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Satoru Gojo turned the corner and spotted Nanami striding away from him down the corridor. The tan suit and broad shoulders of the former salaryman were unmistakable in the halls of Jujutsu Tech. He smiled and rushed to catch up, anxious to speak with his fellow sorcerer.
“Naaa-na-miiiii!” He called in a sing-song way as he loped toward the other man.
Nanami stiffened in irritation at Gojo’s call, but he dutifully stopped and waited.
Gojo draped himself over Nanami’s back, leaning heavily. He ran his hands over the sleeves of the jacket appreciating the fine material. He respected Nanami’s taste in quality suits.
“Nanami, I’m so glad I ran into you!” Gojo exclaimed. “I still need to talk to you!”
Nanami spread his fingers wide and pushed his glasses back up onto his nose as they had been knocked askew when Gojo barreled into him, careful not to smudge the green tinted lens. He sighed begrudgingly, anticipating the headache that would accompany spending time with the world’s strongest sorcerer.
“Fine,” he muttered.
“What?” Gojo straightened in surprise. “You’re agreeing to talk?”
Nanami sighed again. “Is this discussion the one you have been hounding me to have for a month, Gojo-san?”
“Probably . . . “ Gojo shrugged his narrow shoulders.
“So talk,” Nanami grumbled, shaking his head slightly.
“Not here,” Gojo whined, turning his head and looking down the empty hallway.
Nanami clenched his jaw. He should have kept walking. He had ignored Gojo this long, why had he decided to acquiesce now? Yet, Gojo had appeared serious when asking him to talk on multiple occasions. Gojo didn’t dwell on frivolous things for long. He was like a magpie, moving on to the next shiny object that caught his attention. Too much sensory input would likely do that to a person, Nanami mused. And yet he persisted, so, if Gojo still wanted to talk and knew they shouldn’t speak here in the open, he would trust that.
“Where?” He asked.
Gojo tilted his head to the side, obviously thinking. “The faculty dorms.”
“Fine,” Nanami agreed again and set off in the direction of the dorms.
Gojo fell into step beside him, and the two walked in silence for several minutes. Normally, Gojo would keep talking, filling the space between them with nonsense. He didn’t like silence. It gave him too much time to process all the information with which he was constantly bombarded. This moment felt different though. It was true that he wanted, needed, to speak with Nanami. He needed his former kouhai’s help to cut out the diseased rot from the Jujutsu hierarchy, and Nanami’s analytical mind would be a valuable asset.
He hadn’t wanted to spook Nanami upon his return to life as a sorcerer though, so Gojo had let time go by. He had set Nanami up with students that needed someone like him, that tethered him back to this life. He knew that Nanami was just the type of person that would stand by him and support his ideas, but Nanami was still trying to figure out his place in this world. Gojo could be patient. He knew they cared for the students and distrusted the higher-ups too much to be at odds on this.
When they reached the dorms, Gojo led Nanami toward the middle rooms, hopefully putting a buffer around them. The door he chose swung in easily. The room was quiet and clean but, thankfully, not currently occupied. He watched as the dust motes circled lazily in the breeze from the slightly opened window.
Faculty dorms were more like temporary housing for adult sorcerers recovering from injury or needing a place to rest after long missions. Each of the rooms were like studio apartments with a sitting area and kitchenette separated from a bedroom and an attached bathroom by a paper screen. If a sorcerer preferred, they had the option to live on the grounds of Jujutsu Tech, but many of the adult sorcerers wanted space from their work, and the pay for their “specialized” profession allowed them that freedom.
Gojo’s vision swept the room as they entered. They were alone but talking about the corruption of Jujutsu Society was the farthest thing from his mind. He honestly hadn’t expected Nanami to agree to a discussion at all. He was used to being brushed off by now.
Nanami kept his time at Jujutsu Tech professional and his time away personal and exclusive. As a high-ranking Grade 1 sorcerer, Nanami was often assigned missions on a daily basis or needed to debrief completed missions, especially since he refused to sign on as a teacher. He didn’t have a lot of free time during his work day and preferred not to put in overtime, having negotiated a lucrative clause in his contract to prevent it as often as possible. Gojo knew this and had done his best to respect those boundaries even with his proclivity to invite himself into situations.
Despite their busy schedules, Gojo had noticed a change in the way he felt when he was around Nanami, subtle at first. Something that had started as an errant thought had grown to, well, a lot of thoughts. He could explore those thoughts right now, and, if Nanami wasn’t interested, he could play it all off as a joke. Nanami would believe him. He had already stated in no uncertain terms that he didn’t respect him, so Gojo would tell him it was a prank. Things might be weird for a bit, but they would be okay. They had weathered worse. Much worse.
Suddenly, Gojo felt nervous. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt nervous. He watched as Nanami walked past him through the entryway, disturbing the dust motes in their silent dance. Gojo turned back toward the door and slid the lock into place, too loud in the silence.
“Tsk,” Nanami grunted softly. “What’s wrong?”
Gojo turned back to see Nanami sliding into a more stable fighting stance, his gaze sharpening behind his glasses. He watched as Nanami undid the button of his suit jacket and positioned his right hand behind his back to grip the hilt of his blunted sword.
“Ummm . . . Nanami?” Gojo questioned.
“Your Infinity activated,” Nanami explained as he studied the room more closely now.
Gojo was confused. “My Infinity?”
Nanami leveled his gaze at him. “Yes, just now. Your Infinity activated and pushed me into the room. What did you sense?”
“My Infinity is always active . . . “ Gojo started.
“No, not here. Not at the school. You let the students touch you. And you never pass up an opportunity to touch me.” Nanami explained.
Nanami would pick up on things like that. He was right, of course. While Gojo’s Infinity was technically always “on,” he had developed it to automatically assess situations and determine where and how to activate.
“Oh,” Gojo breathed, his eyes going wide behind the blindfold, “so you don’t like it when I touch you.”
Nanami straightened, letting his hand fall from his blade. He looked directly at Gojo, his mouth pressing into a tight line.
“There’s no danger, is there?” Nanami asked.
“I don’t sense any,” Gojo replied, a little chagrined.
There was always the possibility of someone not using cursed energy trying to attack them, but they were pretty deep into the Tokyo compound and Master Tengen’s shields to be concerned about such things. Gojo decided they didn’t need to worry about any of that right now.
Nanami frowned. “So what was that about?”
“I - I don’t know. I guess I was feeling nervous and triggered a response.”
“Nervous?” Nanami paused, his brow furrowing, and studied Gojo for a moment. “Nervous about what?”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“You’re deflecting, but what question?”
“Do you not like to be touched?”
Nanami let out a long sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was definitely going to have a headache when this discussion ended.
“Touching, with consent, is fine.”
“But you don’t like it when I touch you.”
“What are you talking about?” There was an edge creeping into Nanami’s voice now.
“Please, just tell me the truth.”
Nanami looked down and shook his head slightly. “You don’t touch me, Gojo-san. You manhandle me. You show no respect for my personal space, and then pout when I get annoyed.”
“Oh,” Gojo repeated, seemingly startled by this confession. “I never meant anything by it. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, Nanami.”
Despite the sincerity of the apology, Nanami huffed quietly trying to keep his aggravation in check.
“I’m allowed to be annoyed even if I know we all have our roles to play here.”
Gojo frowned. “What do you mean by ‘our roles?’”
Nanami sighed again. He admitted to himself that he was doing a lot of that, but this was not the topic he had imagined they would be discussing when he had agreed to accompany Gojo.
“We aren’t the same people we were ten years ago, Gojo. Too much has happened.” Nanami paused, letting the weight of those ten years settle between them without needing an explanation. “But we bury the past, the pain. You wear a mask, and I - “
“Built a wall,” Gojo finished.
He always knew Nanami was insightful, but he hadn’t counted on this kind of perception. He briefly wondered what Nanami would know if he had been born with The Six Eyes.
Nanami huffed a laugh, bittersweet. “That . . . seems accurate.”
Gojo took a step toward him. “If we both know the truth, maybe we don’t need to hide who we really are from one another. At least, not when we’re alone.”
A muscle twitched in Nanami’s jaw, but he remained silent.
“Maybe,” Gojo mused, taking another step forward, “you could let me behind your walls.”
