Work Text:
A year later…
A pink-haired man walks through tall, pink grass to reach a large bush full of ripe fruit. Grabbing each one, he tests them with a light squeeze to see which ones are in best quality before placing them into his basket.
The grass rustles far-away, twitching, then standing still. The man keeps picking fruits, ignorant of the danger behind him.
Something creeps through the grass silently, knowing one wrong move would alert its prey.
It was right behind the man now, his back turned to it. The thing slowly stands to its full height in silence until it looms over the man entirely.
A head covered in flickering eyes first peaks over the grass, where long ghastly limbs attached to its skinny torso shows up next, covered in more eyes. Its gaping maw hangs low like it was broken before opening impossibly wider to reveal a black oozing mess that sucked in any light as it raises its arms for the kill and roars.
Its cry was knives scratching jaggedly on glass, the sound grating enough to make anyone fall to their knees in pain and cover their ears to stop them from bleeding. A screech intended to make its prey unable to move from the intense stabbing pain attacking their brain and ears, paralyzing them until the monster would end their life, their last and only capable reaction would be that of terror, knowing they could do nothing to stop their demise.
Yūji sighs.
“Hi, Gojō.”
The thing stops mid-way through its screeching. Unbothered, Yūji skims over the unbroken skin of another fruit, setting it in his almost full basket after confirming no blemishes.
In a transition that lasts two blinks, the nightmarish monstrosity turned into something that almost looked like a man. Almost; if it weren’t for the antlers, scales, and strange clothing, with a beauty that surpassed all understanding.
A “man” who is having a good laugh.
Once he's done, Gojō closed the short distance between them by lazily throwing an arm around Yūji’s shoulder.
“Aww, don't tell me that doesn’t work on you anymore.”
“That never worked on me,” Yūji says, petulant as he turns to Gojō leaning over him. “The only reason it ‘worked’ before was because of your screaming; nobody appreciates someone screaming in their ear.”
With his arm still around Yūji’s shoulder, Gojō swipes a fruit from his basket and steps away to bite into it. The one in Gojō’s hand was red and decorated with brown seeds all over, like a strawberry. Except, it was in the crude shape of a star.
They're sweet and juicy, a nice afternoon snack. Or a good use for pie filling, which is what Yūji's planning for.
One fruit wouldn’t be a hindrance but this is Gojō they're talking about, and Yūji needs all the fruit he picked in order to make a dent in the other’s appetite. It’s why he has two other baskets already full on the grass.
Yūji doesn’t mind that one fruit, but he does stop Gojō from grabbing another with a slap to the wrist. Gojō yelps, then holds his wounded hand to his chest, pouting at Yūji with big blue eyes.
But Yūji isn't falling for that again so he shakes his head chidingly.
“No eating until dinner. You’ll spoil your appetite— yes, I know that’s impossible,” Yūji quickly adds right after with a raised hand, stopping Gojō who had opened his mouth to say exactly that.
Yūji points at him. “Still. No snacking before dinner,” he firmly says before picking up the two heavy baskets on the ground with one hand each. “Now help me carry these or you’re not getting anything at all.”
Gojō grabs the thick wooden handles, easily carrying them yet letting out a frustrated huff all while Yūji carries the third one and starts walking back in the direction of their home.
Gojō stands there, glowering at the baskets in his hands. “Why do I have to work? You’re the one who wants to cook, not me…”
“What was that?” Yūji calls out far ahead, ears sharp.
Gojō starts jogging to catch up. “No—thing!”
The planet was pink, from the grass to the flowers to the trees. Gojō had picked this one out for him because “it goes well with Yūji.” But Yūji had only agreed to move there once Gojō disposed of the previous planet properly and humanely.
Which Gojō did. He made sure of that.
So now, Yūji lives here.
It’s been more than a year since… since he met Gojō.
There’s been a number of changes in his life; too many to count but if he had to start somewhere, one big change was clothes.
Which seemed minor compared to everything else but it was primarily because they were incredibly different from what he used to wear. Don’t get Yūji wrong; he wasn’t picky with what he wore. As long as it was clean and reasonably fashionable, he was fine with it.
Gojō, on the other hand, loathed jeans.
Or any modern clothing that was not easy to take off in one take. Which translated to him not wanting Yūji wearing any of that “crap” either and instead, “gifting” him with better clothes to wear.
At first, Gojō had only brought back dresses. Which Yūji thanked for but consistently turned down because dresses weren’t exactly his style.
Then Gojō found out about the kind of clothes people would wear in his home country. The traditional kind. Gojō cooed at the way Yūji looked in them, but the initial clothes he brought back were too heavy and extravagant so Yūji — when he realized Gojō wasn’t budging on giving any other clothes— had asked for more casual wear. After that, he gave Yūji different styles for him to wear, some of them meant for women but by that point, he didn’t have the heart to bring it up to Gojō, who was so excited to show off what he got him. So that's what he wore nowadays.
And Yūji did agree, that they looked beautiful, but he felt awkward in them. It wasn’t that he disliked them, it’s just that wearing them everyday made him feel like the protagonist of an old historical drama his grandpa would watch.
Well, if he wanted to be more accurate, he was more like the protagonist of a horror movie— scratch that, the protagonist of a bizarre cooking show, one where he was the chef and Gojō was the customer who never left because he never stops eating.
Yūji didn’t mind cooking. He enjoyed it actually, a skill he picked up as a kid that later made it easy to make friends in college, where students survived only off of instant ramen. He liked sharing the food he made and he knew he was a good cook because people would often tell him that.
He couldn’t cook on the other planet. With dead vegetation and no resources, there was nothing he could cook. There wasn’t anything he could do there which is why— if he had to pick between the two— he was glad to live here. Despite no longer having to eat, he still did so anyway, and it was nice learning new recipes with the foreign fruits, vegetables and plants here.
After getting the hang of which ones he could boil, fry and puree, he was able to finally cook properly. Which is what he did one day, when Gojō came back from feeding.
Before, Gojō would watch him work in the kitchen from the dining table, blue eyes never leaving him. That day, when Yūji started setting down small dishes instead of tossing burnt food, Gojō perked up.
He set down the main dish in the middle— ginger chicken hotpot. And after saying gratitude, he was ready to eat when he saw Gojō staring at him, hands still at his side under the table.
“Aren’t you going to eat?” Yūji asked. Don’t tell me he’s picky about his food.
Gojō blinked. “...Eat,” he repeated.
Yūji frowned. “Yes? Eat? You know, that thing you do everyday? With your mouth?”
But Gojō only stared at him a bit longer before looking down at the dishes around him with the same blank stare.
Gojō was…someone who ate. A lot. A lot, a lot. And instead of traditional food like steak or udon, he preferred his food when it was still alive.
Gojō was something with powers that went beyond magnitude and into impossibility, with a never-ending hunger that feasted on the greatest quantity given in any universe— life.
It didn’t stop there either. It wasn’t enough to drain life from one universe, he needed to keep eating so he went to other dimensions, and did the same there. He feasted on man, invading their planets, before moving on to greater things like stars whose size overshadowed a thousand suns. At the end of each one, he made sure nothing was left behind save for an empty and cold universe.
So to see that very same being stare at the hotpot before him like it had grown legs, was, well, somewhat amusing.
Come to think of it, he’s never seen Gojō eat in front of him, although knowing the basic gist of how that works, he doesn’t think he ever wants to. So then… has he never eaten homemade food?
Was this his first time eating actual food?
“Here,” Yūji said, grabbing Gojō’s attention. “Watch me.”
Yūji tapped the ends of his chopsticks against the table before grabbing one of the meatballs. He placed it in his mouth and chewed, closing his eyes at the taste— it was good!
