Work Text:
Satoru Gojo was the pinnacle of sorcery. Humanity at such a high apex he tiptoed on the edge of something more. A being so powerful the entire balance of the world shifted when he was born, and yet there was one obstacle standing in his way.
“I don’t know if he even likes flowers,” He grumbled to himself, glaring daggers at the same five bouquets he had been standing gormlessly in front of for the last almost fifteen minutes. Earlier on that very same day, he had decimated a special grade cursed spirit, and had shattered a cursed amulet of unknown abilities with a fraction of the effort and energy he was currently pouring into the neatly arranged blooms.
Roses seemed a bit too full on for the occasion, and while he never usually had a problem with his own extravagance, this was something he really wanted to get right.
A bottle of wine was also out of the question, something about it seemed less “I really want to date you” and more “drop those ugly tan slacks and bend over”. Which wasn’t a problem at all in Gojo’s eyes but again - good impressions and all that.
He had vaguely considered asking Shoko, but she was potentially the one person on the planet less romantic than himself, and his usual go-to guy for questions like this was Nanami. Which also wouldn’t work considering it was Nanami he was hoping to woo.
The man had made a rather triumphant return to the world of sorcery a few months ago, having been immediately reinstated as a high Grade 1 and had earned the respect of both seasoned sorcerers and students alike.
For Gojo, having another close, trusted ally meant the world, and there was nobody better suited for the job. Having traded in old band shirts and skinny jeans and eyeliner for sleek suits, cropped hair and sensible watches, it wasn’t just Nanami’s skills and strength that had improved during their time apart.
He was older now, mature. No longer the same boy with more lanky limbs and emo records than sense. And god did it do a number on Gojo.
Finding their footing again had been a little awkward at first, what with Gojo unable to reconcile the fact that the skinny little junior he used to tease in high school was now a fully grown - exceptionally handsome - man, one that commanded both respect and no insignificant amount of lust.
That didn’t stop Gojo’s teasing, however, but Nanami had still responded delightfully well, his dry sense of humour intact despite everything.
Then the teasing turned to flirting, and the shutdowns turned to slight interest - a flame that Gojo had nursed until more often than not they couldn’t be in the same room as each other without that certain spark between them that turned Gojo’s stomach to a hoard of butterflies.
And it was high time Gojo finally did something meaningful about it. Which was where he found himself, still standing like an idiot in front of the same flowers he’d been staring at for what felt like days.
With a groan, he screwed his eyes shut, accepting his blossoming, petal-ed defeat. He stomped off, freeing up the aisle for other shoppers as he headed towards the bakery section for a selection of treats instead.
The baker looked at him knowingly, taking in the anxious cloud over his face and the sharp outfit he had on, no doubt smelling his expensive cologne and putting two and two together.
“Shall I tie a bow on this for you?” She said, glancing between the nondescript white box and the spool of shiny red ribbon on the side.
Tension flowed out of him so quickly he could hear it receding like a tidal wave.
“Please.” He sighed, gift sorted.
All that was left to do was actually ask the question and pray his tongue didn’t go all fat and useless in his mouth and choke him up.
The walk from the market to Nanami’s apartment building was brisk, the sun had long since set and the early winter air bit at his nose and cheeks without his Infinity to keep him warm. The box in his arms warmed his hands and grounded him.
Nanami’s building loomed up ahead and in order to avoid a weird confrontation with the doorman, Gojo took a deep breath in and warped himself to the stairwell on the fourth floor, marching innocently out towards the end of the hall where Nanami’s door lay.
As he walked, nerves bubbling up inside him, he reminded himself that this was only Nanami, and he had no reason to fear. All signs pointed to him agreeing to a date, even if it was only the one. And if “no” happened to be his answer, Nanami was a good man and wouldn’t hold anything against him if the feelings weren’t mutual.
He took a deep breath, pausing in front of the door to sort his hair in the reflection of the peephole and adjust his collar to look his absolute best.
He raised his hand to knock, hand hovering somewhat nervously over the dark varnished door.
In his hesitation, a muffled commotion sounded from behind the door, followed by a wicked laugh and a cry of what sounded like pain. Gojo’s ears strained over his own heartbeat thumping in his chest as the scuffle continued inside.
His dinner date plans suddenly became the last thing on his mind as the noises grew louder, albeit dampened significantly by the thick wooden door.
He heard a voice that was unmistakably Nanami’s curse, volume barely below a shout.
Nanami was in trouble.
Gojo sent a silent prayer out that the door was either unlocked or that Nanami would forgive him for blowing it off the hinges before pushing it open, dropping the box on the shelf at the entryway and racing to the source of the chaos with his hand raised, his signature blue energy dancing at his fingertips.
The heavy door slammed shut behind him as his eyes struggled to take in the sight that greeted them. His entire world narrowed to a point, his vision a tunnel focused straight ahead.
He could feel his own face falling and blood rushed to his ears, flushing his pale skin a deep red.
Blue flickered slightly, his cursed energy and his own resolve wavering in confusion and he swallowed, struck dumb as the room stilled.
There, bent in half over his own kitchen table, his skin flushed and slick with sweat, his eyes glistening with unshed tears and his naked body trembling and held in place by a large, scarred hand on the back of his neck, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, lay Nanami.
“Gojo-” He started, his voice wrecked as he stared up at Gojo in astonishment.
“Oho! Here to save the day?” The scarred man grinned, grinding his cock slowly into Nanami’s pliant body, eyes flickering to where Nanami collapsed on the table before staring right back at Gojo again.
The man was tall. Taller even, than Gojo. He was bigger too, broader, his muscles solid and strong even against a man as powerful as Nanami. His skin was littered with scars, some old, some gnarled and fresh. Coarse white hairs adorned his chest and teased down from his navel to where his cock was currently buried to the hilt inside Nanami.