Nanami gave ground, taking a step back.
He looked away before replying in a hushed voice, “That’s not really how walls work.”
Now it was Gojo’s turn to correct him. “I’m pretty sure that’s how yours work. Are you telling me that Yuji and Ino and some of the other students haven’t found their way in?”
Nanami took another step back as if trying to find solid ground to place his argument. Gojo watched as the muscle in his jaw ticked again.
“I’m not that person.”
Gojo blinked at him. “What person?”
“Your person, Gojo. I’m not him.” Nanami kept his voice even. There was no need for this to be confrontational.
Gojo took a deep breath. “I know you're not . . .,” he considered what to say here and decided honesty was best with Nanami, “Suguru. There was a time that I thought he was my one and only. That I would never,” it was hard to say the word even now, “love anyone like that again. And maybe that’s true, I won’t ever love anyone like that again. But I can learn to love again. A person changes with time, with experience, with loss, with separation.” He studied Nanami here. “With people.”
Nanami shook his head slowly. “I can’t be that person.”
“Can’t or won’t?” Gojo considered him. “Or maybe you think it’s shouldn’t.”
“Do the semantics matter?” Nanami knew they did. “I built the walls for a reason.”
“Then why let the kids in?” Gojo asked, advancing another step.
“I don’t think you’re asking for the same consideration as the students,” Nanami responded, looking up into Gojo’s face.
“Probably not,” Gojo admitted, slowly closing the distance between them.
Nanami tried to step back again. His shoulders bumped the wall, so he squared them and stared directly into Gojo’s blindfold, finding his eyes easily despite their obscurement.
“You could let me in, if you wanted to.” Gojo reasoned softly.
“Maybe I don’t want to.” Nanami confessed.
Gojo tilted his head. “After all we’ve been through together, you’re just going to lie to me like that?”
Nanami looked away, unable to answer.
“What are you afraid of?”
“This life takes everything.” Nanami took a deep, shuddering breath. “The higher-ups don’t care about me. They only care about you because they think they can use you as a weapon. They don’t care what, or who, gets destroyed by their machine. I won’t give them more to take than I already have.”
“We could change everything. Together.” Gojo hadn’t intended on discussing his plan for Jujutsu Society, but maybe the things he wanted from Nanami were too intertwined to be truly separate.
“Professionally, you mean?”
Gojo let his head bob noncommittally from side to side.
“Would that be so bad?” Gojo asked, drawing closer still.
Gojo witnessed every microexpression that Nanami exhibited before responding. He watched as the muscle in his jaw worked once more. He was rapt by Nanami’s tongue sliding out over his thin lips, drawing the lower lip in where he pressed his top teeth into it for just a fraction of a second before releasing. The bobbing of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed. The adjusting of his glasses to hide his eyes. And finally the breath that stuttered just briefly as he inhaled. Each barely taking a fraction of a moment in time. Each a Tell that someone without The Six Eyes would easily miss.
“Yes, it probably would be,” Nanami answered. “We’re sorcerers. We know the risks. It’s better to not even consider what could be.”
“Why does it sound like you already have?”
Gojo pulled the blindfold down from his eyes and let it hang around his neck. He wanted Nanami to be able to see his eyes and know the sincerity of his words.
Nanami turned his face away, not wanting so much truth between them.
“Let me see your eyes,” Gojo requested gently.
“Gojo . . . “ Nanami started, shuffling against the wall. He was desperate for some space. Everything was too close, too real.
Gojo leaned in further, and Nanami’s arm shot out, his palm flattening against Gojo’s chest. Gojo looked down then slowly covered Nanami’s hand with his own.
“Please,” they both pleaded softly at the same time.
Nanami surrendered first. His fingers trembled ever so slightly as he reached up and curled them around the frames. He kept his eyes averted as he slowly pulled the glasses away and slid them into his jacket pocket.
“Kento . . .” Gojo said tenderly.
“No,” Nanami’s voice was quiet, “we can’t do that.”
Gojo pressed closer, folding Nanami’s arm between them. Nanami didn’t try to move away; he just closed his eyes and took a steadying breath.
“What can’t we do?” Gojo questioned.
Nanami’s head snapped up, strands of his blonde hair sliding down across his forehead on the left side. His eyes were wide, and Gojo could see everything that he had been trying to hide. A gaze at once so open - pain, self-doubt, fear, loneliness, desperation, and, underneath it all, longing.
“We’re colleagues,” Nanami’s voice cracked with emotion, “friends, at best. Nothing more.”
Gojo’s smile was gentle. “I won’t hurt you. I wouldn’t do that.”
“You can’t make that promise!” Nanami’s voice rose in frustration.
“Sure, I can,” Gojo assured him. “I’m the strongest.”
The boast sounded hollow without his mask in place, and Gojo knew it. He understood Nanami’s fear though. The loss of his friend and classmate (and prhaps something more?), Yu Haibara, had almost shattered Nanami. It had driven him from this life, and Gojo could still see the reservations regarding his return lingering.
Nanami was teetering on the edge of something he didn’t want to face. He turned to leave, wanting to slip away from this conversation, this situation.
“I should go,” he breathed.
“Please don’t run away again, Nanami.” Gojo’s voice had a pleading edge to it.
Nanami stiffened. He took a shuddering breath and turned back to face Gojo, resolve hardening his features.
“I won’t leave you again.”
And there it was - the crack in the wall.
Gojo’s hand curled around Nanami’s until their palms pressed together. Gojo’s was smooth, most often protected by Infinity; while Nanami’s was calloused from holding a blade but surprisingly soft as he likely used an expensive moisturizer. Nanami would think of things like that too. Gojo let his long, slender fingers intertwine with Nanami’s sturdier, musician-esque digits. He applied pressure briefly, a reassuring connection. Nanami’s fingers flexed in hesitation before relaxing and mimicking Gojo’s touch. Without letting go, Gojo let their conjoined hands fall to their sides, leaving only open space between them.
Gojo lifted his free hand and motioned toward Nanami’s forehead.
“May I?” He could follow the rules if it made Nanami more comfortable.
Nanami’s eyes softened, some of the edgier emotions fading. He inclined his head slightly, granting permission.
Gojo’s fingers brushed through the errant strands of hair that had escaped Nanami’s precise styling. He hadn’t realized how fine Nanami’s hair was and enjoyed how easily it slipped through his fingers. As he maneuvered it back into place, brushing the tips of his fingers against Nanami’s skin, Gojo felt Nanami shiver under his touch.
His eyes slid back to Nanami’s. The hazel irises were smaller now; the pupils dilated with an emotion Gojo had seen hiding beneath all the others that had welled up only a conversation ago. He stepped in closer so that only their clothing separated them. He didn’t touch Nanami though. He would keep asking and hope that Nanami would give himself over to this moment in time.
Gojo’s hand dropped from Nanami’s hair and hovered near his cheek.
“May I touch your face?” He asked.
Nanami’s brows drew together, a slight crease forming. “You’re mocking me.”
“I’m not,” Gojo assured him with a steady gaze, his voice gentle. “I did it wrong before, touching without consent. I shouldn’t be so entitled. At least, not with you.”
Nanami wanted to believe that this was just a joke Gojo was playing. It would be cruel and open a wound that he thought he had sutured closed as best he could long ago when he had let himself feel something toward a fellow sorcerer. But this was his life now - exorcising curses, tolerating Gojo’s antics, and quiet evenings of loneliness. He shouldn’t entertain this. He had already resigned himself to the isolated life and early death of a sorcerer.
Gojo’s eyes watched him, waiting for a response. Nanami didn’t want to look, didn’t want to fall into those crystalline blue eyes that saw everything and betrayed nothing. He let his gaze wander over Gojo’s face, desperate to find his waning resolve somewhere. Unruly white hair, released from the constraints of the blindfold, falling haphazardly over his forehead and into his eyes. No, Nanami wouldn’t let himself look there. Instead he followed the line of Gojo’s slender nose to the slight upturn at the end. His gaze drifted lower, fixating on his slender lips, hued a rosier shade than Gojo’s skin and glossy in an almost unnatural way. Gojo smiled at the attention, a natural reaction for him, but it felt more genuine and less robust than normal. Nanami took in the cut of his jaw, the smoothness of his skin - unmarred by stress or time. Finally, he lifted his eyes to Gojo’s, and his breath caught.