He opened them back up to see if Gojō was following along.
Gojō stared, then with his own set of his chopsticks, copied Yūji. Squinted an eye at the meatball before chucking it into his mouth.
His eyebrows shot up and for a second, his pupils had turned to slits before dilating. It made Yūji think of a cat.
But after one or two seconds of silence, Yūji was starting to worry if perhaps he was suffering a reaction, the possibility that aliens may have food allergies starting to form until, in a flash, Gojō had picked up another meatball and tossed it into his mouth.
His expression was that of that familiar brightness one only gets around delicious food. He made a sound of appreciation and Yūji smiled, glad to see he liked it.
By the end of dinner, it was Gojo who finished most of the food he prepared.
There was a change in his behavior after that. The “pranks” became less frequent. He was talking to Yūji, not at him. His staring problem didn’t go away but it felt more like he was actually seeing Yūji properly, instead of just looking.
It was also around that time that Gojō changed the color of his left eye.
When Yūji had lost his left eye, Gojō had given him one under the pretense that it was for him to see again when in reality, it was a way for Gojō to keep surveillance on him, since he could see what Yūji saw through that eye. Yūji could never tell when he was doing it so he learned to pretend that Gojō wasn’t using it. Even though he clearly was, when he’d ask Yūji about his day with questions that he wouldn’t know to ask unless he was watching.
Originally blue, like its predecessor, Gojō had suddenly walked up to Yūji a week after they ate and flicked him on the forehead. Which had hurt but more importantly, after a short nod at his work, Gojō had told him to check out a mirror. Yūji went to the bathroom to see what he did.
His eye was back to the brown it initially was, before it had ruptured. Sometimes however, Gojō would tell him that it would shine curiously in the light; that it looked “amazing” when it did. Yūji saw this for himself one day, with a mirror in his hand while he was outside. He found it interesting but other than that, he didn’t think about his eye for too long.
Yūji was reading a comic book, or trying to, anyway. It was hard to focus with someone gnawing on your cheek.
They were out in the plains, far from the cabin, for what was supposed to be a relaxing outing. Yūji wore simple hakama over a light red kimono, sitting on the grass cross-legged and was reading when, after a few minutes, Gojō sat down behind him and curled his legs around Yūji’s waist before proceeding to take his right cheek between his teeth.
Luckily, by now, Yūji’s learned that it wasn’t from some hidden desire to eat him but a quirk of his instead, one that Gojō developed after a few weeks of meeting Yūji.
Yūji has gotten mostly used to it by now but it still weirded him out whenever Gojō did it, since he never knew if Gojō was going to go for a bite. He hasn’t so far but still, it was hard not to stay alert around those shark-like teeth of his.
Wounds rarely happened but when they did, Gojō did it with the intention of knowing that Yūji would heal fast from his newfound regeneration. Yūji still didn’t appreciate it when he did so without warning him.
But aside from stretching the skin, Gojō was careful to not dig his teeth in too sharply; it reminded Yūji of when he played with the neighborhood dogs as a kid, putting his fingers in their mouth where their canines would nibble playfully but never actually harm him.
Just as he was thinking that, Gojō bit down a little harder so he could pull his cheek and Yūji made a noise of disagreement from the slight pain.
“Gojō,” Yūji whined, bothered at his skin being stretched out.
His gaze lifted from the comic book to Gojō, noticing his pupils had dilated from zoning out.
Like the first time they ate together, it made him look like a cat.
Yūji was starting to notice that a lot of things he did made him resemble a cat.
Or a gremlin.
Gojō paused in his chewing and looked over.
“How long do you plan on doing that?” Yūji asked, his speech a bit awkward with his cheek being stretched.
Gojō took his mouth off and licked absentmindedly over the nicked cheek; Yūji fought back a blush but let himself scowl after lightly touching his cheek and feeling indentations, skin sticky from saliva.
“It’s fun so, for as long as I want,” Gojō answered, and went back to what he was doing, this time nibbling on Yūji’s neck.
Yūji grimaced, wanting to get him off but knew there was no chance of that happening. He tried to get back to reading his comics, focusing on the pictures. With most of the comic books Gojō brought back being printed in alien languages, it was all he could do to study the subtext and get the gist of the story that way.
He winced when teeth bit into him too sharply, tsking loudly afterwards. That was going to leave a mark. He tried distracting himself once more and looked over the pages he was on. There was a worm-like monster chasing the protagonist, reminding Yūji of his own monster that was hanging over his shoulder.
An idea popped into his head.
He slipped out of Gojō’s hold, moving away, already expecting the scowl Gojō was giving him.
“Hey. Remember how we first met?” Yūji asked, sitting away, facing him sideways on the pink grass.
Gojō looked at him like he was an idiot. “Yes?”
“You said you… kept me around since no one ever saw the ‘real’ you and lived, except me.”
Yūji held up his comic book with the double-page spread of the monster terrorizing a city.
“Do you think I could see it again? The quote-unquote ‘real you’?”
Gojō was examining the page Yūji held up but at the question, he perked up in an instant.
“Absolutely not.”
Yūji deflated. “Why not?”
Gojō shook his head adamantly. “You got lucky the first time. It’s amazing your mind survived seeing it once but again? Not happening.” Gojō frowned. “It’d suck losing you after all that work I did.”
Yūji went flat-lipped, unimpressed that Gojō was seemingly bummed out by the prospect of losing Yūji the same way a child would feel losing an expensive toy. He sighed.
“So I really can’t see it again?”
“Nope.” A small pause. “Why do you want to anyway?”
Yūji shrugged. Honestly, he had mostly asked in order to distract Gojō but his curiosity was effectively piqued now, and he really wanted to see this supposed “mind-breaking” form of Gojō. Well, after phrasing it like that, perhaps he shouldn’t… actually, he kinda still wanted to see.
“I thought it’d be cool,” Yūji replied, setting his book on the ground and leaning back on his hands. “It’s not everyday I get to see a god-like alien shapeshift.”
Aside from the first day they met where Gojō had masqueraded as a human, his appearance has stayed the same— the one he had now, with all his strange features that Yūji had quickly grown used to.
“How come you’re always in this one, anyway?”
Gojō relaxed, copying Yūji’s posture before answering. “Convenience. Plus, don’t lie to me that you’re not captivated by this face of mine,” Gojō said, battering his eyelashes to which Yūji didn’t bother dignifying with a response, besides an eyeroll. But then Gojō considered what Yūji asked for a little longer.
“Actually… I could show you another form of mine…” Gojō said, thinking out loud. Then smirked at Yūji. “But it still might be too much for your feeble human mind.”
Yūji stuck out his tongue. “I can handle it.”
“Yeah? You’re not going to come crying to me, saying ‘you regret it’?”
“Nope.”
Gojō grinned all razor-sharp teeth. “Figured. Alright.”
He stood up and stepped a short distance away. Eyes glowing blue, brimming with restrained excitement.
“Don’t scream, Yūji.”
Yūji frowned. “Don’t wha—”
The ground shook violently and Yūji cried out as he fell forward on all fours, nails digging into the soil to keep himself steady. The world trembled, his vision blurring as vibrations ran through his teeth and limbs, making him crouch lower so he wouldn’t fall over. But after a few jarring seconds, the tremors stopped and Yūji’s body was left tingling from the shaking. Opening a tightly shut eye, he noticed the world was spinning a bit. He shook his head to regain his bearings and sat up properly, opening both eyes.
He wasn’t entirely surprised to see Gojō wasn’t where he stood but it still confused him so he looked around before turning to look behind himself since that’s where Gojō liked to hide, unsuspectingly, so he could scare Yūji.
