, the tentacles keeping up their pace to ride him through it.
Suguru curses, hips stuttering as he comes into his fist, the sheer amount dripping through closed fingers as he watches his friend get stuffed. It lasts a couple of seconds but it feels like forever, before he dismisses the curse and lets Satoru catch his breath.
He strokes sweaty matted hair, cooing about how good he was and how beautiful he looks, peppering his face with kisses before mourningfully telling him he has to get dressed before someone finds them.
“That was fucking awesome.” Satoru mumbles, watching the way the bubbles move across his fingers as they’re intertwined with Suguru’s. The bath is warm and full of his favourite apple and mango scented soak.
“Hm.” Suguru hums as kisses the crown of Satoru’s head, inhaling the scent of his shampoo. It’s the same as it usually is, honey and milk. “It is. Are you sure you’re alright? I got carried away, still not used to setting limits with it.”
Satoru snorts, turning in the bath and causing some of the water to spill over, making Suguru crinkle his nose.
“Coming untouched not obvious enough for you?”
Suguru pinches his side, revelling in the way Satoru just settles back against his chest.
“Whore.”
“Only for you, or something like that.”