Gojo was letting him see everything. His pupils were blown wide with desire. His gaze was warm with an undercurrent of hunger. It was all there for Nanami to see. No tricks. No games. No schemes. Just Gojo’s emotions mirroring his own.
“Why do you want this?” Nanami questioned.
It was Gojo’s turn to look confused. “What do you mean?”
Nanami’s voice was quiet. “You could literally be with anyone. I’m withdrawn, rigid, . . . broken.”
Gojo wanted so badly to crush Nanami to him in a hug, reassure him of his importance in this life, but he restrained himself to just a squeeze of his hand.
“Not broken,” Gojo corrected. “We both have our own . . . cracks, but they only add character.”
“Some of us have more character than we should.”
“Nanami!” Gojo’s mouth fell agape. “Did you just make a joke?”
Nanami let his head fall back against the wall with a gentle thud. “I don’t know if I can do this.”
“You’re strong enough,” Gojo advised him. “You just have to decide that you are as worthy of love as I believe you are.”
Nanami lowered his head and spoke slowly. “Love?”
“From the students. From your friends. From me.”
“I . . . “ Nanami swallowed thickly and shook his head. “You can’t love me, Gojo.”
Nanami felt uncertainty gnaw at his insides. What if he let his walls down and couldn’t put them back? What if he let himself admit that being with Gojo was something that he wanted? He had spent so long telling himself that a relationship was something he didn’t want, didn’t need, didn’t deserve. What was he supposed to do now?
Gojo’s voice came out snarky. “Oh, do you suddenly outrank me and get to tell me how to conduct my business?”
“You know I would never - “
And then he was kissing Nanami. Gojo’s lips slid over Nanami’s with a gentle demand for more. He kept it brief, only wanting to startle Nanami out of his current mindset and not to take what Nanami wasn’t prepared to give. When the kiss was broken, they were both a little breathless.
“Quit overthinking everything,” Gojo admonished in a hushed tone. “I want you. I need you, Kento.”
Nanami’s breath hitched at Gojo’s insistence to use his given name. It felt right, intimate. Something just for them, like this moment.
“What . . .” Nanami hesitated. “What would you want from me?”
“Everything you are willing to give,” Gojo said without hesitation. “Your calculating mind. Your cynical tongue. Your damn fine body, which you should know I touch a lot less than I want to. Your heart. Your soul.”
Nanami’s heart was racing now, and he felt like he couldn’t quite catch his breath.
“That sounds like a lot,” Nanami responded in a hushed voice. He wasn’t the type to open up easily.
“We have plenty of time to figure it out.” Gojo’s words sounded like a promise.
Gojo lifted his free hand to Nanami’s face once more.
“I’m going to touch you now, and I’m going to keep touching you unless you tell me to stop.” Gojo’s gaze was steady on Nanami’s as he made this statement.
Anxiety and desperation warred on Nanami’s face for just a moment. Then everything fell away, and his features softened. He nodded his head, accepting the truth in front of him and acknowledging his own desires.
“I want you to touch me,” Nanami breathed.
Gojo smiled gently and grazed his knuckles over the sharp relief of Nanami’s cheekbone. Turning his hand, he let his fingers trail down to the angular cut of Nanami’s jaw. The skin under his fingers was smooth, and he briefly wondered what Nanami looked like with a five o’clock shadow. He had never seen him anything but freshly shaven. He let his fingers slide down under Nanami’s chin, tilting his face up slightly, and allowing their mouths to meet once more.
Despite Gojo’s mounting desire to touch Nanami in all the ways in which he had been fantasizing, he forced himself to move slowly. His lips slid over Nanami’s gently, punctuating his movements with feathery kisses. He felt Nanami’s hand curl into the front of his jacket as he began to return the affectionate motions. Gojo’s own hand skimmed over the side of Nanami’s neck, his fingers nestling in the soft undercut of Nanami’s hair.
A soft, breathy sound escaped Nanami’s mouth, and Gojo’s tongue slid between his lips, stroking encouragingly over Nanami’s. Nanami’s body arched ever so slightly, and Gojo leaned into him. Nanami felt his back press against the wall as Gojo’s weight settled against him. Gojo was all heat and motion and delicious friction. Nanami’s eyes fluttered closed as Gojo continued to stroke into his mouth, heat beginning to pool at his core.
Then Gojo’s tongue was gone. His mouth moved lower where his lips feathered kisses and his teeth nipped along Nanami’s jaw. He listened as Nanami took a raggedly audible breath as his body arched once more against Gojo’s. Gojo rolled his hips, letting Nanami feel how hard he already was, and was rewarded with a gentle moan. He let his mouth trail lower, his tongue wandering over the skin of Nanami’s throat.
“I need this back,” Gojo whispered, his breath warm against Nanami’s neck.
Nanami’s eyes refocused at Gojo’s words. He felt Gojo’s fingers slowly loosen from his own, releasing their conjoined hands. Then Gojo’s hands were on him, coasting over his chest and under the lapels of his suit jacket.
“This comes off,” Gojo demanded, his hands sliding up over Nanami’s shoulders and pushing the jacket down his arms.
When Nanami had been freed of the jacket, Gojo tossed it unceremoniously over his shoulder, letting it pool on the floor in a heap. Nanami began to straighten up in response, but Gojo let his body fall heavily against him pushing them both back against the wall.
“I’ll pay to have it cleaned and pressed,” Gojo said, his voice rough with desire.
His lips and tongue returned their attention to Nanami’s neck, while his hips began to move in slow, undulating circles against Nanami’s. He felt Nanami shudder and relax his body back against the wall. Gojo’s fingers found the knot of Nanami’s tie and pulled it loose easily. When they were both thinking more clearly, he would have to ask Nanami how he had perfected a knot that looked so crisp but released so effortlessly. He tossed the yellow printed silk behind him as well.
“Your sword,” Gojo mouthed against Nanami’s throat.
He didn’t think Nanami would tolerate him treating his preferred weapon as casually as his suit. He pulled back reluctantly, allowing Nanami space to maneuver. Gojo’s fingers twitched impatiently as he watched Nanami casually unfasten the harness from each side of his belt. His breath hitched as Nanami rolled his shoulders back, sliding the straps down his arms and straining the buttons of his shirt across his muscled chest. When Nanami stepped toward the foyer, Gojo had to stop himself from immediately pulling him back into his arms. He watched Nanami place the blade and harness next to their shoes, which each had abandoned at the entryway out of habit.
As Nanami straightened, Gojo’s hand wrapped around his upper arm and pulled him back, desperate to touch him again. Nanami, caught off-guard, stumbled into Gojo, whose lips crushed against his once more. He did his best to angle Nanami back against the wall gradually, letting his body slide over the hard plains of Nanami’s chest and thighs.
Gojo let his fingers roam over the luxurious fabric of Nanami’s dress shirt, a brushed satin he thought, tracing the hard muscles underneath. He teasingly worked each button free slowly, letting his hands touch the skin beneath. His mouth worked lower as more and more flesh was exposed. A thrill went through him as Nanami moaned low and soft, his hips bucking against Gojo’s. Gojo could feel his hardening length and echoed his own moan against the seam of Nanami’s neck and shoulder.
Finally, the last button released and Gojo pulled the shirt tails from Nanami’s trousers. He worked the shirt over Nanami’s shoulders and down his arms, no mere feat considering the broadness of his back and the cords of muscle down his arms. Gojo flung the shirt toward the growing pile on the floor. He heard Nanami make a disapproving noise in his throat.
“Kento, I will buy you an entire closet of suits,” Gojo growled into his neck, “if you just let me take your goddamn clothes off!”
Nanami stiffened at this declaration, and Gojo paused, wondering if perhaps he had gone too far. Then he felt Nanami’s gentle laugh against his ear. He straightened to see Nanami’s face.
“I might just hold you to that,” Nanami chuckled.
Gojo just stared at the crinkle by Nanami’s eyes and the slight upturn at the corners of his mouth. He had always thought of it as Nanami’s ghost smile, a phantom that you could never be sure if you really saw. Years of hardship fell away from his face when he smiled, and Gojo couldn’t stop staring.