Six large eyes stared down at him.
Yūji’s eyes nearly bulged out of his skull at the incredibly colossal creature that stood in front of him, its head hung low to gaze at Yūji.
To say it was enormous was an understatement, this thing’s head was easily double the size of their cabin.
Its head was similar to that of a snake, more pronounced, and covered in white gleaming scales that had an iridescent hue to them in the light of the high morning sun. Long white antler-like horns protruded from the top of its head to the sides, overshadowing the largest of trees on this planet. Its neck was long and covered in blue and white fur, fur that traveled down to a much longer crouching serpentine body, all over its legs and back, its back where massive white wings in six sprouted from it. Peeking through the fur, there were huge eyes sprouting all over the creature’s sides and chest, up to its neck in varying sizes and it was then, when he noticed that they were all a familiar blue that Yūji realized this creature was, in fact, Gojō.
It opened its mouth into what could almost be considered a smile and Yūji’s heart nearly stopped at all the long blade-like teeth that spanned inside, noting how each tooth was taller than him.
Yūji yelped, not noticing the huge tail that had snaked behind to wrap around his waist, lifting him into the air and depositing him on the creature’s nose.
His stomach lurched from the sudden change in elevation as the creature raised its head, trapping Yūji on its nose. When it stopped, Yūji paused to make sure it wouldn’t move again before carefully shuffling to the side to look over the edge.
He was stories high off the ground, the trees small from how far up he was. One wrong move and he would end up as a mess of red and bone on the ground below.
The wind was colder up here as it swept over his hair and skin, the realization of how high up he was clicking as he stared over the snout of a leviathan.
“Woah.”
A low growl that vibrated under his hands and knees brought Yūji’s attention to the six glowing blue eyes staring him down, the emotion in them inscrutable.
Someone reasonable would usually scream. Or panic or something similar when confronted with something that was the size of a mountain. With raw power radiating in waves that flaunted the sheer difference in power between it and those inferior, warning them that what they stood in front of, was something beyond them.
Well, Yūji did feel a slight sense of apprehension, mostly for being in a new situation, but the word “dangerous” didn’t come up. In fact, while his heart was racing, all he thought was that this was actually, totally—
“Awesome!”
The creature went still.
Yūji stood up, careful to keep his footing steady but there was excitement running through his veins because how many people can say they stood on the nose of a cosmic god?
Yūji stumbled, letting out a “Woah!” from how slippery the smooth scales under him were but a quick jerk forward by Gojō kept him on his feet. He giggled in spite of himself and stared back at the other, or as best as he could when he had only two eyes while the latter had six.
“You look so cool, Gojō!”
Gojō didn’t know how to respond. He wasn’t sure what reaction he was expecting, maybe one of fear or disgust or something that told him he needed to change back, where he would then say “I told you so” afterwards. To think Yūji would actually enjoy this. Yeah, he shouldn’t have been surprised.
Yūji stepped forward and placed a hand, small and miniscule, on the bridge separating his eyes. He placed his other hand down and started to climb and Gojō, realizing what he was doing, lifted his face so Yūji had a more parallel path. Yūji yipped at the sudden shift but kept going, until he was at the base of Gojō’s head where the fur started, between the antlers. He sat back down, crouching to keep his center of gravity low and keeping a firm grip on the fur below. Then threw an arm out, pointing a determined finger out.
“March!”
He got a huff in return and Yūji’s giddy expression fell into a bashful one.
“Please?”
For a moment, he thought Gojō didn’t hear him or more likely, was ignoring him. But after some consideration, Gojō decided to do him one better. He was excited to see how Yūji was going to react to this.
He spread his wings properly— enormous and long— jumped forward and launched.
Yūji screamed, nearly falling off but he gripped hard onto the locks of fur he was holding onto, keeping his body flat as much as he could as they ascended into the sky. When they were sufficiently high up, Gojō stopped and Yūji, trembling, chanced a glance over to the side.
He couldn’t even see the trees from up here.
Then the sound of large, flapping wings went silent and Yūji saw that Gojō had indeed stopped flying. Gojō’s silhouette was dark against the sun, his six wings spread majestically for one glorious moment. Until gravity took effect.
“Oh no.”
Yūji went back to screaming as they slowly fell down before accelerating towards the face of the planet. His stomach dropped as the air whipped past him, Yūji holding on for dear life as they plummeted nose down to their fate. The ground came up fast but right as Gojō got too close, Yūji bracing for the grisly impact, he suddenly spread his wings once more and dove up. Whiplash shot through Yūji as the two sped once more into the sky. This time, Yūji was ready and gave out a long whooping cry.
Gojō leveled out and slithered across the sky all while Yūji laughed to himself, unable to contain the pure joy that lit up inside his chest at flying, crying out excitedly as Gojō dove down again.
For the rest of the morning, Yūji stayed above Gojō’s head where he watched the world whiz by him in pink, all while Gojō kept him second-guessing on what he was going to do next, sometimes by flying high up before plunging down, sometimes letting Yūji enjoy the view of the pink sky, and sometimes catching him off guard by spiraling up into a loop.
When it was time for lunch, Gojō came back down to the ground, slowly, to let Yūji savor his last moments of flying.
They landed with a heavy boom. Yūji slid down his neck like a slide, feeling like a kid on Christmas as he sped down and landed on the other’s back, where the other’s tail then came back to gently wrap around his waist and set him down on the grass below.
This time, there was no theatrics and instead, in a blink, Gojō transformed back to the form Yūji was used to. He hovered in the air before floating back down, feet delicately touching the grass.
Yūji ran up to him, full of energy as he stood before him, lightly jumping up and down on his heels. He was trembling from the leftover adrenaline rush, his hair spiking in every direction. He looks hilarious, Gojō thought blithely.
“I can’t believe you thought I’d be scared! That was amazing, we have to do that again, can we do it again?” Yūji said all at once, shaking his fists in front of him.
Gojō shook his head in pretend exasperation. “You really weren’t scared of me, were you?”
“I mean, yeah, you were kinda scary-cute—”
“—Cute—?”
“—But like I said, it’s nothing I can’t handle. See?” Yūji knocked on his head with a fist. “I still got my sanity.” Then he stumbled a bit, still shaking, his legs suddenly weak. Gojō instinctively reached an arm out but put it back down once he saw Yūji rebalance himself with his hands out. Yūji stood up properly like nothing happened, rocking back on his heels and smiling brightly at Gojō.
“If you ever want to do this again, you have to let me know, because that was so damn cool!”
Yūji shook his hands out, the rush of riding a leviathan on its head likely going to stay with him for the rest of the day.
Gojō gave him a small, soft smile.
“...I’ll keep that in mind.”
Gojō was acting… kinder? Might be the best word for it. They were talking... the lack of choice in company made sure of that. But Gojō wasn’t entirely bad company.
Yūji was opening up, and so was Gojō, the two learning more about each other. It was easier now. The two could almost be considered friends.
Until one day, while Yūji was washing the dishes, the world suddenly changed on its axis before it went black and just like that, in an instant, he was somewhere else. Somewhere dark and freezing.
“Yūji!”
There, he saw Gojō waving at him and Yūji was finally able to notice that he was in space, floating next to Gojō, yet able to stand despite there being nothing beneath his feet.
“Wha—huh?!”
“Shh! You’re missing it.”
Yūji didn’t understand, lost in how he could see all the stars and nebulas around him but then he heard it.
His gaze tracked down to where a white claw pointed and the distant screams that followed.
A purple planet floated far away from them. Where wails of terror encompassed every part of its surface. Muffled but loud enough that Yūji could hear it, their pain reaching him in an endless symphony of countless voices.
