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“Come on, Suguru!”
Satoru Gojo was a lot of things to many people. The strongest sorcerer, obviously. Extremely attractive, what with his 190 cm frame and piercing blue eyes. Someone who could never take anything seriously, who was always cracking jokes and making little teasing remarks, even when the situation was literally life-or-death. Energetic. Funny. Kind.
And annoying.
That trait specifically was what first came to mind when Suguru Geto first met Satoru Gojo.
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It was their first year and they were both a little less sure of themselves, a little more awkward, Suguru exclusively dressed in grunge band t-shirts and Satoru with his spiky, too-short haircut. (Shoko Ieiri, annoyingly, had skipped this awkward phase and was already too cool for either of them.)
They were all squeezed into Principal Yaga’s small, overly warm office at 7:15 on their very first day of Jujutsu High. Suguru was already too close to Satoru for his liking, the white-haired boy’s shoulder jostling uncomfortably against his. It was when Yaga began running through Jujutsu High’s code of conduct that Satoru turned to Suguru and whispered, his voice annoyingly smooth, “So, what’s with the bangs? Or is covering half your face the kind of look you’re going for?” It was that moment, that comment, that made Suguru realize that Satoru Gojo was going to be getting under his skin far more than he could have ever expected.
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In the months that followed, Suguru had narrowed it down to three main demonic traits that made Satoru into the little shit that he was.
- Incessant whining
Exhibit A: the movie. Now that the two were in their third-year, they looked considerably more presentable than how they had shown up on their first day. Satoru’s hair was more normal, Suguru’s emo phase had died out, and the two had fallen into a comfortable, familiar pattern of bickering that only two boys who would literally die for each other could be in.
Because it was a Saturday, and they didn’t have training the next morning, and god forbid Suguru wanted to do something fun to distract himself that he spent every single day of his life choking down curses, he had suggested to his best friend that the two of them venture into the city and watch a movie.
Of course, because Satoru was impossible, it had not gone as smoothly as Suguru had hoped.
He was hoping to have Shoko join them, but because Utahime’s day off was also Sunday she had blown them off to visit Kyoto instead. Typical. Whatever. This just meant that Suguru had Satoru blabbering on in his ear about the latest idol he had made his wallpaper, or the rare Digimon card he had just collected, for the entire afternoon.
Suguru had made the devastating mistake of not regulating Satoru’s kikufuku consumption, and now the white-haired boy was talking faster than Suguru had ever heard him talk in his life. Never mind that Satoru had spent all of high school building up his sweet tooth to insane levels. Evidently, eating an entire 12-pack of kikufuku was too much, even for the strongest sorcerer. Walking to the theatre from the train station, Suguru’s eye had began to twitch as Satoru jumped and bounced and exclaimed loudly from his sugar rush, all of his energy directed solely at his best friend.
“This was a bad idea,” Suguru muttered.
Satoru pouted. “What do you mean? Don’t cha’ like hanging out with me, Suguboo?”
“Don’t call me that.”
“But it’s such a cute nickname!”
2. Stubbornness
“No, that movie is boring. I wanna watch Human Earthworm II.”
Suguru tried not to scream. “...Satoru. I told you I wanted to watch the documentary. That’s like, the whole reason I made the trip to Tokyo.”
“Can’t you just watch it another time, by yourself?” Satoru huffed, crossing his arms like a petulant child. “I’m gonna fall asleep if you make me watch a documentary!”
“You’re unbelievable,” Suguru hissed.
Now Satoru was getting annoyed, his blue eyes flaring. “Jesus, sorry I don’t want to watch your three-hour documentary on-” he glanced at the poster, rolling his eyes. “Oh, right. Rice farming. I mean, seriously, Suguru, we came all the way here, don’t you want to watch something interesting and actually have fun-”
“Fine,” Suguru snapped. “We’ll watch your stupid fucking earthworm thing. Fuck.” He turned on his heel and marched towards the ticket booth, shoving his money at the confused employee and angrily stating the name of the movie. Satoru lingered a little awkwardly behind him, looking as if he was unsure he should be happy that he won the argument, or scared that Suguru currently looked like he wanted to burn this movie theatre to the ground.