Nanami’s smile fell, and he looked away, unable to match Gojo’s level of attention.
“What’s wrong?” He asked a bit self-consciously.
“Nothing’s wrong,” Gojo assured him with a voice just shy of awestruck. “You make my heart skip when you smile. You’re so beautiful. Always.”
Gojo’s hands cupped Nanami’s face reverently, tilting it back toward his own. Then he kissed him, long and slow. Nanami’s hands found his waist, his fingers digging in as the kiss deepened. Over and over they kissed until they were both breathless. Gojo rested his forehead against Nanami’s, panting slightly.
“I want to make you come undone,” he admitted quietly, his thumbs ghosting over Nanami’s cheeks.
That quiet chuckle again.
“You can certainly try,” Nanami whispered as a small shudder rolled through him.
Gojo smiled wide and pulled back. “Challenge accepted.”
His gaze roamed hungrily over Nanami’s now naked torso. Almost immediately his smile evaporated and a crease formed between his brows. His fingers reached out, tracing along some of the dozens of white scars across Nanami’s chest and arms - some obviously sets from claws, long jagged lines perhaps from cursed weapons, dozens of small ones that could probably easily be explained away if not for the sheer number of them.
“Are these from curses?”
“I’m a close quarters sorcerer,” Nanami said by way of explanation.
Gojo flicked his gaze up to Nanami’s but said nothing.
“My Ratio Techniques most often require me to physically touch what I want to be affected by them. There are,” Nanami tilted his head, searching for a diplomatic clarification, “complications that arise from such proximity.”
Gojo ran his fingers over a particularly wide scar at the joint of Nanami’s shoulder.
“How badly are you wounded that Shoko can’t heal your wounds without scarring?”
“I don’t seek Shoko-san’s care after every mission.”
“That’s why she’s here,” Gojo’s voice was tight.
“Do you see her for every injury you receive on a mission?” Nanami countered.
“I can use Reverse Curse Technique!”
“And I can shop at a drugstore.”
“Nanami -“
“We don’t know if Shoko’s powers are finite.” Nanami took a long, slow breath. “I won’t be the reason a sorcerer dies again.”
Gojo nodded solemnly. He knew Nanami still carried survivor’s guilt from their time as students. They both did. He would let this go for now, but he was definitely going to unleash Shoko on him in the very near future.
“Why is this one so much larger than the others?” Gojo’s fingers lingered on the scar at his shoulder.
“Ah,” Nanami’s cheeks flushed slightly, “I probably should have seen Shoko-san for that.”
Gojo let his eyebrows raise in a silent question.
“It happened on my first solo mission back. I didn’t want to seem incapable of handling myself after being away so long. I couldn’t use that arm properly for about a week.”
Gojo leaned forward, pressing his lips to the scar. Once. Twice. Then he let his tongue flick over the pale marking. Nanami shuddered, and the discussion was abandoned.
“Thought you could distract me, did you?” Gojo let his lips coast down from Nanami’s shoulder and over his pectoral.
“It’s - ah! - “ Nanami’s body jerked as Gojo’s tongue swirled over his nipple, “not really that hard.”
His head dropped back against the wall as his body arched against Gojo’s hungry mouth. Gojo lavished him with delicious torture as his tongue, lips, and teeth teased one nipple while his fingers stroked over the other. The heat that had started building before ratcheted up, pushing him ever closer to climax.
Gojo’s free hand slid between them, down to the tented front of Nanami’s trousers. He palmed Nanami’s hardening length, reveling in the thrust of Nanami’s hips at the wanted friction.
“Geez, Nanami, you didn’t skip any muscles when you decided to get buff,” Gojo marveled, continuing to rub his hand against Nanami’s cock.
“Satoru . . .,” Nanami’s voice sounded wrecked.
A shiver raced down Gojo’s spine at his name tearing from Nanami’s mouth. He straightened, his mouth slanting over the small pants and sounds of pleasure slipping from Nanami’s lips. The firm length of Nanami’s cock in his hand was exquisite, and Gojo wanted nothing more than to strip away the final articles of clothing.
Nanami gripped his jacket tight in both fists, as his mouth broke free gasping for breath. “Take this off! I need to feel you.”
Gojo hesitated, not wanting to take his own hands from Nanami, but more than willing to be free of the constraints of his own clothing. He finally relented, stripping his own jacket off and letting it drop carelessly to the floor.
“Come with me.” Gojo’s voice sounded raspy with a hungry edge.
He grabbed Nanami’s hand and drew him away from the wall. He led him across the room, almost tripping over the piles of clothing in his haste. Behind the screen was a bed, not as spacious as what he had in his own home but larger than the singles provided to the students. It would do. He didn’t need anything more than Nanami. He would take him anywhere - against a tree, in a car, down a dark alley. Anywhere Nanami would allow it.
Gojo pulled Nanami to him, letting his tongue slide into his mouth with almost unrestrained hunger. His hands stilled at Nanami’s belt as he broke the kiss. Their foreheads rested against one another as their panting breaths mixed.
“Kento,” Gojo whispered desperately, “I need to taste you.”
Nanami’s breath stuttered at the admission and another shiver raced through him. His hands gripped Gojo’s upper arms, steadying himself.
“I . . .,” Nanami swallowed thickly, his voice low and deep, “I want your mouth on me.”
With permission granted, Gojo began loosening Nanami’s belt, pulling it smoothly through the loops of his pants and tossing it to the floor. He guided Nanami backwards until the back of his knees bumped the mattress. Placing a hand on Nanami’s chest, he slowly ushered him down onto the bed. He placed a knee between Nanami’s legs, causing him to shift back so Gojo could climb onto the mattress as well, his body hovering over him.
Gojo’s fingers trailed down Nanami’s chest and abdomen, snagging on the waistband of his pants. He undid the button easily, and Nanami’s stomach fluttered under his touch. He gripped the zipper and began to pull it slowly down, watching the pupils of Nanami’s eyes swallow all color as his desire spiked. Nanami lifted his hips as Gojo pulled the trousers down and off, making a show of crumpling them and tossing them across the room. Nanami’s brow furrowed in a moment of irritation.
“Relax . . .,” Gojo drew out the word as his hand drifted over the front of Nanami’s boxer briefs.
Nanami’s eyes rolled back and closed as his head fell heavily to the mattress. His hips arched into Gojo’s hand, desperate for his touch. The fabric of Nanami’s underwear was stretched tight against his impressive length, and Gojo licked his lips in anticipation. Nanami was even larger than he had fantasized, and the growing wet spot around the head, confirming Nanami’s need, was almost enough to snap Gojo’s waning composure.
Gojo rubbed his hands together in a show of anticipation, more for his own benefit than for Nanami’s. As he reached for Nanami’s waistband, he noticed a slight tremor in his fingers. He was nervous, like a horny teenager. He smiled.
He had been fascinated with Nanami as a student, completely different from anyone he had met and unaffected by titles and grandeur. But Gojo had been quite the shit back then (not just pretending to be), and his mind, heart, and ego had never let him truly appreciate Nanami. Now, as the only two active sorcerers from that time, experiencing all they had together, they were connected in a way that transcended colleagues. If they could open their hearts and let each other in, they could temper and mold each other into an unstoppable force. They could push Jujutsu Society in a new direction as long as they were together.
Gojo seized the elastic waistband and pulled it out and down, finally releasing Nanami’s length from its constraints. He hissed through his teeth as he watched Nanami’s cock rise up in all its erect glory.
“You really didn’t skip dick day,” Gojo whispered reverently.
“Are you just going to look or are you going to do something about it?” Nanami growled.
“Oh, I’m definitely going to do something about it.”
Gojo leaned down, letting his hands slide over the defined muscles of Nanami’s thighs. His fingers sunk in, massaging deep. Nanami moaned, his legs opening wide under Gojo’s touch. Gojo added feathery kisses, gentle nips, and soothing licks along the inside of Nanami’s thighs. A low tremor began to work its way through Nanami’s body as the teasing continued.
“Satoru, please,” Nanami begged, writhing under Gojo’s ministrations.