The planet was turning gray, in different areas, and Yūji recognized it for what it was, remembering the last time he saw something similar; it was a sign of conquest and death.
“Yūji. Look!”
With a sick stomach, Yūji dragged his eyes from the spectacle and saw Gojō raise his arms high over his head where six large eyes winked into existence one by one. If Gojō had looked over, he would have seen Yūji’s expression and might have stopped.
Spheres flew from these eyes in multitudes, flying quickly through space and to their purple target below.
Each one was a floating eye that would grow in size as it neared the planet, until it was the size of a house, where the iris would split apart to reveal rows upon rows of hungry and eager teeth.
When the screams grew louder, Gojō looked proud of himself. He didn’t need to do any of this, his victory secured the moment he entered the dimension— where before it took weeks, an invasion now took mere days, if he was feeling particularly lazy. He was proud. He was excited; to share all of this with Yūji, all of him. The best part was that that wasn’t even his favorite trick. This was just an appetizer, for a greater show. And he was about to say this to Yūji when he turned to him. His smile dropped when he saw how pale Yūji was. And the nauseating horror that had washed over the other’s face.
“Stop.”
“What?”
“Stop this!” Yūji yelled, enraged. His eyes blazed with fire that Gojō hadn’t ever seen as Yūji spun around to face him. “Make it stop!”
“What— why?” Gojō asked, incredulous that this was the reaction he was receiving. Then Yūji stomped over and began hitting him on the chest, over and over.
“Take me back! Take me back now!”
Gojō teleported them back immediately. When he saw Yūji shaking, something stirred within himself. But before he could do anything about it, Yūji ran off and locked himself in the bedroom.
A long time ago, Yūji remembered asking his colleagues, just for fun — was there life beyond Earth?
He finally had an answer.
There was.
And they were slaughtered all the same.
It was a while before he spoke to Gojō again. He had shut himself off and no amount of prodding, asking (and even once threatening— which had only made the silence worse) did anything to fix the situation. Until, at last, with nothing left up his sleeve, Gojō marched up to Yūji while he was in the midst of collecting vegetables.
Yūji was the picture of calm, not a hint of fear in those golden eyes of his to be found anywhere.
Which was strange, Gojō thought, because Yūji should be scared and yet he wasn’t. Actually, if anyone was afraid, it was…
“I’m sorry.”
There was shock but to his credit, Yūji composed himself quickly. “For what?”
“For… bringing you along the last time I went out.”
It was even stranger to apologize, apologize to a human of all things but Gojō couldn’t bring himself to care. He was annoyed he had to do this at all but as he waited for Yūji’s response, any ire soon morphed into an emotion he couldn’t pin down until it hit him. He felt, for the first time, anxious.
Yūji stared at him for a moment longer but relaxed, and the smile he gave Gojō, as small as it was, was relieving.
Yūji then asked him to help him with gathering the rest of the vegetables and Gojō obeyed without complaint.
Gojō never brought him along again when he went out to eat and while it was frustrating (and a bit disappointing), he didn’t want to go back to that silence between them. He had grown used to hearing Yūji’s voice when he was here, days of being ignored making that very clear. It made him restless not being able to hear the constant bubbly chatter that would fill the air; the melodies he’d hear him sing in the kitchen or his laugh when Gojō cracked his jokes or his stories when they were together.
He was lucky. Yūji seemed to have forgiven him, and the two went back to the way they were, their progress continuing and Gojō was glad.
But while things were okay on Gojō’s end, Yūji realized something after having no one to talk to during those days. Something he was going to bring up soon.
After they came back with the three baskets, Yūji made dinner and while Gojō ate, he was busy baking a few pies out of the fruit he harvested this afternoon. He enjoyed cooking since it took his mind off other things but there was also nothing wrong with using Gojō’s sweet tooth as an incentive.
He’s accepted he wasn’t going to see his friends ever again. Fushiguro, Nobara, Yūta, Inumaki, Masamichi, Maki—
He pauses in washing the dishes, taking a second to breathe in deeply before continuing.
He’s made peace with that. Mostly. If it was for their sake, he was fine with it.
But he misses the company of others. Yūji was always a social butterfly. Meeting new people and making friends was a part of who he was, and for that to be taken away, for months on end with no other company besides…
It was taking a toll on him.
And while the planet was beautiful, it simply wasn’t enough. There was nothing to do here except chores, exercising, reading, and waiting for Gojō’s return whenever he left. So he’s asked Gojō about the prospect of letting him join his excursions— when he wasn’t eating— to meet other people. He’s been turned down flat every time he’s asked. So he tried compromising; Could he just watch from afar? Could he bring some animals to the planet? Could he at least have a pet? But time after time, Gojō turned him down, stubborn in his resolve.
Yūji wasn’t going to give up though. He had all the time in the world after all.
So he’s trying again today. He serves them both a slice, Gojō’s portion bigger than his, and sits down on the table, waiting for what he thought would be the best time to bring it up. If he could just explain that it wasn’t a bad idea, then maybe he’d have a chance. He stews over all the things he wanted to say, picking at his slice before setting it aside.
“Gojō.”
“Mmph,” Gojō grunts in acknowledgement, entirely focused on the pastry in his hand, cheeks full and a bit of red filling staining his lips. He’s eating his pie with a fork; Yūji had to teach him how to use his utensils after Gojō made a mess the first few times they ate together, when he’d use his hands and mouth… and sometimes, only his mouth and tongue, like a lizard.
He’s seated on the couch, eyes closed shut in pure delight after taking another bite. Which made Yūji sigh internally because that was going to go away right now.
“So, about what we talked about a while ago…”
“Which one?” Gojō asks, muffled through the food.
“About going out.”
Gojō stopped chewing. His eyes open to snap over to Yūji, Gojō swallowing his piece before turning to face him properly.
“I know you already said your piece but I’m not ready to drop this. Now hear me out,” he says, seeing the annoyed expression on Gojō. “Maybe not today or tomorrow, but if you could just think about it, I’d appreciate it,” he words carefully, wanting to be cooperative.
“On that note, I’d think a pet of some sort isn’t too unreasonable.” Yūji’s never had one before, but it wouldn’t be too hard. He has experience with taking care of the neighborhood strays in the past. “I’ll take care of everything too! You won’t have to lift a finger, I promise.”
“You don’t need a ‘pet’. Why do you keep asking for this? I’m around, aren’t I?” Gojō’s questions sounded more like demands, irritated eyes locked on Yūji.
“It’s not about you,” Yūji tries to reassure, “It’s just that it’d be nice to have something around here to keep me company.”
“You have me, that should be enough,” Gojō says, like it was obvious, clearly ready to drop this topic without listening to what else Yūji wanted to say. Yūji wasn’t finished though.
“I know that,” Yūji pressed, growing frustrated. “But, you’re not always here—”
Gojō set his plate down on the coffee table. “Not always, but usually. You’re strong, you can handle a few days without me.”
“It’s not about whether I can handle it or not, I miss being around others! I just—” Yūji takes a deep breath. “I just don’t understand why you’re so against the idea.”
“Because what I say is final, and that’s that.”
Yūji scowls at him. “I’m not a dog, Gojō. I’m not going to stay quiet just because you say so. That’s not how this works.”
“It is how it works for me. Stop asking me this, Yūji, I’m not going to change my mind.”
“And I’m not going to quit asking! I promise, you won’t have to do anything, and we’ll still spend time together—”
“I said, No.”
Yūji glares at him before looking away.
“...Excuse me.”
He gets up and marches over to his bedroom, his exit punctuated by a notably loud door slam.