“Not what you were expecting, huh?” The man asked again, rearing his hips back before fucking into Nanami again hard enough to shift the table a few centimetres, Gojo grimaced as he recognised it as one of the noises from earlier.
His words made Gojo look up. Up from the hand encasing the neck of the man he came here to confess to, up past where their bodies were joined in unholy matrimony, up further still over a sturdy, wide torso with each abdominal and oblique muscle clearly defined until he reached the man’s face.
Gojo sucked in a gasp as the stranger grinned at him, flashing a mouth of familiar pearly white teeth. Crow’s feet wrinkles framed a pair of unique, glacial blue eyes. The man’s hair was pushed back off his face, snowy white strands falling over his forehead and eyebrows.
“You’re… me?” Gojo asked, staring into the identical eyes of who appeared to be a much older version of himself.
The man nodded, smoothing two large hands down the length of Nanami’s back as they both stared at the intruder Gojo. His hips never once stopped, rolling in licentious circles against the ample curve of Nanami’s ass and driving him crazy from lack of proper stimulation.
Gojo should have been incensed, horrified, furious, anything. Anything at all except curious, and just the slightest bit aroused. He should be yelling at his older self for shamelessly taking what wasn’t his, yelling at Nanami for giving himself up to this stranger so easily. But he wasn’t. Instead he watched on as this audacious clone tightened his grip on Nanami’s hips, ample flesh spilling between each bruising digit. He was mesmerised.
The older Gojo opened his mouth to speak but a whine from the neglected body beneath him cut him off.
“Satoru.” Nanami tried again, his honeyed eyes searching the man in front of him, hoping for a chance to explain.
“Quiet.” The scarred Gojo brought a hand down across Nanami’s ass in a harsh smack, watching delighted as it jiggled before pushing the side of his face firmly down against the table once more. “We’re not talking to you right now.”
Gojo practically snarled.
“Don’t treat him like that.”
His older counterpart’s eyes widened in glee at the puffed up little display in front of him.
“You have no idea how much he just tightened up around me. Our little slut of a boyfriend loves it rough, don’t you baby?”
Gojo had to bite his tongue to stop from blurting out that he’s not Nanami’s boyfriend yet. He was hoping tonight would be the night but trust his own damn self to ruin it for him. Just maybe not in the way he was expecting.
Another reverberating slap pulled Gojo from his moping as Nanami cried out, the large hand in his hair pulling him off the table, giving Gojo the full view of his bitten chest, flushed across pretty dusky nipples and sweat glistened skin.
“I said you love it rough, don’t you?” Older Gojo’s hips slammed forward, pulling a moan from deep inside Nanami.
“Yes!” He whined, his voice already ruined. “I love it rough please just fuck me!”
A whirlpool of rage and white hot arousal swirled in the pit of Gojo’s stomach. How dare his future self ruin this for him. And how dare Nanami let him.
He wanted to be the first one to take Nanami apart. He wanted to learn his body by himself, find out what makes the man tick, what breaks that resolve of his. Find out where all his most sensitive parts were and ruin him with them.
“There’s a fire in those eyes, kid. You gonna get over here and do something about it?”
Gojo’s energy settled, a comforting buzz at his fingertips as Blue reignited, poised and ready to fly right between his own clone’s eyes.
His older self tutted, disappointed before laying Nanami back across the table and stilling once more, pulling out of him with a deep sigh.
“We never have been good at sharing, have we?”
Gojo snarled at him as he raised his own hand, matching blue energy springing to life like a mirror.
They stared at each other, identical pairs of eyes ablaze; one with righteous fury, the other blatant amusement.
Gojo took a deep breath in and out through his nose, nostrils flaring as he dared to step closer. The older Gojo smirked, condescending from his advantage. They both knew the younger was on the back foot, having no idea the new capabilities or techniques of the stranger, yet he advanced once more.
They both opened their mouths to speak, racing each other for the next word, venom and vitriol on their tongues before matching airborne objects hit them both across the sides of their temples with a force. The things rattled off their heads and fell to the floor with dull thuds. Their positions dropped, competition momentarily forgotten as they grumbled in confusion.
“If you absolutely must kick lumps out of each other, please refrain from doing so in my kitchen,” Nanami said from his new perch leaning against his fridge, a third and fourth apple in his hands as a precaution.
Both Gojos looked at him in shock before glancing at the table where he once was then back again.
He had donned a robe, and soft white slippers, and both of them felt a little sheepish at how engrossed in each other they were that Nanami had left the room and returned with projectiles without notice.
Nanami hummed to himself, it seemed both men in front of him were comfortable enough in his presence to have dropped their guards entirely. Which was a nice thought. And just as well, since it would have been embarrassing for him if both apples got caught uselessly in their Infinity.
The younger Gojo was the first to apologise, still eager to be on Nanami’s good side, despite the freakish circumstances.
Nanami held up a hand to cut him off.
“It feels weird being caught fucking your clone and you being the one to apologise. If anything it should be me,” He said simply, as if stating a fact. But Gojo knew him well enough by now to notice his eyes avoiding eye contact, and the light dusting of pink across his face. He was embarrassed.
Gojo’s heart clenched. Despite his anger, which wasn’t aimed at Nanami particularly, more the galumphing hunk of idiot currently wriggling his eyebrows at him over Nanami’s shoulder, he still felt good. It settled his gale-force emotions slightly to know where the Nanami’s heart lay with him.
Or at least his ass. Which was probably bigger.
“This is touching and all,” The older Gojo addressed the younger, scratching the nape of his neck while still stark naked and visibly interested in Nanami, who took that with quiet pride. “But we all know what happens next.”
A beat of silence fell before both of them spoke at once.