Gojo was more than willing to oblige. He wrapped his fingers around the base of Nanami’s cock, smiling at the guttural moan that tore from Nanami’s throat. His tongue flicked out, licking along the seam and then swirling around the head. He hummed approvingly as he lapped at the salty pre-cum.
Gojo’s lips parted, sliding the head of Nanami’s cock into his mouth. His tongue lavished over it until a soft mewling sound fell from Nanami’s lips. Only then did he take him deeper, hollowing his cheeks and letting his length push slowly into his mouth. He felt Nanami’s hand slide into his hair, fingers twisting into the strands. He let his tongue slide down and flatten along the underside of Nanami’s cock, feeling the thick veins that stood out in stark relief.
Nanami’s hips moved desperately but never demanded more than Gojo was willing to give. He would never take what wasn’t freely given. A small part of him held his desire in check despite an almost overwhelming impulse to buck his hips and drive deep into Gojo’s throat. He let his fingers tighten in Gojo’s hair, grounding himself to the moment.
Gojo relaxed his throat, taking Nanami deeper still. His lips met his own hand, but he knew he was at his limit. His tongue stroked long and slow until Nanami’s panting was all he could hear. Then he began to move, sliding back until only the head of Nanami’s cock remained in his mouth. Forward and back, moving along at a steady rhythm, saliva pooling at the corners of his mouth as he sucked and stroked. His hand at Nanami’s base fondled what he was unable to take.
Nanami punctuated each stroke with a sound of pleasure that tore from him unbidden. His free hand clenched and unclenched the bedsheets as he struggled to keep control. The muscles of his core tightened, pushing him toward orgasm. He felt Gojo’s free hand slide across his thigh and between his legs, caressing his scrotum until the skin pulled taut. He writhed as Gojo’s hand slipped lower still, stroking the area between his balls and opening. Nanami couldn’t quite control the buck of his hips as Gojo’s finger teased the trembling muscles.
Gojo processed every sound of pleasure and every uncontrolled tremble from Nanami. It was almost enough to make him come. His own erection strained painfully against the constraints of his pants. He knew Nanami was close though. He could feel the throb of his cock against his tongue, and he was determined to watch Nanami come apart when he brought him to orgasm.
He pushed his finger against Nanami’s tight opening. Lube would have been a good idea, but who would have known the day would bring them both here. It didn’t matter though. He was resourceful. His other hand was coated with a mixture of saliva and pre-cum, a mess created from his diligent work along Nanami’s cock. He switched his hand positions easily, naturally ambidextrous because he was good at anything he could study. Gojo pushed two of his slick fingers past the tight ring of muscles. He should probably have stretched Nanami slowly, but he wanted to see if that surprise might just push him over the edge.
“Satoru! Hah! Oh god . . .” Nanami’s voice was raspy from panting.
Increasing the speed of his mouth stroking over Nanami’s cock was Gojo’s only response. He let his fingers slide deeper, massaging the inside walls and seeking the bundle of nerves near the prostate. He reveled in the feel of Nanami’s body trembling around him. He liked the way Nanami’s fingers were twisted too tight in his hair, the pain mixing with his own pleasure and driving him toward his own release.
“Wait!” Nanami pleaded, trying to pull himself back and away from Gojo’s mouth and hands.
Gojo raised his eyes questioningly to Nanami’s but did not release him.
“Satoru, wait . . .,” Nanami panted. “I’m - I’m so close. I don’t - do you -”
He couldn’t quite finish his thought, but Gojo thought he understood. Nanami was so considerate, not wanting to force any part of his own pleasure on others. It didn’t matter. Gojo wanted every bit of it. Every noise. Every thrust. Every drop.
Gojo let all the heat and hunger he felt shine bright in his eyes. Then he relaxed his throat, sliding down along Nanami’s length, taking him deeper than he had before. He watched Nanami’s back arch in response and redoubled his efforts, pushing Nanami ever closer to climax.
It didn’t take long. Nanami’s back arched and held. His mouth opened but only silence escaped, his breath stolen as he teetered and finally fell over the edge of his own orgasm. For a moment, only the soft wet sounds of Gojo’s mouth and fingers filled the room. Then Nanami released a stream of pants and moans as the waves of his climax crashed over him.
Gojo felt Nanami’s cock pulse and then hot cum filled his mouth. He pumped his fingers into Nanami, ramping up the orgasm. Swallowing greedily as Nanami continued to come, Gojo sucked and stroked along his length, wringing every bit of pleasure from him.
“Enough,” Nanami breathed as he relaxed back into the mattress, “please . . ., Satoru, I can’t . . .”
Nanami swatted weakly at Gojo, forcing him to finally end his ministrations.
Gojo smiled wide, overly satisfied with himself, and settled on the bed next to Nanami. He drew lazy circles over Nanami’s chest with his fingers, enjoying how he trembled at the contact.
“You’re a menace,” Nanami stated as his ragged breathing slowed.
Gojo laughed. “I’m pretty sure you enjoyed every bit of that.”
Nanami turned his head to look up at Gojo with those soft hazel eyes. “I stand by what I said.”
Gojo leaned over and kissed him gently. “I love you,” he said simply.
Nanami’s brows drew together in concern. “I . . .”
“Shhh . . .,” Gojo kissed him again. “You don’t have to say it. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. I didn’t know how much I cared, how much I missed you, needed you, until you returned. I just wanted you to know.”
Nanami’s face softened and the corners of his mouth curved up in the ghost smile that Gojo so adored. He couldn’t say it. Not now. He didn’t know if he ever could no matter his feelings. That was a vulnerability that Nanami wasn’t sure he was ready to accept.
“I really have to compliment the work you put into your body, Nanami,” Gojo smarmed, switching quickly from the tenderness of the moment, as his eyes roved over Nanami’s still naked form. “Five stars. Really great . . . you’re . . . you’re still hard.”
“Ah,” Nanami pushed himself up onto an elbow as he spoke, “that’s a problem of my own making. It will likely resolve itself in a bit.”
“No, no, you don’t get to just gloss over that!” Gojo was animated now. “What does that mean? ‘A problem of your own making?’”
Nanami sighed. “When I infused my muscles with cursed energy to strengthen my body, I didn’t exactly know how to exclude certain muscles.”
“Oh. My. God. You legitimately didn’t skip dick day!” Gojo fell back onto the bed, dissolving into a fit of laughter.
Faster than he would have imagined, Nanami’s body settled over him. Gojo’s body was pressed firmly to the mattress as Nanami allowed his weight to sink down. Gojo sobered immediately, his eyes going wide with surprise.
“I just thought of a better way to resolve my problem,” Nanami’s voice was low and hungry, “and it comes with the added bonus of shutting you up.”
Nanami’s mouth pressed over Gojo’s, silencing any further conversation. He pulled back after just a moment and considered Gojo carefully. Gojo opened his mouth to speak.
“No more talking,” Nanami commanded softly.
Gojo’s mouth snapped closed with an audible click of his teeth.
“I’m going to take your clothes off now,” Nanami stated in a hushed voice, “and then I’m going to fuck you.”
A moan slipped from Gojo’s lips, and his body moved suggestively under Nanami.
Nanami straightened and slid down until he was straddling Gojo’s thighs. He helped Gojo to a sitting position and easily pulled the t-shirt he had been wearing under his jacket over his head. That ghost smile reappeared and his eyes glinted mischievously before Nanami balled the material in his fist and tossed it casually over his shoulder.
Gojo chuckled and tried to pull Nanami back into his arms.
“Not yet,” Nanami said, lifting his hand to Gojo’s face and caressing his cheek. “I want you to do something for me.”
Gojo turned his face into Nanami’s touch. He felt Nanami’s palm smooth over his cheek and thumb slide along his bottom lip. A touch so intimately gentle he thought he would only ever be able to dream it. His heart was alight with the fact that Nanami wanted him too. Nanami’s hand slid down his throat, tugging delicately at the blindfold around Gojo’s neck. Gojo’s eyes met his with a silent question.
“I don’t want you to have any distractions,” Nanami explained. “You only need to focus on what I’m doing to you.”
Gojo shivered at Nanami’s words. There was no true way to shut out the world with The Six Eyes, but he had learned to adapt long ago. Nanami may not be able to express his feelings to him but wanted to show him. Gojo understood that Nanami wanted him to experience their time together with minimal distractions. Gojo nodded his permission, hoping the world would shrink to just the two of them.
