Chapter Text
“Then who will?”
It settles in the air between them like Infinity. Ask Satoru what he means by it - fuck if he knows. The question is charged with so much it's ironically empty of any substance. There’s no answer and there’s no point in asking, he’s just stalling.
Like Infinity, he slows down the onslaught of emotions because he’s sure it might as well fucking kill him. So, they float around him, unable to penetrate his thick skull and leave any damage. Satoru wonders if anyone besides Suguru can see them.
Suguru looks at him like he counts each one and assesses the combat potential. They stare at each other in a familiar stalemate and despite having Six Eyes - Suguru is the one always winning in a staredown. Suguru's heavy stares can make Satoru self-conscious just enough to apologize, make him aware just enough to shut up, and, as of recently - make him feel way too much. Much more than ‘just enough’.
Like now. Now, under the weight of Suguru's searching gaze, Satoru feels so much it’s not enough. He soaks in the warmth of the palm on his cheek and wants more, he bathes in the heat of their bodies pressed against each other and knows it can be hotter, it should be. Satoru wants to get closer, push deeper, press harder, hold stronger, touch more, more, more, more. There’s an insatiable need of a damn maniac embedded into his whole being and Satoru’s greed is always far, far fucking greater than his fear.
Which must somehow show on his face because Suguru suddenly frowns for a moment. His probing gaze shifts to something different, something new flashes in the depth of his pupils. Satoru can’t catch it. He’s fast but Suguru is faster - closes his eyes shut tight, takes a deep breath. Even though Satoru is the one clearly losing, it’s Suguru who looks defeated once their gazes lock on each other again.
“I know I’m asking too much of you right now, but don’t you dare misunderstand this,” Suguru warns and leans in.
Wow.
It’s… It’s new, a foreign warm touch on his lips. It feels nice. And soft. Suguru’s lips are surprisingly soft. But they press against his own with force, kind of impatiently even.
“That’s what you want, yes? Why so meek now?” Suguru whispers, taunts, into the kiss, bites his lower lip. “Afraid?”
That asshole.
Satoru bites his lip in retaliation, he doesn’t know how to kiss but he watched enough porn and he’s a natural at everything anyway. So, he pries Suguru’s mouth open and pushes his tongue inside.
Wow.
It’s wet. So much better than a press of skin on skin. It’s wet and it’s fucking awesome. Satoru starts to explore each corner of Suguru’s mouth with the diligence he rarely shows - runs his tongue over Suguru’s teeth, licks the palate, catches the taste of mint.
Suguru buries his fingers in the short hairs on Satoru’s nape and brings them closer, deepening the kiss. Their noses bump awkwardly, the glasses are in the way. Satoru annoyedly takes them off, tilts his head and now it’s perfect – he licks into Suguru’s mouth with the excitement of launching into a fight with him.
Thrilling. It’s mind-blowingly thrilling, to hear their messy breathing, be so close, get Suguru so impatient that his kiss feels almost mean.
Scratch that, Suguru is mean now. If Satoru wants to twirl their tongues - Suguru only pushes his deeper, if Satoru wants to lick his lip - Suguru bites on his tongue and scratches his nape in a warning. Whatever Satoru wants to try - Suguru makes it his own way.
What the fuck.
Satoru breaks the kiss.
“Why do you-”
Suguru shuts him up with his mouth. He pushes him back but keeps their lips locked as they stumble til Satoru is the one pinned against the counter. He hisses as the edge digs into his spine but Suguru traps him further with a nasty grip and full-body press.
“Want me to spoil you as usual?” his condescending chuckle vibrates through their chests and Satoru so fucking wants to get spoiled, yes, fucking exactly.
“Earn it.” Suguru whispers sweetly and his lips are on Satoru’s again.
There’s more weight to his words than a bitey remark, definitely, but when his mouth is kissing him and not scolding him, Satoru has a very short attention span. None, to be honest.
So he welcomes Suguru’s mean kiss with eagerness, discovers that he can actually use his hands to touch naked skin and that’s it, that seals the deal. He can touch Suguru’s shoulders and grab his biceps and not that he’s so socially aware but having Suguru’s tongue in his mouth surely gives him permission to scratch his abs and knead his muscles.
That’s exactly what Satoru does. Suguru feels great everywhere. His mouth, his skin, his body, fucking everything is great to the touch, fucking everything about Suguru is great, annoying asshole just has to be perfect.
Perfect in the way he teases with gentle licks just to deepen the kiss in the next moment, in the way he keeps Satoru in place with a sure grip, in every goddamn way. Suguru Geto is as fascinating now as the first time Satoru fought him.
It’s a brief, lost thought but Satoru remembers now, their first fight, right. The bruises Suguru left on him were huge, blacks and blues and hues of magenta blooming on his skin. Satoru didn’t know bruises could be like that; on others - sure, why not, but he never thought his skin was just the same - pale and weak and turned into a purple galaxy of collapsed blood vessels under a strong punch.
It’s their first kiss. Suguru will leave a vile reminder about it too, something mesmerizingly painful, Satoru's sure of it.
Suguru licks his lip and he forgets how much things can hurt right away.
Nothing hurts on a battlefield, it’s adrenaline and thrill and sheer hunger and greed for more. They kiss like they fight and Satoru knows Suguru is holding his punches. It’s just wrong - the roaming hands, Suguru’s hold on his nape, all of it is too much and yet not enough. Satoru’s greed only grows in its intensity and he’s about to fucking earn its satisfaction.