Satoru, surprisingly, stayed silent, not prodding any further or trying to convince Suguru to stop at the concession desk. When they finally slid into their seats, second row from the back in the completely empty theatre, Satoru was fiddling nervously with his hands.
“You’re actually mad, huh?” he asked quietly. A pre-showing trailer for some superhero movie with bad CGI droned on the screen in front of them.
Suguru didn’t say anything, staring ahead with his jaw set.
“Look, Suguru, I’m sorry. C’mon, let’s go see the movie you wanted to–”
“No. Look, it’s…” Suguru sighed, giving up on giving Satoru the cold shoulder. “I’ve been really stressed lately. The missions this year have been hell. My technique isn’t improving enough to keep up with the demand, and I just feel…gross. Burnt out.”
Satoru’s eyes softened in worry. “Shit. I’m sorry. Probably hasn’t been very relaxing hanging around me, huh?”
“Well…yes, you can be a lot, Satoru. But it’s mostly just my own shit.”
“You have been pretty off these past few weeks.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“I didn’t-” Satoru huffed. “I wasn’t tryna insult you…you just look so tense.”
Suguru smiled bitterly. “Yeah, well, I’ve been a little pent up.”
“Pent up?” Satoru raised an eyebrow. “Like, as in…”
“Yeah.”
“I feel like what I’m thinking maybe isn’t–”
“I haven’t jerked off in a month,” Suguru muttered.
Satoru’s jaw practically dropped. “A month?! Holy shit. Suguru, that can’t be healthy.”
“Just because you jerk off multiple times a day–”
“Okay, first of all, I don’t jerk off multiple times a day. Usually. And second of all, you’re a 17-year-old boy. You’re supposed to jerk off or your hormones are gonna make you go fucking crazy.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Suguru hissed, grateful that the movie that had started in the meantime was currently on a nighttime scene, not bright enough to reveal the flush spreading across his cheeks. “It’s not like I haven’t tried.”
“Jesus, that’s even worse,” Satoru grimaced. “You just haven’t been able to come. I thought you were avoiding it altogether.”
“Thanks, Satoru. This has been real helpful. Now, can we talk about something else?”
Satoru looked thoughtful, obviously ignoring Suguru’s request completely. “So, you try but just can’t focus, or…?”
“I don’t know,” Suguru hissed. “It just doesn’t happen. Now, can we focus on the stupid movie?”
Satoru was silent for a while, and the two of them watched as a massive earthworm with at least two hundred teeth ate a bunch of screaming teenagers at an amusement park.
3. Constant insistence
“You know–”
“What now,” Suguru groaned, putting his head in his hands.
“I could help you.”
Suguru’s heart stopped for a second and his brain had to rapidly reboot to try and process the four words that had just come out of his best friend’s mouth. The worst part? His offer seemed completely genuine.
“...What?”
Satoru shrugged, looking a little sheepish. “I could help you do it.”
“You want to help me jerk off,” Suguru deadpanned, watching him warily.
“Don’t make it weird. From what I’m seeing, my best friend is extremely pent-up and I’m doing the very best thing I can do to relieve his stress.”
“Oh god.” Suguru’s face contorted into a mix of disbelief and horror. “Oh god, you’re completely serious about this, aren’t you?”
“Come on, Suguru. Please? I’ve been annoying you all day. Let me do one good thing for you?” Now Suguru could feel his self-control begin to float away because Satoru’s voice was practically pleading, and his eyes looked pretty in the dark like this, and holy shit his hand was already beginning to trail up Suguru’s thigh.
“What the fu– here?” Suguru hissed, grabbing Satoru’s hand.
“We’re literally completely alone,” Satoru whined. “Please, Suguru. I really wanna do this to make it up to you.”
Suguru had died. He had died and gone to heaven because he was about to get a hand job from his best friend who he was secretly in love with in the middle of a fucking mall movie theatre. Or, on second thought, maybe this was hell.