“I should leave you to it.”
“We both gotta fuck him.”
More silence descended as two sets of brilliant blue eyes landed squarely on Nanami. One smug and all knowing, the other scandalised and slack jawed.
Nanami glanced between them, and down slightly, considering the older clone was still impressively hard, before running his hands across his face.
He prayed his Gojo would forgive him for this. Shame crawled over his skin, heating him from the inside. The faux pas of a lifetime. How do you properly apologise to the love of your life for sleeping with his older hunk of a clone?
Behind his back no less. Without him knowing you even felt that way for him.
If the tables were turned, he himself would be frustratingly more flattered than disturbed, provided his own older self looked even a fraction as handsome as Gojo. But he was a sensible man, and could see how someone else may take it very differently.
He sighed deeply, hoping his own Gojo didn’t hate him, but the opportunity was far too good to pass up. And since it wasn’t him that spoke the suggestion into existence, he couldn’t be blamed for reacting to it, right?
He’d already made his bed. He just had to lie in it.
Seeing no point in delaying what was both inevitable and arousing, Nanami shrugged and nodded towards the older Gojo.
“I prefer his idea.” He then glanced to his Gojo, and God when did he start referring to him as his. A thought more dangerous than any curse. “If you’re interested.”
A shadow descended on the real Gojo’s face, his pupils blowing wide and his eyes narrowing as he strode, no, stalked towards Nanami. He crossed the room quicker than Nanami could get his thoughts together, a fruitless venture considering they all flew directly out of his head the second Gojo’s big hands cupped the sides of his face.
Gojo’s lips were on his with force, biting, bruising, ruthless in their kiss. Nanami’s knees went weak. He supported himself with the corner of the countertop against his ass and his arms wrapped tight around Gojo’s neck and shoulders. He moaned weakly into Gojo’s mouth. He could feel Gojo’s proud smile against his mouth as the man continued to bite and suck at his lips, leaving them plumper and pinker than they were with his older clone.
His fingers wound through Gojo’s hair, hands gripping desperately as he tried to keep afloat amidst the tidal wave of ardent adoration and need Gojo poured into their kiss. His hands were on Nanami’s hips, grinding his clothed cock against Nanami’s thigh and groaning as the muscles tensed and flexed for him. Emboldened by the sweet whimpers leaving Nanami, Gojo sucked his bottom lip between his teeth and pulled back until Nanami hissed, his hips bucking off the counter in search of friction.
Gojo released Nanami, and tried not to moan out loud at the whine he let out as he chased the ghost of his lips, desperate and needy. Just how Gojo wanted him.
“God, I’ve always been such a fast learner.”
Gojo’s head whipped round to his older, trespassing self as he approached, strong hands divulging his younger self of his jacket. From their sudden proximity, Gojo realised just how pronounced their size difference was. If he had to guess, he’d say this future version of him was at least ten years older. Maybe even closer to twenty.
“Gojo,” Nanami said, his voice hoarse from the kissing and his earlier loud unrestrained moaning.
Both of them jerked their heads towards him, and he frowned, shaking his head slightly.
Too confusing.
“Can I call you Satoru?” He said to his younger Gojo, who all but melted at the request.
“Not exactly how I imagined you asking me that.” He placed a gentle kiss on the back of Nanami’s knuckles. “-But of course, baby.” He said, watching in glee as Nanami’s eyes fluttered at the pet name.
“Cute.” The older Gojo said. “You can call me Daddy.” He teased, reaching for Nanami’s other hand, and was promptly shut down.
“Absolutely not.” Satoru and Nanami snapped in unison.
The older Gojo laughed good-naturedly, pulling back entirely.
“Never gets old. But alright, I know when I’m not wanted.” He put his hands up in surrender and made a move to put his clothes on.
Nanami caught him by the wrist before he took another step.
“Gojo-sama!” He pleaded, the name falling from his lips with ease. It shocked him that no shame washed over him. The title was right enough, the man was older, stronger, bigger, meaner. He commanded respect. He was dangerous.
And the very look in his eyes right now told him exactly that.
“Say it again.” He growled, his eyes blazing as they bore straight into Nanami’s soul, seemingly carving out every single dirty fantasy he’d ever had and saving them for later. Even his own younger self balked at that expression on his face. He had no idea how Nanami was withstanding it.
“Gojo-sama.” Nanami complied.
“Again.”
Nanami swallowed, making a show of wetting his lips and blinking once, twice. He intertwined his fingers with Satoru’s and glanced between the two of them.
“Gojo-sama, Satoru,” He said.
And both Gojos were gone.
Satoru moaned, spinning Nanami by the hips until he could grind his clothed cock against the swell of his ass, bending down ever so slightly to bite and kiss a wet trail from the junction of his neck up to his earlobe. He earned himself a front row seat to the way his older self marched up to Nanami, that flash of danger written across his face and body. He grabbed Nanami’s chin with one hand, fingers digging into his cheeks until his mouth opened and he stuck his tongue out obediently, expectantly, for him to spit directly onto the waiting muscle.
“Good.” The clone crooned, closing Nanami’s mouth and watching his throat work as he swallowed his spit. If it weren’t for Satoru’s hands holding his hips, Nanami would have collapsed on the floor, his legs too jellied to support his weight.
“Close your mouth kid, you’ll catch flies,” Gojo said, and Satoru snapped his mouth shut with a scowl, his teeth clacking.
Gojo made quick work of untying the knot in Nanami’s robe, sliding the useless garment off his shoulders and letting it drop to the floor. He took a selfish, lingering leer at his body again before standing back up to his full height.
“You’ve got a lot to learn about him.” He said, prying Nanami out of Satoru’s hold long enough to sweep his legs out from under him and carry him over his shoulder towards the living room as Nanami growled and thumped at his solid, wide back.