He thrusts his hips forward, blind experiment, but he moans as his erection gets just a bit of friction. Suguru’s hard too, he can feel their clothed cocks pressed against each other and it shouldn’t be this hot but it is. God, it’s head-spinning.
“Don’t do that,” Suguru reprimands, grabbing Satoru’s hip and stilling him in place.
“But-”
Suguru digs his fingers deeper and Satoru stutters on a gasp. Pathetic.
“But I-” he tries again, panting into Suguru’s mouth.
But I want more, you never hold your punches with me, I want you to-
“You don’t,” Suguru deadpans, grip changing to a caress of fingers getting under his t-shirt. “And it’s okay,” he puts his palm on Satoru’s abs, gently anchoring him.
With all due fucking respect, can he just stop with this patronizing act!?
Satoru narrows his eyes, his ego is hurt so he looks at Suguru with all the intent as he thrusts his hips again in sweet defiance. This time he makes sure to drag his erection against Suguru’s, watching like a hawk for any reaction.
Suguru’s jaws tighten, he purses his lips and glares. Exactly.
“I imagined you sucking me off,” Satoru declares and rocks his hips again, “yesterday,” he bumps their foreheads, hot breaths mixing in narrow space, another thrust, “I didn’t care if you heard me because I was too busy imagining my dick in your throat.”
The palm on his abs doesn’t really stop him from moving again, it’s more of a grounding presence on his abdomen, Suguru is too focused on just staring at him. He lost just a bit of his composure but it’s enough for Satoru to see a mix of confusion and anger, probably, or fear, or hope, fuck if he knows but Suguru definitely reacted.
Satoru grins in triumph – rendering Suguru speechless in that way works too. And he really fucking wants to get off, rub their cocks again, kiss more, leave bruises on Suguru’s biceps, bite him, touch him…
“Ask me.”
What?
“What?”
Suguru snorts, whatever mix of emotions he experienced just now - it’s all buried deep down under his little fake smile. He’s now the one to rock his hips forward, forcing Satoru to bite back another moan.
“I can get on my knees for you,” Suguru muses, calculative smirk and foxy eyes as his palm goes lower. “I see you noticed I’m fairly good at swallowing stuff, must be curious how it feels, huh, Satoru?” his fingers trace the waistband and Satoru’s breath hitches.
He gulps audibly. When he opens his mouth - nothing, he just gapes like a fish.
He would be a pretty fish, come to think of it. A koi fish or maybe a betta fish. They need an aquarium, definitely. What was the question again?
Suguru tilts his head as if expecting an answer. When nothing happens, his smile widens.
“Go on, just ask me nicely.”
Right. Ask him. He asked to ask him. That’s bullshit, why ask to ask? Isn’t Suguru supposed to be a walking encyclopedia? Not very bright of him, this thing.
“I…” Satoru starts but no, he can’t shut up ever but now he physically can’t conjure words.
“Yes, Satoru, I’m listening,” Suguru encourages him like a child as if he doesn’t fucking know that his fingers slipping under the waistband are distracting.
That his body is distracting, his eyes are distracting, the way he talks and smiles and chides him with that sweet voice is distracting.
Focus, Satoru, he checks himself, it shouldn’t be hard, you said far worse things than “please suck me off.”
Just say it, ask him, it’s super-easy, bat your lashes and pout your lips and it’ll work, Suguru literally can’t help but spoil you, it works a-a-a-ll the time.
Satoru takes a deep breath.
“Plea-” he tries again, still can’t squeeze out those few little words.
Suguru is all but a picture of a saint's curiosity, lifting his eyebrows to encourage him, so annoyingly lofty, so fucking “mature”. His face is nice anyway. All right proportions and high cheekbones and narrow lips, he’s conventionally handsome, and Satoru loves to stare at him. Other people do too which surely helps with the whole act because his perfect Suguru is…
A hypocrite.
Suguru is a hypocrite, and a liar. A highly skilled one at that. He’s the worst self-righteous, self-important dick out there, he’s a vile deceiver and the great fucking pretender. He’s condescending, he protects you mostly because he thinks you’re an incompetent weakling, just wraps it into a nice moral argument with a pretty philosophy bow on top. No matter how hard he tries to fool everyone, Suguru doesn’t have a heart of gold, not even fucking close. He’s arrogant to a fault and he thinks he’s so damn smart, thinks he’s better than anyone.
And he’s right. He is better than anyone. Suguru is the best person in the whole world simply because he’s the one and only Satoru wants to be around forever.
Huh. He is the one and only.
It’s true, isn’t it?
Probably, feels like it.
But why does he think of it now? Truly not the time and place, he was in the process of begging for a blowjob and-
Wait. Rewind that.
He, Satoru Gojo, was in the process of begging for a blowjob..?
It takes him a few seconds to digest this revelation. When he looks at Suguru’s serene face and polite little smile, Satoru just can’t fucking believe it happened again. He fell into the same goddamn trap, again. He still doesn’t know the rules and Suguru was good enough to warn him but bitch enough to still take advantage of it.
That asshole!!!
Satoru’s head starts to hurt. At first it was all that and now this? He can’t lose again, exactly in the same way, it’s- It’s just- it’s overwhelming. And the moment he registers it - the dam is broken.
Everything is too much, the room is too bright, the air is too hot, his heart races to catch up with his panting, and, for the love of god, even his dick fucking hurts too because apparently he can get this fucking pent up and it’s all Suguru’s fault and he should fucking take care-
“For fuck’s sake, you’re such a bitch!” Satoru blows up with all the frustration and kisses Suguru right after.
He really needs a reason to close his eyes right now.