Suguru looked at Satoru for a second, half in disbelief that this situation was even occurring. “What the hell,” he finally sighed in defeat. “Sure. I mean, you can try, but I really don’t think–” His breath was punched from his lungs as Satoru’s hand dipped below the waistband of his sweatpants and wrapped around his cock.
“Fuck,” Suguru cursed, his eyelids fluttering closed as Satoru’s hand pulled his length out of his boxers, the cold of the air-conditioned movie theatre prickling on his skin.
“Jesus, Suguru,” Satoru breathed, and Suguru opened one eye to see Satoru staring in awe at Suguru’s cock. The blue-eyed boy hungrily took in the sight of Suguru’s half-hard cock, long and thick, veins pulsing and already glistening with pre-cum at the tip. “You have a really nice dick.”
Suguru let out a choked half-scoff, half-laugh. “Asshole.” His hips twitched involuntarily and he tried not to begin pathetically thrusting up into Satoru’s stationary hand.
Since Satoru wasn’t evil, he showed Suguru mercy and began to experimentally stroke. He swiped his fingers over Suguru’s tip, eliciting a small whimper from the man as the touch set the bundle of nerves on fire.
“Cute,” Satoru murmured, watching Suguru with half-lidded eyes. His hand was slicked with pre now, and it moved up and down the shaft with barely any friction. It was actually embarrassing how quickly Suguru was falling apart from a simple hand job, and he found himself gripping onto the seat next to him, his hips bucking up into Satoru’s hand.
Satoru sped up, twisting slightly at the base and Suguru moaned, a broken, breathy thing that spilled from his lips before he could stop it. The sound only seemed to urge Satoru on and his pace became bruisingly fast and firm, causing louder and louder sounds to tumble from Suguru’s lips.
“You’re close,” Satoru breathed, watching Suguru closely. He would be lying if he didn’t say his best friend’s expression was incredibly arousing, eyes glazed and lips slightly parted as the sensation of Satoru’s hand moving up and down his cock caused all his other thoughts to go fuzzy.
“T-this is usually the part where I…” Suguru panted, voice breathy and strained, his head falling back onto the chair of the theatre. “...I lose it.”
“Not on my watch,” Satoru muttered, “Come on, Sugu. You can do it.”
“C-can’t…”
“Yes, you can. You’re doing so good for me, baby. Just a little more.” And now Satoru’s other hand was coming up join his first, both working now at just the right pressure and angle to make sparks shoot behind Suguru’s eyelids. He swiped a thumb over Suguru’s leaking tip, the touch feather-light, and smiled pleasedly as Suguru clamped a hand over his mouth to keep from crying out in ecstasy.
“Fuck– Satoru– I’m gonna–”
Suguru came with a sob, back arching and entire body shuddering as warm ropes of cum pulsed into Satoru’s hand. The sensation was so blindingly overwhelming that his vision blacked out for a second, white-hot pleasure shooting through his veins. It wasn't like he had never had an orgasm before, but it had been so, so long, and somehow with Satoru doing it it was so, so much better, and Suguru felt like his entire being was thrumming with the satisfaction of that deep itch finally being scratched.
As he slowly came back to himself, blinking blearily at Satoru, his vision focused in on the other man who was watching him with a mix of awe and arousal.
“W-what,” Suguru rasped out, his brain still pleasantly foggy from his orgasm. He felt floaty and boneless and more relaxed than he had felt in weeks.
“Holy shit, Suguru. That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” Satoru breathed, his hand still on Suguru’s spent, twitching cock.
Even in the depths of Suguru’s hazy mind, the words made his heart skip pleasantly. The thought that Satoru, his Satoru, had just jerked him off. And, by the looks of it, enjoyed it immensely.
However, the pleasant feeling was immediately gone as he looked down and saw his grey sweatpants and the floor streaked with cum.
“Fuck,” Suguru whispered, panic kicking in. “Does this stuff come out easily?”
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