Nanami’s hands gripped the blindfold and settled it carefully back over Gojo’s eyes. The constant bombardment of information dimmed, and Gojo felt himself relax. Nanami’s hand settled on his chest and pushed him smoothly back onto the mattress. Gojo obeyed willingly. Nanami’s hands then moved to the waistband of Gojo’s pants and began to undo the button and zipper. Nanami frowned as he struggled to slip the tight pants down over Gojo’s hips.
“Why do you even wear these ridiculous pants?” Nanami grumbled.
“You’re just jealous that you couldn’t get them over those Redwoods you call thighs.”
“I can’t even get them over your thighs.” Nanami pointed out, giving an aggressive tug on the fabric.
With a significant amount of wriggling from both parties, Gojo was finally able to pull his legs from the fabric. Nanami held the pants up and gave them a look of disdain.
“Are these the same pants you wore when we were students?”
“What?” Gojo said, affronted. “They’re timeless, and they look great on me!”
“They’re going to make you sterile,” Nanami cautioned, tossing the pants aside.
“I’m not sure that’s as big a concern for me as you think,” Gojo laughed as Nanami lowered himself back over his body.
“I thought I told you to stop talking,” Nanami stated in a low voice as he slanted his lips over Gojo’s once more.
With their roles somewhat reversed, Gojo was anxious for his own release. He tried desperately to rub his body against Nanami’s, but Nanami was having none of it, controlling the speed of their interaction with the press of his own body. He kissed Nanami hungrily, trying to convey his desperation. His hands roved possessively over Nanami’s back, shoulders, and arms, feeling the muscles bunch and release as Nanami moved. Nanami pulled back, breaking the kiss, just enough to grasp Gojo’s arms and pin them to the mattress above his head.
“Kento,” Gojo’s voice came out as breathy with a hint of a plea to it, “I want to touch you.”
Nanami leaned close, his lips brushing against Gojo’s ear. “You had your turn.”
Gojo’s body tried hopelessly to buck up against Nanami’s.
“Sadist,” Gojo whined.
Nanami ignored Gojo’s attempts to hurry things along.
“Satoru, let someone take care of you for once.” Nanami’s lips slipped lower, brushing the sensitive area just below the ear.
Gojo’s breath caught, but, whether from Nanami’s actions or his words, he couldn’t be sure. He should have known Nanami would see through that too. The way he pretended to gallivant around with no responsibilities while accepting as many missions as possible to protect other sorcerers and training students so they won’t lose their lives battling curses. His mask might prevent him from operating openly as a protector like Nanami, but he did often feel the weight of being dubbed “the strongest.”
It felt strange to relinquish some of that constant need for control, but he was with Nanami, one of only two people he truly trusted. The two of them, along with Shoko, were so intrinsically intertwined by their knowledge - of the past, of trauma that would have broken anyone else - they could never truly be separated from one another. They had to continue on no matter the obstacle because that was what was required. And now, here he and Nanami were, adding another layer to the ties that bound them.
Gojo let himself truly relax into the mattress and to focus solely on Nanami and what he was doing to him. Every kiss was like a whispered promise. Every touch wrapped him in Nanami’s protection. He was so hungry for every moment, feasting on all that Nanami would give him.
Nanami let his lips trail lower on Gojo’s neck, little nips and strokes of his tongue punctuated his progress along the muscle leading down to the clavicle. He let his fingers lace with Gojo’s; he wasn’t trapping him, he was grounding him in the moment. Nanami felt Gojo’s fingers tighten as he laved attention on the seam between his neck and shoulder.
Gojo moaned, wanting desperately to rub his body against Nanami’s. Feeling his mouth and hands was heaven, but he wanted the friction now. He wanted Nanami inside him like he had promised.
“More, Kento, please,” Gojo breathed.
Nanami’s breath coasted over his skin in a brief chuckle. “No.”
Gojo bucked his hips to no avail. “I need you inside me.”
Nanami’s fingers tightened on Gojo’s as a low moan issued at those words. Then his body moved lower, setting Gojo’s muscles trembling with anticipation. Nanami was nothing if not disciplined. He only moved his body as far as he needed to continue his mouth’s slow progression over Gojo’s skin.
A whine slipped from Gojo’s mouth. He was so hard, and this moment was so intense. He wasn’t sure he could hold out, pleasuring Nanami and now him wanting to reciprocate. Gojo bit his lip as he felt tension building at his core.
“Wait for me,” Nanami whispered against his skin.
“Kento, I . . .” Gojo lifted his head and looked at Nanami splayed across his body. “I don’t know if I can.”
Nanami raised his head and met Gojo’s gaze. His hair was playfully mussed, falling over his forehead and into his eyes. Those eyes . . . molten pools, devoid of color, possessing only hunger and desire.
“I thought you were the strongest,” Nanami reminded him in a low voice.
Nanami didn’t wait for an answer. He lowered his head and stroked his tongue over Gojo’s nipple. And then again. Swirling his tongue over it a third time, he drew the hardened peak between his lips and sucked gently.
Gojo cried out, almost succumbing to his own orgasm. He couldn’t though. Nanami had called him out, and he had to endure the waves of pleasure for as long as he could. He panted hard, his body writhing against Nanami as best he could.
Nanami untangled his hands from Gojo’s unyielding grasp and slid them down his arms. Just the faintest touch from his fingertips. He saw the goosebumps rise across Gojo’s skin and continued his progression down. He let his fingers trail teasingly over the neglected nipple. He heard Gojo swear, and he smiled as he finally released the nipple he had been lavishing with a fleeting stroke of his tongue.
Gojo felt Nanami shift and opened his eyes, which had drifted closed from the delicious torture of Nanami’s tongue. His breath caught as Nanami rose over him like some god of old chiseled from sandalwood. Gojo had never been religious, but he definitely wanted to pray at Nanami's altar.
Nanami stared down at Gojo’s body, splayed on the mattress beneath him. It wouldn’t be wrong to say he was a natural beauty, but it also wouldn’t do justice to the almost ethereal perfection that radiated from this powerhouse sorcerer. Gojo’s body wasn’t as broad as his own, but it was no less toned and well muscled. He was lithe and defined, like an artist’s sketch of the ideal form.
Nanami’s hands slid down Gojo’s abdomen slowly, tracing the lines of each muscle. He let his fingers slide beneath the waistband of Gojo’s bikini briefs, a ridiculous low-rise affair adored with blue and black tiger stripes. He shook his head, but, for a change, he felt no admonishment, only affection. He heard Gojo’s breath stutter as he relieved him of his final piece of clothing. Nanami let his hand caress over Gojo’s impressive endowment. He wasn’t sure why Gojo had made such a show of his own size, when he wasn’t at all lacking.
“Kento, I -” Gojo’s voice broke off suddenly in a cry as he climaxed.
Nanami’s hand tightened quickly around Gojo’s pulsing cock and stroked him through the swell of the orgasm.
“Sorry,” Gojo slurred as he began to come back down, sprawling bonelessly on the bed.
Gojo felt the mattress sink and then spring back into place as Nanami got off the bed. He struggled to regain some control over his body. He sat up and watched Nanami walking toward the room’s entrance with growing concern.
“Nanami . . . I - I didn’t mean to come. I tried to hold on. Please don’t go.” Gojo’s voice sounded small.
Nanami bent to pick his jacket up off the floor, twisting it to find the inner pocket. He removed his wallet and opened it to the billfold. He pulled a condom from inside and held it up to show Gojo.
“I didn’t say I was done with you yet.” Nanami’s voice was deeper than usual.
Gojo swallowed hard and shivered at the implication. He shouldn’t have been so worried that Nanami would abandon him, but somehow in his raw, exposed state those fears had bubbled up to the surface when he hadn’t been able to hold on like Nanami had asked. He supposed things like that might happen if he was going to let Nanami see behind the mask.
Nanami returned to the bed, crawling back onto the mattress beside Gojo. He took Gojo’s face in his hands and kissed him, long and deep. When he pulled back, his ghost smile was firmly in place, giving Gojo all the assurance he needed.
Gojo returned a sly grin. “Did you just take a condom out of your wallet?”