Gojō looks back, half-tempted to storm in but knowing Yūji, that’d just make the situation worse.
His gaze falls back to the pie and for the first time in a long time, he doesn’t feel hungry.
Some time passed and Yūji begrudgingly began speaking again to Gojō. He could never hold a grudge for too long. That and well, there was no one else to talk to.
It’s been a few weeks since then which meant Gojō would have to leave soon.
Gojō would normally disappear while Yūji was asleep, off to go eat. Gone for a few days until he was replenished.
Right now, Gojō’s swinging around a tree’s thick branch, disappearing into its cherry-colored foliage, while Yūji stands in his pale yellow kimono underneath, contemplating their relationship.
Yūji finds the other to be… somewhat obnoxious. But, in spite of the many things he wishes he could change about his situation, there were some silver linings when it came to Gojō. For one, he learned that Gojō was kind, in his own very unique way. He lets Yūji have his space when he needs it. He helps when Yūji asks for it, whether it’s cooking or cleaning. He’s funny, making Yūji laugh after a hard day. And many times, he brings back gifts, like alien candy or toys, which Yūji always finds interesting (as long as he didn’t think deeply about where they came from).
Another thing he appreciates was that he didn’t push Yūji too far when it came to the topic of more intimate matters.
Now, Yūji has a crazy idea.
Since their first night, they’ve only done it a handful of times. It’s always Gojō who initiates, and as embarrassing as it is to admit, Gojō was a quick learner when it came to learning how to push the right buttons. Yūji’s grown used to it and what that meant for him was a whole can of worms he wasn’t about to open right now.
He wonders if Gojō would reconsider his proposal if he did something for him. If he initiated. He noticed Gojō was notably more agreeable after they were done, letting Yūji get away with more. Which was kinda funny now that he thought about it. Kinda. Maybe he could bring up the topic of going out again afterwards and get some leeway this time.
Although he was lying to himself if he says it was entirely for that; it’s been a while since they’ve last done it, an itch starting to grow under his skin. He feels pent up, and since he can’t relieve himself without worrying if Gojō was watching or not, that leaves any reprieve up to the blue-eyed alien himself.
Besides, after their last tryst, there’s something he’s been wanting to test. If it didn’t work out, well, at least Yūji tried something new.
He looked up to where the pink leaves were rustling, amused at what the other could be doing up there.
“Gojō.”
Soon enough, a head popped out upside down from the foliage, white hair tousled and antlers covered in pink leaves. It was strangely charming.
Yūji waved a hand down. “Come down real quick.”
Obedient and full of energy, Gojō flipped his body and jumped down onto the grass with his hands on his hips. “What’s up?”
Yūji thought about what he wanted to do. There were a lot of things they haven’t tried, Gojō’s lack of experience seeing to that. But that wasn’t the same for Yūji who, to put it lightly, had more experience from his younger years. Still, he figures the next question is going to sound strange so he asks quickly without preamble:
“Is it alright— do you mind if I go down on you?”
His face feels hot after asking, shoulders tense as he waits for an answer. He figured his best shot would come from making Gojō feel good first. To his credit, Gojō doesn’t seem opposed. But by the light frown that followed and the crinkle between his brows, it was clear it was because he didn’t know what Yūji meant.
“...What’s that?” Gojō finally asks.
Yūji presses his lips together thinly, embarrassed that he has to explain.
“Sex, it’s oral sex. Do you know what that is?”
“I know what the two words mean,” Gojō replies, not understanding where Yūji was going with this, crossing his arms.
“Right.” Yūji rubs his chin, trying to figure out how to go about this. He doesn’t want to do anything until Gojō understands. “It’s like what we normally do, it’s just that this time I use my mouth,” Yūji tries this time.
“Where?” Gojō asks, still not understanding. This is a bit more embarrassing than Yūji originally thought it was going to be.
Yūji sighs then figures pure bluntness might work in this situation. He points at his own lips.
“I want to use my mouth on your dick.”
Gojō stares then goes wide-eyed before squinting judgmentally.
“You want to eat it?”
“No!” Yūji yells. “I’m just going to use my mouth, not my teeth. Trust me, it won’t hurt.”
“It’s not about getting hurt but…” Gojō thinks about it, fist cupping his chin. “I suppose if you do eat it, I can always grow it back.”
“I’m not going to eat it, that’s—” Yūji shudders. But sees that Gojō was pouting confusedly, and Yūji’s starting to think that maybe a demonstration would work better.
“Can I show you what I mean by trying it?” he asks patiently.
Gojō purses his lips but nods after a moment.
“Sure.”
Yūji nods. “Okay.” He stares Gojō up and down. “You’ll have to take your pants off for this.”
There was no hesitation, Gojō recalling how they normally do it and was curious what Yūji means by “using his mouth” as he unties the light blue sash around his waist, dropping his loose-fitting pants and kicking them aside, leaving him in his long-sleeved loose shirt. The shirt’s rather long anyway, covering his crotch so Yūji asks him to hold the brim which Gojō obeys, before making him lean against the tree.
Yūji takes in a deep inhale and gets on his knees carefully, rearranging his kimono until he’s comfortable. Tanned hands press lightly to milky white thighs. He runs his hands up and down, getting a feel for them while letting Gojō get used to his touch. He notes that they were slim yet had muscle. He gazes up and sees intense blues track his every movement.
Seeing that he’s being put on the spotlight, he looks back at where he's planning to use his mouth.
Gojō’s crotch has a white covering pattern over it but if he looks harder, he could see a slight vertical indentation where the slit hid itself.
Yūji separates Gojō’s legs further apart to get a better angle. Moves his hands up to where the slit was and parts it.
Gojō’s legs twitch and Yūji quickly looks up. Gojō still looks the same but the grip he had on his shirt is tighter now.
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No,” Gojō replies instantly.
Yūji crinkles his face in concern. “If you need me to slow down or anything, tell me, alright?”
Gojō nods once, still not taking his eyes off Yūji.
If Gojō wants to stop, there are a million ways he could; and that’s not including lethal options. But Yūji asks one more time, wanting to give that choice to Gojō.
“Is it okay if I keep going?”
“Yes, it’s fine,” Gojō says, impatience belying his answer.
Yūji nods, finally satisfied. He leans in closer and sees that the slit was a vibrant darkish blue, small, with a hole where presumably the other’s member would come out of. He’s never seen this part of Gojō, especially not this closely.
Yūji swallows and glances up once, sees that Gojō wasn’t stopping him and leans in closer until his breath is tickling it. Gojō shudders lightly but doesn't move besides that, keeping still from suspense.
Slowly, Yūji takes his tongue and laps at the slit.
Gojō’s left hand flies to Yūji’s head.
Yūji stops immediately and looks up, ready to ask but Gojō beats him to the punch.
“Don’t stop.”
Gojō’s pupils have dilated, a faint blue blush coating his face.
Oh.
Yūji dives in again, flattening his tongue to coat the whole thing in his saliva. Gojō’s hips thrust forward automatically when Yūji moves back.
It’s not his first time eating someone out but it is the first time he was eating someone out who’s not human. But the rules should still be the same…
He tries practicing what he learned others liked, and keeps his tongue firm, licking Gojō in long and slow strokes. Yūji winces when he feels claws dig into his scalp. He keeps quiet though once he sees Gojō— his eyes are squeezed tightly shut and his blush has now spread over his cheeks where his scales didn’t cover, fingers gripping his shirt tightly.
Yūji’s heart picks up in pace at the sight and he goes back to what he was doing. He laps at the slit until something pokes at his tongue and Yūji moves back in time to see Gojō’s tentacle dick pop out, wriggling and wet.