“For example, he fucking hates being carried like this.” He threw a grin over his free shoulder to his younger self before tossing Nanami onto his sofa, where he scrambled to right himself, not wanting to miss a single second of either of his lovers in front of him. Appropriately aged or otherwise.
Gojo stood in front of him, signalling for Satoru to round behind the sofa. Nanami watched them both move like a hawk, drinking in the sight of such powerful men, basking in the pleasure of their undivided attention.
Satoru took his shirt off, guiding the fabric up his abdomen with a teasing slowness, watching Nanami’s eyes zero in on every new inch of exposed skin.
Unlike his older counterpart, Satoru had only one scar on his chest, spanning almost the length of his upper torso. He had less hair there too.
“You’re leaner than I remember.” Gojo whistled. When Satoru made a move to frown, Gojo tutted at him.
“I wish I still looked like that. You’re hot.” He grinned.
Satoru beamed back.
“So are you.”
Nanami was content to watch them interact and catalogue their differences in his brain, committing them both to memory until they both turned to him with matching shark grins.
They were facing each other, with only him and the sofa between them. Understanding dawned on him with a wicked fire through his veins and a twitch of his aching cock. He scrambled to his knees, crawling between them and arching his back, presenting his hole to Gojo once more.
This new position put him eye level with Satoru’s cock, straining at the confines of his jeans. Nanami allowed himself a little pride. Having the man of his dreams in front of him visibly aroused by him now and well into the future felt pretty damn good.
However, a sudden thick finger plunging back into his hole and nailing his prostate first try felt even better. And the relief of it sent him pitching forward, his face rubbing wantonly against Satoru’s bulge as a breathy moan spilled from his lips.
Satoru dragged his clothed cock against Nanami’s face, shivering at the lewdness, before Nanami’s shaky hands came up to grapple with his stubborn belt and fly.
“He wants it bad.” Gojo said, his eyes locked onto where Nanami was desperately trying to get at his cock. “Wants you.”
Satoru exhaled shakily and shut his eyes tight, sending out a silent prayer that he wouldn’t blow his load immediately like a loser.
Trembling hands unfastened his own slacks, removing the last lines of defence between him and his own total, complete undoing. Nothing would be the same after this. His life would be split into two clean sections: with Nanami, and without Nanami. He couldn’t pretend he was normal after this, after reaching heaven. He looked down at Nanami, his brown eyes blown wide with lust as they stared boldly back up at him - waiting, wanting.
He kicked his slacks off and behind him somewhere, hissing as Nanami’s hands held his waist, his pinkies dipping beneath the waistband of his boxers before teasing the fabric down. He peppered light kisses to each new inch of exposed skin before Satoru’s cock sprang free.
Satoru glowed with smug pride watching Nanami’s eyes widen at the size of him. His mouth practically watered. Obviously he’d seen it before from the start of his very rushed, very confusing tryst with the Gojo behind him. However, seeing it up close and personal and attached to the Satoru he fell in love with was something altogether more.
It was long and thick, curved up towards his stomach in his interest and flushed such a pretty, delicate shade of pink. Pre-cum pearled at the tip, and the whole thing jumped when he wrapped a hand around the base, opening his mouth to let the gathered saliva drip onto the flushed head.
Satoru didn’t know what to do with his hands as Nanami caught his gaze once more before encircling him with his warm, spit-slick lips. A desperate, keening moan made the decision for him as his body bowed and his hands found Nanami’s head, holding onto him for dear life as he took him apart.
Blissful seconds passed as Nanami built up a rhythm, getting more and more confident with each salacious bob of his head up and down the length of his cock.
The room was quiet, save for Satoru’s breathless whining and the slick noises Nanami’s mouth made against him. Satoru’s hips trembled, his whole body a live wire as he desperately fought the urge to thrust wildly and fuck Nanami’s throat.
“Don’t be shy now, you’ve never had that problem before.” Gojo teased as he watched, his free hand roaming Nanami’s body with the other still working inside him.
Satoru scowled at his older counterpart, although there was no heat behind it.
Nanami pulled off him with an obscene ‘pop’ and he held himself upright on the backrest of the sofa.
“He’s right, I can take it,” Nanami said, his face soft and glowing with a confident, lopsided smile.
Satoru bent down and captured his lips once more, a far softer, more chaste kiss than the occasion called for. He stood back to his full height, a thrilling smirk settling over his face.
“You want me to fuck your throat?” Satoru asked, a new fire igniting inside him.
Nanami bit back a moan at the sudden change in Satoru’s demeanor. He liked it rough, loved it even. But maybe he should have thought to show a bit of caution around not only the strongest being on the planet, but his clone as well.
He glanced up at Satoru’s face, crystal eyes softening as they stared at each other.
No matter, this was his Satoru after all. He knew they would work well together in any scenario.
“Please,” he said, mind made up. “You won’t hurt me.”
Trust. Total, explicit trust. Nanami knew any version of Gojo was absolutely capable of turning his body into a bloody, sinewy mist of atoms with a blink of an eye, but he also knew there wasn’t a chance in hell he would let harm come to even a single hair on his head.
The gentle shine in Satoru’s eyes disappeared after that, trusting them all to take Nanami to his absolute limits and not a step further.
“Not unless you ask very nicely.” Gojo bent down to whisper in Nanami’s ear, suddenly doing something with his hand that caused him to cry out and lurch forward.
Gojo grabbed Satoru’s cock - his calloused hand feeling so much different to his own - before slapping the tip a couple of times against Nanami’s bottom lip. Precum smeared across his lips like gloss before he opened his mouth and curled his tongue around the tip. Satoru hissed and swore on an exhale, his hands coming up to tangle in Nanami’s hair as his hips guided more of that thick length into Nanami’s mouth.