“Preparation is the key to everything, Gojo-san,” Nanami replied with all seriousness.
“Were you prepared for me?”
“Not today,” the corners of Nanami’s mouth curled up again, “and not at first, but I think I can read you pretty well now.”
“Oh?” Gojo waggled his eyebrows above his blindfold. “What are you reading right now?”
“Let me show you.”
Nanami cradled Gojo’s face again and kissed him. His lips pressed and moved while his tongue teased along Gojo’s bottom lip. He let his hands move, roving over Gojo’s body; his fingers alternating between featherlight touches and deep probing massages.
Gojo’s mouth opened in a pant, letting Nanami’s tongue slide inside. Heat was pooling in his core again, and he felt himself hardening against the press of Nanami’s stomach. He gripped Nanami’s upper arms, his anchor point in this moment.
Nanami angled forward, returning their bodies to the mattress. He let his hips rut along Gojo’s, their cocks hardening once more from the friction. His tongue pushed possessively into Gojo’s mouth to the same rhythm as his hips. He slipped his hand into Gojo’s hair, cupping the back of his head; while his other hand intertwined with Gojo’s fingers.
Gojo broke the kiss with a gasp. All he could feel, all he could sense, was Nanami. A thought flitted through his head. Nanami had prepped him for this overwhelming assault of passion. He had known to use the blindfold. Gojo smiled; Nanami was always prepared.
Nanami nipped his throat, snapping him back to the present, and Gojo arched into Nanami’s thrust with surprise. Nanami let his hips slow and slid off Gojo, tucking himself against his side. His leg dragged behind, hooking over Gojo’s thigh and pulling his legs open.
Gojo whimpered, his hips thrusting into empty air. He felt Nanami’s hand slip from his and coast over his torso. The hand at the back of his head angled him toward Nanami, who kissed him again with bruising force. Nanami’s hand drifted lower, fondling Gojo’s balls and stroking the area between them and his opening.
“Oh, yes, Kento!” Gojo panted against his lips, attempting to thrust himself against Nanami’s hand. “I want you inside me. I can’t wait anymore!”
“I guess you’re going to be disappointed then.”
“What?” Gojo exclaimed breathlessly.
“You’re not ready,” Nanami explained between his kisses.
An overt whine slipped from Gojo’s mouth, his hands groping for Nanami. He felt Nanami pull back ever so subtly, removing his hand from between Gojo’s legs. Gojo watched transfixed as Nanami raised the hand to his own mouth, slowly pressing a finger between his lips. Jealousy and imagination ran wild for just a moment because he knew Nanami’s tongue was swirling against his own finger.
Nanami gave him the briefest smirk before removing his finger from his mouth. He watched Gojo’s mouth fall open, blatant desire on his face. Nanami slid his hand between Gojo’s legs. He smoothed his slick finger against Gojo’s opening, pressing deep in one continuous motion.
Gojo arched and cried out as Nanami’s finger hit the bundle of nerves. He felt Nanami draw his finger over and over the spot. He was panting and writhing, bearing down on Nanami’s hand desperately.
“Ken - ah! - I . . .”
Nanami drew Gojo’s mouth to his, cutting off his cries of pleasure. He began to move his hand slowly, pumping his finger deep. He let his tongue roll against Gojo’s with the same rhythm. When he pressed a second finger deep, Gojo cried out again, breaking the kiss.
Gojo felt lost and not in a cacophony of information. There was only touch and heat and desire, and he was drowning in it. He moaned and writhed as Nanami stoked the fire at his core. He was going to come again, and all because of Nanami’s fingers. He buried his face in Nanami’s neck, panting and mumbling unintelligible words.
“Satoru . . .,” Nanami’s voice pierced the haze of pleasure, “I’m so hard for you. Are you ready?”
Gojo swallowed thickly. “I need you now, Kento!”
Then Nanami’s fingers were gone. Gojo whimpered again at their absence.
Nanami moved onto his knees, repositioning himself between Gojo’s legs. His fingers pressed into Gojo’s thighs as he angled his hips over his own knees.
Gojo was still panting, his body trembling as he teetered on the edge of an orgasm. Every touch from Nanami sent heat straight to his core. He heard the tear of the condom package and focused enough to watch Nanami roll the rubber down over his sizable length. Gojo’s mouth was suddenly dry. He felt the head of Nanami’s cock press against his opening.
Nanami’s fingers dug into Gojo’s hips, likely branding him with bruises. He pulled Gojo up onto his thighs as he entered him, letting his own hips sink until he was buried fully inside. Nanami groaned, Gojo so tight around him.
Gojo’s back arched and his mouth opened in a silent “O.” He had wanted this, but he hadn’t known what it would feel like to have Nanami buried deep inside him. The pleasure and pain, the intimacy, was overwhelming. He was breathing too fast. The trembling increased, becoming uncontrollable. It was all too much. He was losing himself in the sensory overload.
“Shhh, Satoru, I’m here.” Nanami’s voice, gentle and steady, in his ear. “I would never hurt you.”
Air filled his lungs in one deep breath. The words he had spoken earlier to Nanami said back to him, drawing him back from the edge. Nanami’s hand cupped his face, his thumb smoothing over his cheek. Gojo turned his face toward him.
Nanami was so near, the heat from his body warming his partner and easing his trembling. He was so still, staring at Gojo with soft, reassuring eyes.
“We can stop,” Nanami proposed tenderly.
Gojo stared at Nanami. The man he trusted most in this world. His Nanami. His hands found Nanami’s face, his fingers smoothing over the sharp angular plains.
“I want you,” Gojo repeated almost automatically.
“Satoru . . .”
“I was . . . surprised.” A faint blush rose in Gojo’s cheeks. “But you feel so good.”
Gojo wasn’t lying. Nanami was still buried fully inside him. The pain of penetration had faded, and there was only the fullness of his cock and the gentle press of the head against the bundle of nerves that alighted his brain with pleasure. He wanted to feel Nanami move, to have him stroke that spot over and over.
Nanami studied his face. “Are you sure?”
“Please, Kento, I need to feel you move.”
A shiver of pleasure raced down Nanami’s spine. He sat up slightly, giving himself room to maneuver. His fingers caressed Gojo’s cheek once more.
Gojo smiled at him. He loved this gentle, protective man. He felt the fingers of one of Nanami’s hands lace between his own, squeezing tenderly.
“I’m right here,” Nanami promised, anchoring Gojo to him.
Then he began to move, slowly drawing himself back so only the head of his cock remained inside. Nanami paused a moment before pressing deep, studying Gojo carefully.
Gojo’s breath hitched as Nanami withdrew, and he tightened his fingers as heat spread through him once more with the measured way Nanami thrust himself back inside.
Nanami moved unhurried now, each thrust deliberate and punctuated with a twist of his hips. He listened to Gojo’s soft moans of pleasure with every stroke and strike. This was the experience he wanted Gojo to have. Nanami wanted to build the sensations slowly. This wasn’t a race, and Nanami never wanted Gojo to feel overwhelmed or unsafe with him.
Slowly, Gojo’s moans shifted to a more desperate sound. His legs began to tremble as pleasure coiled at his core. His free hand bunched the bedsheets over and over between his fingers. He was back at the edge, and it felt even better this time.
Nanami clocked each uptick in Gojo’s arousal. He knew Gojo was close, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold out himself. He let the fingers of his free hand curl around Gojo’s erection, stroking to the same rhythm as his hips.
Gojo’s back arched; his breath drawn in a hiss. He felt Nanami lean down close, saw the shine of sweat across his brow and sliding down his chest as Nanami held his own release in check.
“Ken- hah!” Gojo gasped, teetering on the edge once more.
Nanami brought his lips close to Gojo’s ear. He let them brush against the shell gently.
“It’s time, Satoru. Come for me.”
Gojo’s hand slid up behind Nanami’s neck, pulling him closer. On the next thrust, he felt the shift, the spring coiling inside him snapped. Gojo cried out as wave after wave of pleasure washed over him.
Nanami’s thrusts sped up as he coaxed Gojo through his orgasm. He felt Gojo’s walls tighten around him, and the rhythm of his hips began to stutter as he reached his own peak. Then Nanami was following him with his own climax, burying his face into Gojo’s neck with his quiet exclamations of release.