It’s blue yet white-tipped, with budding protrusions all over it but mainly at the tip; it makes him think of a pinecone. Luckily, from past experience, he knew they were soft and not coarse like one.
His dick’s too long to fit in his mouth but he could certainly try what he can.
“Keep your shirt up for me, okay?”
This time, he only gets a jerky nod, Gojō’s eyes opening up half-mast to watch Yūji..
He looks sorta cute like this. But Yūji wants to be delicate about this and not push Gojō too far. Carefully, he grabs the tentacle around its length, closer to the tip. He’s worried about the protrusions, imagining it wouldn’t be easy putting all of that in his mouth.
“Gojō,” Yūji says carefully. “Do you think you could retract these?”
He’s not sure if that was even possible for Gojō to do. Maybe Yūji could try licking it anyway. But right after he thought this, the little bumps all over the length started receding, leaving behind a smooth surface.
The length wriggles in his grasp and he ends up squeezing so it wouldn’t slip. But then Gojō makes a soft noise that makes his heart skip a beat and Yūji brings the length to his mouth.
He sticks his tongue out to slide around the moving tip but when it wraps itself around his tongue like a snake, Yūji has to pull his tongue back.
He brings his other hand up to keep the tip still with his thumb and brings it back to his mouth again. This time, he wraps his lips around it firmly, and sucks. Gojō cries out, tossing his head back.
Yūji slides his hand down at the same time as his mouth, making it easier to swallow. The tip squirms on his tongue, so he presses his tongue flat to the roof of his mouth, keeping it trapped where sweet pre-cum soon coats his taste buds.
Gojō’s holding back from making noise, fingers gripping pink hair too harshly. Yūji’s tongue was soft and hot, cradling his cock as Yūji took more of him in.
His hips twitch, wanting to thrust all the way. The wet heat of Yūji’s mouth spreads over his length and he moans, sensitivity spreading quickly over his lower half, keeping him trapped as Yūji sucked.
It’s supposed to be that there was nothing he couldn’t handle, but this is— it's new. Heat flows into his mind and body from the intensity that runs through him, the tingling sensation overwhelming his senses, making him want to simultaneously tug Yūji off and push his head down further.
The more Yūji swallows, the thicker the length becomes and eventually, when the tip reaches the back of his throat, he needs to breathe and so he slowly moves his head back. He gets a low cut-off whimper, Gojō chasing after him with his hips, tentacle dick thrusting back into Yūji’s mouth. Yūji grunts, feeling it thrust into his throat for a second before he grabs the length and holds it still, properly pulling back until only the tip was inside. He was curious, wanting to copy what it had done earlier.
When the tip wriggles around his tongue, he plays along and wraps his tongue as best as he could around it until it coils around his tongue tightly. When it loosens up enough, Yūji rolls his tongue around in a mimic of a sloppy kiss.
Gojō swears loudly in an alien tongue, keening when Yūji closes his lips around it and suckles. He has the urge to hit the tree behind him, to claw at the bark and hold himself steady but he couldn’t bring himself to move, Yūji’s tongue holding him captive. He raises his curled fist closer to his mouth, bringing the shirt up with it and exposing the muscular stomach underneath.
Yūji’s gaze skims over his abs, feeling heat spike below at the sight. Emboldened, he surges forward to take Gojō as deeply as he could into his mouth.
He hears Gojō gasp but Yūji’s not paying attention, fighting to not gag with the thick appendage sliding into his throat. He bobs his head back and forth, taking a little more of Gojō each time. His throat squeezes around him as he swallows. He wants to take in more, to make Gojō feel even better but it's difficult, his cock too thick. His jaw aches and he opens his eyes to see his progress. He barely took less than half of the whole thing.
Does this really go inside him?
He swallows excess saliva, mixed in with the sweet pre-fluid Gojō’s dick was secreting. He whimpered when it squirms inside. Lips sliding back and forth, he licks the underside, making sure to breathe through his nose whenever he swallows Gojō deeply into his throat. He gazes up, wanting to see Gojō.
Eyes closed in bliss, his long white eyelashes lie curled over sapphire-flushed cheeks, the lower half of his face covered by his shirt collar. He’s being quiet, soft little exhales as his hips jerk forward to keep Yūji’s warm mouth on him, wanting to keep the snug walls of his throat around him.
Yūji sucks harder around his cock, but keeps his pace slow, half out of not wanting to overwhelm Gojō, the other half for his own sake.
When he feels the tentacle throb and squirm, Gojō lets go of his shirt and grips Yuuj’s hair with both hands.
The shirt falls, the fabric landing on top of Gojō’s dick so Yūji grabs the fabric and pushes it against the other’s stomach, momentarily distracted by the firm muscle under his palm but refocusing when he hears Gojō grow louder, more desperate. Now was not the time to stop but to keep going, and to go harder.
He moves his mouth faster, sloppily licking around the length and squeezing his throat on purpose, feeling it pulse.
“Yūji. Yūji.”
Gojō grips his head harder to hold him in place. Yūji grunts in surprise when Gojō starts moving on his own yet doesn't stop him, letting him use his mouth as he wanted. He knows Gojō isn’t doing it on purpose, just simply following instinct. He makes it easier for him, keeping his mouth open, still sucking and licking. Shudders when he heard Gojō cry out his name again, full of prayer and worship.
Gojō goes limp against the tree, legs weak. Couldn’t move or think, trapped in the desire to keep thrusting forward, yearning more for what Yūji could give him. His soft breathy moans making Yūji flush, his own cock reacting to the sounds.
“Ah—!”
Gojō gasps, throwing his head back in surprise as spiked pleasure bursts in his lower stomach. His dick suddenly wriggles out of Yūji’s mouth, covered in saliva and pre-fluid, the protrusions coming back out before the tip spurts out thick white ropes onto Yūji’s face.
Yūji flinches, closing his eyes when the first one hits his skin. It lands across his nose and cheek but then more come, spilling onto his other cheek, lips, forehead and across one eye. Yūji tentatively opens his eyes and when he feels a viscous fluid trail down his short eyelashes, he quickly wipes it off— he already lost one eye, he is not losing another one.
He hadn’t expected Gojō to cum without warning him but he supposes he couldn’t be too surprised. It’s Gojō’s first time so it was likely a little too much for him. Yūji’s glad he liked it enough to finish, but he would have preferred it had not been on his face.
He notices there was so much of it too. He licks over his lips coated with cum and a sweetness flooded his mouth. He noticed that Gojō’s precum had also tasted sweet and wondered if this is a product of him often eating sweet things or if it’s a natural predisposition.
He doesn’t have much time to wonder when Gojō falls down, getting Yūji’s attention again. Knees buckling, Gojō slid down the tree and onto the ground. Gasping softly, cheeks blushing, Yūji could see the blue shade trail down his neck, white scales taking on a light blue. His long eyelashes fanned down, hair slightly tousled with a few strands sticking to his forehead.
He looks…
Yūji gulps and another scenario comes to him, one he tucks away to the back of his mind. He doesn’t want to push Gojō too far by asking if they could switch roles, figuring that might be too much for what Gojō is used to. Maybe one day.
Instead, Yūji unties his kimono, exposing his skin to the pleasant breeze, before slipping off his underwear. He leaves the robe on over his arms and shoulders since he’ll need it once this is over.
He wipes the cum off of his face, spreading it to the tips of his fingers and bringing his hand down to below his crotch. He presses them inside his ass, more focused on stretching himself out than feeling good. It’s been a while since their last time so he’s tight. He grunts as he forcibly thrusts them, scissoring them harshly, wanting to move on to the next course already.