He moved with ease past where Nanami had taken him of his own volition, then even deeper still without signs of struggle. Nanami only blinked through his lashes and hollowed his cheeks before Satoru started to move, emboldened by Nanami’s unconventional skill.
Nanami moaned around his cock as Gojo stood back up straight, slipping his fingers out of his hole and catching Satoru’s eye.
They held each others’ gaze as Gojo lined up the tip of his cock to Nanami’s lube-slick hole. Gojo nodded once, mischief in his eyes before slamming into the pliant body beneath him with force. Nanami’s eyes blew wide and he wailed garbled as the sudden intrusion lit up his nerves from the inside like fireworks and he pitched forward once more, sending Satoru’s cock deep into his throat.
All three moaned in tandem as both Gojos settled into a rhythm, the movement of their hips bouncing Nanami back and forth, speared from either end.
Drool and pre-cum gathered in the corners of Nanami’s mouth as he struggled to breathe around the cock in his throat. It threatened to spill down his chin like the tears forming in his eyes.
It was too much, entirely too much, but it was the best fucking thing that had happened to him in his entire life. His body no longer felt like his own. The Gojos shared praise above him, their words lost to him over the blood rushing through his ears, the crawling prickling tension of a powerful orgasm already building deep within him.
A harsh hand slapped his ass once more as Gojo’s cock hit his prostate dead on and he choked, tears finally falling down his cheeks.
He reared back, suddenly unable to breathe around Satoru’s cock as his orgasm thundered towards him. Before he could escape the torment and suck in air and not dick, a large hand pushed the back of his head, forcing him down and pressing his nose to the soft hairs at the base of Satoru’s cock. His lungs heaved, hot and prickly internally from the lack of air.
He felt drool and precum drip from his open mouth onto the freshly cleaned sofa cushions below him, but it was quickly forgotten in favour of Gojo behind him. He had folded himself over Nanami, strong chest against muscled back, their sweat slick skin superheating Nanami and driving Gojo’s cock harder and harder into his prostate.
Nanami’s legs shook, his hips bucking and twitching wildly as he reached the very top of the climb.
“Take it.” Gojo’s hand still held him in place as he spoke.
Nanami’s vision darkened, spots appearing behind his screwed-shut eyes as he came, his entire body falling apart with the force. He could feel himself screaming as his cock bounced with each rope of cum shot across the sofa and his chest, but barely any sound came out around Satoru.
Gojo wrapped a hand around Nanami, stroking him cruelly into overstimulation as Satoru pulled out. Nanami wailed and sucked in desperate breaths, a string of saliva still connecting his bottom lip to Satoru’s flushed tip.
His face was red in places, wet with tears and spit and his lips were plump and swollen from the rough treatment.
Gojo held him up with one arm around his chest and shoulders as he stilled his hips, cooing at Nanami as his head rolled forward, too weak to hold himself up.
Satoru let his eyes rake over Nanami as he recovered. His chest heaved, heavy and obscene with every breath. There were bite marks around his hard nipples, blonde hairs dusting across them and down to where his cock still hung impressively hard after his orgasm. Cum trickled lewdly down the length of it, and Satoru had to bite back a groan at the urge to lick it up.
“Bed?” Gojo asked, his voice far gentler and more intimate than Satoru had heard it that day. A tone that spoke of intimate familiarity. And all at once hope and joy bubbled up inside him. The reason he knew so much about Nanami, how protective he seemed of him despite only being a clone - somewhere out there, probably waiting for him, was his own Kento.
The one currently in his scarred arms grumbled, nodding and pouting so adorably that Satoru was powerless to stop himself dropping a sweet kiss on his lips. Nanami smiled, relaxed, before closing his eyes and silently asking for another.
“Finally got it, did ya?” Gojo asked, a fond look in his eye before picking Nanami up and carrying him towards his bedroom.
Satoru nodded to the man’s back, unable to bite back the grin that had overtaken him. They were together in the future.
By the time Satoru pulled himself down from cloud nine for long enough to enjoy the present, the three had already made it to the bedroom.
Gojo threw Nanami on the bed with an exaggerated huff and Nanami moaned at the blatant display of physical strength.
To be carried around with such ease had always been a far off, distant ideal of his, one that he had resigned to a guilty fantasy.
After all, not many people were strong enough to heave over 200lbs around like it was nothing.
But of course Satoru Gojo could.
He let his eyes rake shamelessly over the stark naked forms of both men in front of him, the heat in his face welcomed for once not shamed as two pairs of identical eyes drank him in just as hungrily.
Time seemed to slow, waxing and waning in the world outside their little bubble. Three sets of eyes, three hearts, three bodies. The only movements came from their breathing, minute twitches across thick muscled planes.
Despite their unorthodox beginnings, Nanami couldn’t say he had any regrets. Especially considering the way things were currently unfolding.
Their intense staring match, the quiet before the storm, was broken by Satoru. His eyelids fluttered shut as he wrapped a hand around the base of his cock tightly, a desperate whimper escaping him.
Gojo rolled his eyes at the display, his own cock flushed and leaking between his thighs.
“Satoru.” Nanami rose to his knees, guiding him onto the bed before swinging a strong leg over his side, straddling him. Satoru whimpered, his hips twitching and bucking up of their own accord.
Nanami felt the wet tip of his cock brush against his ass, a string of precum connecting them briefly before snapping.
Much like Gojo’s patience.
His form cast a shadow over Nanami’s peripheral vision as he loomed behind him, pressing a gentle, reverent kiss to his shoulder.
Satoru watched Nanami flush a sweet pink before pleasure shot through his body, his abdomen clenching and his hips thrashing as a large hand wrapped around his cock.
“Gonna blow already?” Gojo grinned, his eyes narrowing at his younger self as he jerked him off cruelly.