They panted into the sudden silence of the room. Their bodies remaining intertwined as one. Their fingers still clutching each others’ tightly, a promise that neither would be alone again.
When their breathing had normalized and their bodies had cooled, Nanami stirred, parting from Gojo reluctantly. He felt Gojo’s hands reach for him, urging him to return.
“I’m going to clean up. Stay here; I’ll be right back.” Nanami assured him.
Gojo watched Nanami cross the room, closing the door to the bathroom almost completely before flicking on the light. The sliver of light pierced the shadows of the room, and Gojo was vaguely aware of how much time had passed. He felt exhausted in a way that he rarely allowed himself. With his mask removed, he couldn’t pretend that the long hours and multiple exorcisms didn’t wear on him. There was a fuzziness in his mind, the constant bombardment of information a dull hum for once. His limbs felt leaden and overused. His body sunk heavily into the mattress.
“Satoru,” Nanami’s voice was very near.
Gojo jerked, realizing that he had drifted to sleep in Nanami’s brief absence. He gave his fellow sorcerer a tired smile.
“I’m going to clean you up,” Nanami explained, returning Gojo’s smile with his own.
He swiped a warm cloth across Gojo’s abdomen and over and between his thighs. When he felt satisfied, Nanami maneuvered the covers out from under Gojo. He settled the blankets over him and turned back toward the bathroom.
“Stay with me,” Gojo said in a quiet voice.
Nanami hesitated. It was late, and he would much prefer to sleep in his own bed. He looked back at Gojo, his shock of white hair wild against the pillow. He sighed. He had another suit in a locker on campus in case the one he wore to an exorcism was damaged. It wouldn’t be unheard of for him to stay in one of the faculty dorms due to working overtime. Anyone noticing him on the grounds early tomorrow would assume just that.
“I’ll stay,” he promised as he disappeared back into the bathroom for a moment.
Nanami returned to the too small bed for two men of their stature and slid beneath the covers. He held his arm out as Gojo drifted toward him.
Gojo curled against him, tucking himself into Nanami’s side and presenting as much smaller than his 6’3” frame. His head settled on Nanami’s chest, pressing an ear over the steady metronome of his heart. His thigh slipped over Nanami’s in a possessive way while Gojo’s arm encircled his waist. He liked the way that Nanami’s hand settled on his head, fingers tugging gently at the strands of his hair.
“Was the discussion you wanted to have always a ruse to get me alone?” Nanami asked quietly.
“Hm? No, of course not,” Gojo’s words slurred slightly as he struggled to stay awake and answer Nanami’s question. “I can’t be expected to overthrow the Jujutsu hierarchy all on my own.”
Nanami’s fingers stilled against Gojo’s hair. “Overthrow . . .”
“Mm-hmm,” Gojo mumbled as he nestled closer to Nanami.
Nanami could feel the heaviness of Gojo’s body as sleep settled over him, Gojo’s breathing becoming deep and even. The warmth that radiated into his side from the press of Gojo’s skin relaxed his tired muscles. It wouldn’t be long before sleep dragged him under as well. It was fine; they would have time to talk about all this later. It wasn’t like he was going anywhere.
Juju Stroll
Nanami opened the door to his apartment only to be greeted by the crashing of things in his kitchen. He was no longer surprised by such calamity in what used to be his sanctuary. He closed the door, slipped off his shoes, placing them in their designated cubby, and picked up the familiar black ones haphazardly kicked off in the entryway, sliding them into a cubby as well. He put on his new slippers (as his old ones had been stolen long ago) and padded quietly across the apartment.
“I thought we talked about this?”
“Nanami!” Gojo put on his familiar act of pretending to be surprised by Nanami’s arrival. “Welcome home, darling!”
“Gojo,” Nanami said with a tired air.
He did his best to maintain his composure. He needed to keep some boundaries now that his professional and personal lives were more intertwined than ever before. It was consistently harder and harder to do though now that he and Gojo were together. He strived to be more tolerant of Gojo’s antics in their personal lives. He thought he was doing pretty well.
“Yes, yes! We talked about it. You talked about it. I listened . . . sort of.” Gojo peeked out at Nanami from behind a cabinet.
“You’re supposed to let me know when you’re going to be here,” Nanami explained, again.
“You should just put “Gojo” on every date in your old-timey day planner, and then you will only be surprised if I don’t show up.” Gojo stuck his tongue out playfully.
“I’m not surprised,” Nanami assured him, and he wasn’t. Not anymore. After the first dozen or so times of finding Gojo in his apartment uninvited, the shock had kind of worn off. Despite his words and general demeanor to the contrary, the visits were welcome, most nights.
“I know.” Gojo gave him a dazzling smile before returning to his pillaging of the pantry.
“I just thought we were going to alternate whose apartment gets ransacked every night.”
“Awww . . ., but Nanami, the food at your place is so much better!”
“That’s because there actually is food at my place.”
Having a ready supply of food had been an oddly pleasant surprise for Gojo, but, as their relationship continued, Nanami had started buying and keeping things specifically for Gojo. Like a feral cat that you start feeding, there was probably no getting rid of him now.
“I know!” Gojo exclaimed. “It’s a mystery!”
“Don’t you have people to actually do your shopping for you?” Nanami leaned against the counter, watching Gojo open multiple packages for sampling.
Gojo stopped chewing and straightened. “You know, you’re probably right. Too bad I don’t go for all that Clan Head bullshit.”
Nanami crossed his arms in front of his chest. Gojo ogled the swell and press of his pectoral muscles and biceps unabashedly.
“Speaking of bureaucratic bullshit, I hope you’re proud of yourself this time.” Nanami sighed with the patience of a saint.
“I mean, I am Satoru Gojo, so I’m pretty proud of myself most of the time.”
“Obviously.” Nanami rolled his eyes.
“Which of the many wonderful things that are attributed to me should I be proud of this time?”
Gojo shook a package of cookies in Nanami’s direction as a peace offering. If Nanami was irritated about something at work enough to bring it up at home, he was probably in trouble.
“There’s a new clause in all of the sorcerers’ contracts.”
“What kind of clause?” Gojo asked through a mouthful of the cookies he had just been offering to Nanami.
“Mission reports cannot be closed out without Shoko-san’s signature.” Nanami stared at Gojo stoically.
“Sounds like a lot of extra work for Shoko,” Gojo mused as he continued to rummage through the newly purchased snacks.
Nanami shook his head, realizing that Gojo was only paying attention to the words and not the meaning.
“I suppose that’s true,” Nanami agreed, “since all sorcerers have to report to her for a physical after each mission. If they don’t, they won’t be assigned to new missions until she clears them.”
Gojo retracted from the pantry and swallowed hard.
“All sorcerers?”
“All sorcerers,” Nanami confirmed.
“This is my fault, isn’t it?” Gojo had the decency to look chagrined.
Nanami straightened and pushed away from the counter. He shucked off his suit jacket and folded it across one of the bar stools. He unbuttoned the cuff of his sleeve and began to roll it up his forearm.
“Did you tell Shoko-san about my inclination to not come see her after suffering minor injuries during missions?” Nanami asked, his focus shifting to his other sleeve.
Gojo tapped his lips with a finger. “It might have slipped out in passing. She’s very persuasive.”
“Uh-huh,” Nanami huffed, taking the bags of snacks from Gojo’s hands and putting them back in the cupboard.
There would have been a time when open snack bags returned to the pantry would have bothered Nanami. Now, he knew that those treats wouldn’t be there in the morning, so he had nothing about which to worry.
“Am I in trouble?” Gojo asked, trying to hide his smile.
“You are,” Nanami stated, shooing him from the kitchen and into the hallway.
“Are you going to spank me?” Gojo looked over his shoulder, his face alight with hopeful anticipation, as Nanami ushered him toward the bedroom.
“No,” Nanami’s voice came out husky and low, “because you like it too much.”
Gojo turned around fully to face Nanami. He pulled his blindfold down, revealing his shocked expression.
“But, Naaa-na-miii, I wore the loose pants that you like!” Gojo’s voice was a plea.
“I noticed.” Nanami said as he pushed Gojo into the bedroom and slammed the door behind them.