While he’s more than capable of taking Gojō at this point, body changed to be able to bounce back from most injuries that most people wouldn’t be able to, he still isn’t thrilled about the idea of getting split in half.
Once he thinks it’s enough, he takes his fingers out, crawls over and grabs Gojō— who was simmering in the afterglow— by the arms. Blue eyes open up in surprise, before Yūji hauls him onto the grass.
Gojō lets him, cheeks still blue but considerably less so, calming down from what they just did. Not for long though.
Yūji straddles him, heated brown eyes giving one last glance at bewildered blue eyes before focusing on himself, lifting his legs and reaching for Gojō’s cock. It had retracted mostly back inside, but still considerably long. Yūji grabs the shaft and presses his thumb against the tip, smoothing down small, soft bumps and stopping its wriggling so he could align with where he wants it.
His heart rate spikes from feeling it curl wetly around his entrance. It knows where to go and slithers up past the rim. The rest of Gojō’s dick shoots up inside Yūji, seeking out the velvet heat he offers and he thrusts his hips down, planting himself on top of Gojō.
Fingers flew to grip onto his thighs, indenting into the fat but Yūji wants to keep that cute expression on Gojō. Wants to see him fall apart from how good it feels.
My turn now.
He grabs Gojō’s wrists. If Gojō wants, he could resist; he could stop Yūji and turn them over to have him right then and there, but Gojō doesn’t do anything. He watches Yūji in fascination, as Yūji leans forward to pin his wrists to the ground.
Gojō has the ability to wipe out entire galaxies; there was nothing he couldn’t do. He’s a God playing human as he lets Yūji hold him down, waiting for what he would do next. When Yūji stares him in the eyes as he raises his hips, exposing where they’re connected, Gojō goes weak with awe.
Yūji rolls his hips down and Gojō moans under the heat swallowing him whole. Yūji winces, still not entirely used to how something so long could move inside him. He moves experimentally, momentarily distracted by how the small bumps grind against his insides, moaning quietly before focusing back on Gojō, keeping his hands where they are.
He grinds his hips in accordance with Gojō's reaction— for every whimper, Yūji moves slower and for every moan, Yūji thrusts harder, slamming down and feeling him writhe inside. It pushes against his guts and he chances a glance away from Gojō’s debauched expression to look down where his stomach bulges.
The small pause makes Gojō thrust up, impatient, and Yūji groans. It presses down on his prostate, slithering across his sensitive walls with all its ridges and making him squeeze. Gojō jerks, chasing after that sensation by thrusting harder. Yūji’s rocked back and forth, simmering in being spread open, eyes fluttering closed before coming back half-opened and staring into Gojō’s dazed eyes.
The two pick a rhythm and lose themselves in the way they feel, tight and soft; hard and thick. Yūji keeps his hips moving, voice coming out in a stutter when Gojō thrusts too roughly, a tingling heat spreading right after, making him melt.
His own cock’s making a mess on Gojō’s stomach, only leaking harder from hearing Gojō’s moans. Gojō’s flushed blue from face to his neck, until it disappeared under his shirt and Yūji was tempted to take it off him, just to see how far it goes.
Seeing that he’s making Gojō feel good too, that someone this powerful is falling to pieces under Yūji’s hands, excites him.
He lifts his hips, wanting to tease Gojō and smiles coyly when Gojō whimpers. Yūji seats himself back to the base, savoring how full he was until Gojō thrusts up too harshly, making his insides tighten up.
“Yūji,” Gojō gasps. “Too much…”
Yūji almost chides him, about to tell him that it wasn’t him, it was Gojō.
It wasn’t him, it was Gojō.
A theory bubbles to the surface as the thought registers. Yūji stops moving, keeping the other warm and buzzed while squeezing purposefully this time, wanting to test something.
He bucks, the tentacle doing it again, pressing everywhere all at once in a frantic thrash before going back to thrusting. Its ridges dragging distractingly over the hot grasp of his walls, making him almost forget what he’s about to do. He opens his eyes and smiles knowingly, realizing his theory is right.
His hands snake up the cool skin of Gojō’s wrists to interlock with his fingers before raising their hands up as he leans back, needing a better angle for what he’s about to do.
His kimono fans out around him and over Gojō’s hips as he sits upright, holding Gojō’s hands within his. His insides clench and again, Gojō’s dick moves without permission, responding instinctively to what Yūji was doing.
He does it again a few times, leisurely watching Gojō’s reaction while he sits still, feeling good with every squeeze and every pleasurable rub. The bumpy texture rolls around while squirming lightly before thrusting up, making Yūji leak pre-cum that sticks to the other’s skin.
Gojō’s claws are digging into Yūji’s knuckles, threatening to break skin but Yūji doesn’t notice, not while he has a lovely show going under him.
The cute God is crying out hard from every teasing squeeze Yūji does, face turned to the side from being overwhelmed. The heat that swallows his cock whole in a vice grip rendering him helpless, making it so that his only thought is that it’s too much, too hot, too good.
“Yūji, stop moving!”
Yūji laughs softly and couldn’t help a small roll of his hips before squeezing again, heart jumping at the loud needy moan Gojō lets out.
“I’m not,” Yūji replies, voice honey to Gojō’s ears. “You’re the one moving. It’s all you and you don’t even realize. Look.”
Yūji spreads his legs farther and bends back, bringing Gojō’s hands to touch at his bulging stomach before repeating his new trick and letting Gojō feel himself squirm inside.
“I’m not doing anything yet, look at yourself. Is it that good?”
He sucks in his stomach and Gojō swore, arching off the grass. Yūji winces, feeling incredibly full, but cries out as Gojō thrusts into him roughly.
Yūji collects himself quickly though. Tilts his head to the side, face blushing pink, sighing into the air before he grins, sly and sweet all at once.
“Do you feel good inside me?”
It all happens quickly.
He hears a low growl before the world blurs and he yelps, being tossed backwards and flipped onto his stomach.
He gasps when a hand wrapped around his neck and wrenched him up onto his hands and knees. Gojō’s tentacle dick slithered across his backside, smearing it in fluids while Gojō draped himself over Yūji’s back.
“You are forgetting your place,” he snarls. “Allow me to remind you, pet.”
Before Yūji could retort, say that Gojō would make for a pretty cute pet himself, Gojō penetrates him and drives his cock all the way inside, cutting off any words and making him cry out instead.
From his angle, he couldn’t see that Gojō was blushing furiously over him, brows furrowed, flustered and annoyed for letting himself get carried away so easily. He’s in control here, not the other way around. Nevermind that his heart is still racing from Yūji leading, can still feel the warmth of Yūji’s stomach as he made Gojō touch the small swell. Replaying it in his mind as he presses himself as closely as he could against Yūji.
Gojō thrusts a few times, ego soothed as he hears Yūji moan, marveling at the way the pink-haired man arches under him beautifully, the curvature of his spine an image he wants to imprint on his memory. But before he could truly do so, run his hands down that strong waist, he hears Yūji chuckle softly.
“What’s so funny?”
“If you wanted to be dominated that badly, all you had to do was ask—”
Yūji is cut off by another tentacle spearing his mouth open. His eyes widen, recognizing it as Gojō’s tongue but he doesn’t move away, gurgling as it slides past the back of his throat and down.
It thrusts back and forth at the same time Gojō fucks him, saliva pooling around the rim of his lips. It moves punishingly, thick and long, swelling in his throat, knowing Gojō could feel it where his hand was still on his neck.
He should be angry at being silenced so crudely, might have been if he were sane, but right now, as he’s being used, Yūji’s cock leaks profusely, dripping in thick lines to the grass below.