Nanami frowned at them both, swatting Gojo’s hand away before guiding Satoru’s tip to his well-prepped entrance.
“Don’t waste anything.” He sank down while chastising Gojo, just down enough for Satoru to breach him with a groan at the wet heat.
“Fuck,” Satoru moaned, long and wrecked.
Nanami smiled to himself, allowing that tiny bit of pride at the state he had Satoru in already. His pretty face was flushed, those mesmerising eyes screwed shut and his hair formed a halo behind him on the pillow. His plush lips were begging to be kissed and that is exactly what Nanami did. He bent down, holding his cheeks gently before curling his tongue between parted lips to slide across Satoru’s.
Satoru moaned into the kiss, clinging onto Nanami for dear life as he reciprocated as best he could. Their tongues explored each others’ mouths, and the room filled with the wet and filthy smacking of their heated makeout and moans.
Gojo flopped to the side, sitting with his back against the headboard and leisurely stroking his own cock as he watched and listened to the younger men devouring each other.
Nanami’s thighs trembled with the effort of holding his position, and Gojo reached his free hand over to press against the small of his back, urging him to sink further down onto Satoru.
Nanami took the hint beautifully. He rested his forehead against Satoru’s, panting into his open mouth as he slammed his hips down, taking him right to the base and slamming him against his prostate.
He bit off a broken moan, ragged breathing multiplied as Satoru kissed him again, thrusting up to meet him halfway.
They found a somewhat awkward rhythm, working in tandem as best they could without compromising any closeness, any skin to skin contact.
Gojo felt somewhat out of place for a second, watching the two cling to each other like they’d drown without the others’ touch.
“Sorry, I need more,” Satoru said, before surging up to flip them over. Nanami’s head landed squarely on Gojo’s plush thigh.
He blinked up at Gojo, who had adjusted so that Nanami was between his legs, eyes widening at the size of his cock so close to his face.
He couldn’t help but admire the handsome older man above him. The sharp cut of his facial features, sharper and meaner than his current self. His muscles were bulkier, his entire frame stacked - even more so than Nanami. His hair had grown out, no longer an undercut, just long enough to slick back off his face and down his neck. That, at least, was how he had it styled before he had marched into Nanami’s home and spun his entire world off kilter. His scars told a story that Nanami wasn’t ready to hear yet, but they did not detract from his beauty. In fact, Nanami wanted to trace over each and every one with his eyes, perhaps even his tongue.
He was handsome, roguish in the lamplight.
Satoru grabbed Nanami’s ankles with a growl, pulling his attention rightfully back to him instead of his clone. He glared at Gojo before pushing, bending Nanami practically in half before lining his cock back up and pushing in.
He used the weight of Nanami’s legs as anchors, pressing down on the backs of his knees to spread him open as far as he could before picking up the pace, his hips jackhammering into Nanami.
Each thrust battered his prostate, and every atom in his body lit up with pleasure so intense and sharp it practically tap-danced on the line between pain and pleasure. Static grew in his limbs, his fingertips tingling as the sensation spread.
“Leaving me out?” Gojo faux lamented above him, batting his eyelashes at him with one hand still on his cock, which greatly cheapened the act.
Nanami tried his best to glare, but the way Satoru was playing his body like an instrument probably painted some fucked-out, salacious expression on his face instead.
That was evidenced by the way Gojo’s face darkened, and he slapped his cock on Nanami’s cheek, before dipping the head into his open mouth, smearing precum across his wet tongue.
He teased Nanami like that, denying him every time his swollen lips tried to wrap around the tip.
It wasn’t until Nanami let out the most pathetic whine after his patience ran out that Gojo took pity on them both, shoving his cock as deep into his mouth as he could with Nanami’s head turned awkwardly to the side.
Gojo groaned at the heat, at the devious tongue whirling around the ridge of him. Feeling charitable, he took Nanami’s legs from Satoru. He took an ankle in each hand and pulled them down even closer to Nanami’s chest in a mating press, threatening to choke him with his airway blocked from the cock in his throat.
Satoru looked relieved, quickly adjusting his position and grabbing Nanami’s hips like handlebars as he continued to wreck him. Each thrust made Nanami moan and writhe and cry, tears threatening to spill from his eyes once more and the vibrations travelled up through Gojo’s dick.
Satoru was the first to finish, his hips stuttering and stilling as he practically flooded Nanami’s hole with his cum.
“Kento!” He cried, borderline manic as the buzzing, electric current zipped through his body mercilessly.
Pulling out was the last thing on his mind as Nanami’s body seemed to suck him in; that glorious heat keeping him in place as his hole milked him for all he was worth. His eyes were screwed shut, vision white and body hot as he came. He kept moving, hips twitching in aborted, almost uncontrollable little thrusts as he came, pushing through the sparks of overstimulation to stay inside him as long as possible.
When he was finally done, body too sensitive to bargain with anymore, he pulled out. His skin tingled. He gestured to Gojo to give him Nanami’s legs to let him breathe and stretch out muscles that were no doubt sore.
“Not yet,” Gojo said, pulling his cock from Nanami’s mouth and shifting next to Satoru. He held both of Nanami’s ankles in one hand.
“No, please-” Nanami panicked, feeling entirely too empty and vulnerable and downright frustrated from a denied orgasm.
The two took no heed to his words as they pushed his legs back with ease, despite his best attempts to keep them closed to regain at least a smidgen of dignity.
Their eyes locked on to his hole, watching enraptured as Satoru’s cum dribbled out, smearing across the skin of his ass cheeks and dripping down.
Nanami whimpered. His legs trembled. His cock twitched.
Two of Gojo’s fingers swiped through the mess, gathering it up before pushing it back inside of him, pressing against his prostate.
Nanami’s body was on fire. From both exertion and embarrassment, held open and ogled at. He covered his face as his cock twitched in interest. His stomach tensed so hard it almost cramped with how desperate he was to cum again.
Satoru backflopped onto the mattress next to him, an arm reaching out to slide underneath his shoulders before heaving him back to straddling him.
“Oh god.” Nanami trembled as both men manhandled him, taking exactly what they wanted. Which just so happened to be everything he had to offer and more. Despite their rough treatment, their touches were devout, their kisses adoring.
Satoru’s cock bumped against his hole, and a noiseless whine left his lips as he felt it open him up once more.
It wasn’t fully hard, twitching and growing inside him.
Satoru swore as Nanami subconsciously tensed and clenched around him, nursing him back to full hardness.
Gojo’s hands were everywhere. Like they couldn’t decide which part of Nanami they wanted to touch more.
“Figures you’d be the kind of freak to get down with your own clone.” Nanami cut himself off with a whimper. A light, airy thing that he wouldn’t have believed came out of him if he hadn’t heard it himself.
Satoru moaned too, just as desperate.
Just as wrecked.
They came courtesy of Gojo. More specifically, his tongue.
Licking a broad stripe that spanned from the base of Satoru’s cock right up to where their bodies were connected, curling against where Satoru’s cum was still dripping from Nanami’s hole.
Satoru’s hips gave a weak twitch. Barely a thrust.
Gojo’s tongue curled up, breaching Nanami’s hole and dipping back out again.
Nanami’s arms shook with the effort of holding himself up, holding himself together. Gojo was practically cleaning his own clone’s cum from inside Nanami. The image was too much to take.
Satoru regained some of his strength, some power back into his muscles. No doubt due to the bout of RCT he just shot through his body.
He glanced down at Nanami with a wicked, wild smile on his face.
“Sorry, Kento.” He pouted at Nanami, insincere. “We can go all night.”
Satoru picked up a rhythm, anchoring his feet to the sheets and driving up into Nanami like a beast reawakened.
Nanami Kento - a Grade 1 sorcerer, owner of a revered and strong technique, respected by many - had been rendered completely powerless. Held tight by the hands of the strongest man in the world, his body well fucked and used by both him and his clone with the promise of being their plaything long into the night.
And the scariest part of it, he was loving every second.
He didn’t need to think here, didn’t need to pretend with them - couldn’t, even if he wanted to. His body was too honest, his moans and cries and whimpers saying what his traitorous mouth never could normally.
‘Take me. Use me. Touch me. Love me.’
While Nanami’s mouth hung perpetually open, a string of eternal, pathetic noises were punched out of spit-slick, bitten lips with each thrust. Satoru’s weapon of choice for the night was sweet talk. Every part of Nanami’s being praised, worshipped, no stone left unturned.
His body.
His mind.
His heart.
His face. Because that was somehow different to his body.
His hole. Because it also deserved a special mention.
Nanami’s face heated, as if his veneration was more salacious than their current physical state.
They continued like that for a while, their bodies rocking together as they panted into each other’s open mouths. The soft hairs of Satoru’s happy trail lit the nerves of Nanami’s cock as he rutted against it, fucking himself back and down to meet Satoru’s thrusts halfway.
Nanami was brought back to reality and let out a shout of surprise when a cold lubed finger breached his hole alongside Satoru’s thick cock.
“Sorry.” Gojo grinned behind him, looking the opposite of it. “I never get to do this with my Kento, I’m too excited.”
“How come?” Satoru asked, slowing the roll of his hips to let Nanami accommodate the additional stretch.
“Would you share him with anyone other than yourself?”
Satoru’s face darkened and he sneered at the mere thought of anyone getting their hands on what was now so obviously his.
“Exactly.” Gojo laughed, the scar on his lip stretching as he did.
He added a second finger, Nanami’s tight hole fucked out and pliant enough to let him in. He curled and scissored them inside, pushing Satoru’s cock against his prostate over and over.
The stretch was more than he was used to, but the sting was barely noticeable. With the remnants of Satoru’s cum and what felt like half the bottle of his expensive lube on Gojo’s thick fingers, Nanami knew his hole must have looked a mess.
The thought turned him on more than it should’ve.
“Good job, sweetheart. You’re taking my fingers so well.”
Nanami whined, the praise going straight to his cock, causing it to leak pitifully onto Satoru’s stomach.
“Think you can take us both?” Gojo wrapped a large hand around his chin and jaw, tilting his head round to look at him. Nanami nodded, his eyes fluttering shut as he curled the now three fingers just right.
The hand around his jaw slid down to his neck, squeezing hard.
“I said, do you think you can take us both?” Gojo's question was more of a command, a cold fire in his eyes that Satoru did not yet possess.
Nanami’s throat strained against the hand constricting it, vision starting to blur at the edges.
“Gojo-sama.” He tried, his voice ruined. “Please, I need both. I need you both inside me.”
Satisfied, Gojo loosened his grip, rubbing the sides of his neck gently before running his hand through his own hair, pushing errant white strands out of his eyes.
“Good boy. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” He grinned.
Nanami collapsed onto Satoru’s chest, finding himself rewarded with a chaste kiss to the temple and strong arms wrapped around his shoulders, hands wandering the corded plains his back.
“When do I get so cruel?” Satoru mused.
Gojo shrugged, “Probably when you realised how much your dear Kento gets off on it. He’s a real glutton for punishment. You should see the type of shit you two get up to in the future.”
With that, Gojo replaced his fingers with the blunt tip of his cock, pushing the head in with one thrust.
Nanami gripped onto Satoru as he tried his best to relax around the intrusion.
Despite his best efforts, Gojo’s fingers did in no way prepare him properly for the sheer size of his cock. Taking one was more than enough, two at once may have genuinely been the end for Nanami.
His mouth hung open in a silent scream as the burn gave him whiplash, trapped on a knife edge between pain and pleasure. Gojo hadn’t stopped moving, feeding his cock into him inch by inch until he was stuffed full.
Once he had bottomed out, he stilled, rubbing circles into Nanami’s hips with his thumbs.
“You okay?” He asked, nuzzling at his neck and nibbling at the shell of his ear. His skin was rough with light stubble that Nanami hadn’t noticed before.
Nanami gulped down air. Both of them inside him at once felt like they were carving out room for themselves, reshaping him like he was nothing more than a glorified fleshlight for them to share.
He went weak at the thought, the last of the pain suddenly dissolving and the stretch became pleasurable. The constant, throbbing pressure against his prostate and the burn of having two, too-big cocks inside him drove him mad.
Which is probably what prompted him to say something as stupid as:
“Move. Please. I need you to fuck me.”
They shared a look over his shoulder before Gojo took the lead, pulling out slowly before thrusting back in, testing the waters.
The three moaned in unison, Gojo’s cock making everything so much tighter and slicker for Satoru, and Nanami could barely hold back from finishing too soon.
Gojo’s rhythm picked up, and Satoru started to move too, his hips bucking tentatively. Gojo wrapped an arm around Nanami’s shoulders and pulled him up so his back was flush to his strong, hairy chest.
“Fuck.” Satoru’s voice cracked as he took in the obvious bulge of their cocks protruding from Nanami’s stomach. He placed a hand over it, feeling his own cock through layers of Nanami, shifting slightly with each thrust from Gojo behind him.
Something wet hit Satoru’s wrist. When he glanced up to Nanami’s face, head thrown back over Gojo’s shoulder, contorted in sheer ecstasy, he couldn’t tell if it was drool or tears. Either way, the telltale coil of his second orgasm tightened low in his gut.
“Baby, you’re perfect.” He whispered, the words ripped straight from his heart.
“Can you see us?” Gojo asked, tilting Nanami’s head down to look at his distended stomach.
It was too much for Nanami, in the best possible way. He had never seen his body like this before, never felt like this before. Everything was too hot, too big, too good. He had been taken right up to his absolute limit and he couldn’t thank the two of them enough.
“I’m gonna come!” He wailed, his arms scrabbling for anything to hold on to as his climax hit him like a freight train. One hand flew behind him, gripping the soft hairs at the nape of Gojo’s neck as he fucked into him with now reckless abandon. His other fumbled around until Satoru laced his fingers through his own, holding him tight, tethering him to reality.
He clenched around them like a vice as his orgasm swept him away, his whole body superheated. He came with a cry, his cock painting Satoru’s chest white - completely untouched. Sparks danced across his skin and he trembled, falling apart between them as they held him through it. Fucked him through it.
Satoru came when Nanami did, adding more of his come to his hole. Mercifully, Gojo wasn’t too far behind.
The older man practically growled as he flooded Nanami’s spent hole, biting hard on his shoulder and neck, leaving angry claims in his wake. He, like Satoru, kept thrusting until he couldn’t anymore, until his senses were sharp and his body screamed at him for mercy. Nanami’s too.
By the time Gojo finally pulled out, Nanami was barely clinging on to consciousness. The promise of a long night’s rest was too alluring for his heavy limbs to possibly decline.
“Hold him there.” Gojo instructed, his voice husky and dry, before pulling his phone out.
Nanami grumbled as big hands held his hips up, his back arched and his sensitive hole on full display as spurts of cum spilled out of him.
He whimpered, a ruined mess of a noise.
“Hope you two don’t mind.” Gojo continued, his words accompanied by a flash and a shutter.
If Nanami had any substance left as a human being, he may have been able to get hard again at the realisation Gojo was taking pictures of him like a conquest. Showing him off like a trophy.
How much sex did they have in the future for him to know almost every single fantasy and kink he’d ever enjoyed?
“Who am I kidding, you’re me and you’re my husband’s younger self. I know you perverts love this shit.” He bellowed a laugh, seemingly physically unaffected from their tryst while both Satoru and Nanami slumped boneless on the mattress, that special word floating in circles around their minds.
Gojo petted Nanami’s ass once, permission, before disappearing into the bathroom. And Nanami took it as such, collapsing in a heap on top of Satoru, who had the audacity to make a noise of complaint.
“‘M not that heavy,” Nanami grumbled, swatting at him mildly.
“You’re enormous.”
Gojo returned, water bottles and a damp washcloth in hand and cleaned Nanami up as best he could with how wholly uncooperative he was being.
Nanami was drifting in and out of sleep, barely aware of his surroundings. He didn’t feel Satoru practically shoving him off so he could sit up to drink water, didn’t hear when Gojo left and didn’t return. He was floating on a cloud in a different dimension. One where he had no back pain and wouldn’t need to ice his ass to sit down which would no doubt be his reality in the morning.
Satoru stroked Nanami’s cheek, brushing soft blond hair out of his eyes as he slept.
“I got us pastries. We can have them for breakfast,” He whispered against sandy strands. “And while we eat I’ll tell you how much I love you.”
He managed to wrangle the duvet out from underneath the sleeping lump, throwing it over him as best he could before sliding in next to him.
He stretched once, languid and feline, listening to the satisfying pops of his spine.
With a jolt, Satoru suddenly remembered something. He bolted upright and shook Nanami awake, who was dragged back to consciousness flailing with an undignified yell.
“Please never call me Daddy,” Gojo said, his eyes practically glowing in the darkness.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Nanami grumbled, his own eyes shut tight as he flopped back down onto the pillows, pulling Gojo’s arm over his shoulder and tucking himself gently in for the night.