Gojō thrusts hard, wanting to go in deeper. He lifts Yūji’s left leg by the thigh and is able to get the last few inches in, knows this from the way Yūji cries out loudly, muffled around his tongue. Then speeds up, the sound of skin smacking together loud and rapid from the way Yūji’s ass bounces back onto his pelvis.
Absorbed by the pleasure reaching deep inside, head fuzzy from the tongue thrusting steadily into his mouth, keeping it occupied, Yūji melts, eyes falling nearly shut, brown overtaking what little white there was.
It feels so good.
He felt it primal with his leg raised up, held like prey to be devoured, a mere toy to be used but instead of being upset, the notion sends shivers down his spine and makes a burst of pleasure cut through the haze, settling down into something heavy and hypnotizing. He wants to be used. It feels good like this, not having to think. He wants more.
His wish was granted as Gojō fucks him harder, brutally, his hand shooting from his neck to palm at his right tit, squeezing at the fat. It’s an act Gojō learned he enjoyed greatly after the first few times they laid together, initially doing it in order to feel all of Yūji, to claim all of him as much as he could but now, he did it because he liked the feeling of it in his hand.
When sharp claws rake the skin around it, Yūji moans, the sting of pain muddying itself in the sea of pleasure.
Gojō groans as he palms the plump flesh under his hand, the sound sending a vibration across his tongue and he’s rewarded with a tight clench around his cock.
This is different. The other times were for fun, for something to do when Gojō was bored, but this is addicting. He wants to stay inside Yūji forever; wants to try new things he’s never thought of before nor would have until he met Yūji. As Yūji moans, Gojō yearned to learn what other noises he could make when he was under Gojō. His expressions, his temperature and taste. He feels like an idiot for not doing so sooner, for not memorizing all the minute shifts in Yūji when he’s made to feel intense pleasure. What does Yūji sound like when he’s begging for more, what does he look like after being thoroughly ravished, defiled and quivering.
It’s a craving akin to the intense hunger that befell him an eternity ago, except it isn’t one that leaves a gaping maw in his stomach to be sated with flesh and blood, but one that makes him ache in the very core of his being, one that he’s unable to put a name on, for it’s the very first time he ever felt something more raw than pure hunger.
He wants to press Yūji’s head to the ground with his hips raised for Gojō to latch onto while he takes him from behind. To turn him on his back so Yūji couldn’t escape from Gojō’s gaze as he watched him climax.
His cock throbs painfully under the image he created, before tensing and, not wanting to hold back, shoots his seed into Yūji, groaning deeply as he cums.
Yūji convulses, whining low in his throat as heat fills him up.
He wasn’t awake the first time it happened but now he knows— he's become familiar with how it feels, to be cummed inside of by Gojō.
It’s hot, hotter than human semen and it always overflows inside him, too much to be contained inside. It’s what pushes him over the edge right after Gojō, his own orgasm catching him off guard. It shoots through his body, pleasure spiking with each load Gojō releases inside.
Drool pools at the rim of his bottom lip and drips onto the grass. Semen pushes past Gojō's dick to leak out, globs pooling where they’re connected before flowing down his inner thighs.
Yūji twitches, mind blank save for the sweetness steadily rushing through his body.
Gojō’s claws cut into Yūji’s thigh, thin red lines appearing where he grips too tightly. When his orgasm recedes into a faint yet pleasurable dull, Gojō slowly takes his tongue out Yūji’s throat. Yūji gasps, licking his wet lips, mind still fuzzy while Gojō pulls his cock out. Yūji stiffens with a soft moan when the ribbed texture of Gojō’s tip purposefully curls around his prostrate one last time on the way out, hearing a low chuckle from behind.
Gojō lets go of his thigh and Yūji’s ready to collapse onto the ground but Gojō is one step ahead.
Yūji yelps as Gojō turns him over and lays him on the grass on his back, the other lying on top of him. With his robe acting as a make-shift blanket on top of the scratchy grass, Yūji was grateful he kept it on after all.
With the tall pink grass peeking over the two and hiding them, Gojō swoops in for a kiss. They haven’t kissed since their first time, if you could even call it a kiss. After a short surprised pause, Yūji reciprocates. He tries to take the lead since it’s soon clear enough that Gojō doesn’t know what he’s doing but, stubborn, Gojō is determined to prove otherwise.
He retracts most of his tongue back into his mouth, only using the long tip to wrap around Yūji’s own. That felt nice— really nice, actually— but Gojō is kissing him a bit too messy and hurried for them to get into a proper rhythm. It’s endearing though, how Gojō is trying so hard to look good when he’s still inexperienced. Still, he wants to help him improve so they could both feel good.
He raises his right leg and grazes his calf across the side of Gojō’s waist before hooking it around him and spinning them around so he’s on top and Gojō is on his back.
Gojō’s fast though and he flips them again, victory dancing in his eyes as he pins Yūji again.
“Nope.”
“Aw, c’mon,” Yūji cooes, reaching his arms around the other’s shoulders.
“You’re bolder than usual,” Gojō teases, face centimeters away from Yūji.
“How can I not be after you showed me how cute you can be.” Yūji teases back, turning smug at how Gojō’s expression goes from simple mirth to a disapproving pout, unwilling to admit his embarrassment for how he acted earlier, but Yūji sees through it anyway.
“Watch it,” Gojō warns, voice devoid of any real reprimand.
“Shut me up then. You know how,” Yūji says, all banter.
It’s meant to be lighthearted, a segue to get back to what they were doing. And yet something foreign lanced through Gojō’s chest.
So far, he’s never asked Yūji what he wants to do. He never needed to, why should he? The man always goes along with every one of Gojō’s whims. He thinks this might be the first time Yūji has asked for more and this fact felt… wrong somehow. But he’s always lived according to his own rules. He’s never asked for anything before, taking whatever he wanted whenever he wanted, so why start now?
But as he lowers his lips, so close to Yūji, their breaths mingle, he couldn’t bring himself to close the distance. Radiant blue eyes flicker from Yūji’s lips to brown eyes, waiting, waiting for what, he couldn’t say. But Yūji somehow understands, eyes turning soft before closing, leaning up and pressing his lips against Gojō’s.
This time, Gojō lets Yūji lead, following the way his lips move, tilting his face the way Yūji does. After a few seconds, Gojō could, begrudgingly, admit that this one is better. Then Yūji’s lips caress his in a way that makes him forget all about his pride.
It’s … sweet.
Small hands press on his back to pull him down and Gojō obeys, settling his weight on top of Yūji, enjoying the warmth of the other’s chest even through his shirt. Yūji lowers an arm to cup Gojō’s cheek and gently tilt his face, slotting their lips better.
When a tongue swipes across his sharp teeth, Gojō eagerly opens up to return the gesture, still keeping his tongue at an appropriate length, not wanting to ruin this. Letting Yūji guide him, their tongues roll around, idle and gently. It’s slow yet he doesn’t feel the slightest impatient. He’s enraptured.
His chest feels light, a rich sensation going through and taking hold. Yūji gently pushes his face back for a second to breathe, bringing him back down in a different angle, tongues soft and hot as they move in tandem.
The sensation grows stronger, becoming all the more impossible to ignore as the kiss goes on. He couldn’t describe it— it was similar to pain. It’s an ache that spreads over his chest, his heart feather-light and pounding all at once. Privately, to himself and no one else, he thinks it's close to being… frightening.
Still, he was getting turned on again and he showed this by grinding down on Yūji.
Yūji gasps sweetly into their kiss and breaks it, a small line of saliva connecting them. He looks to the side and down where Gojō proceeds to do it again and Yūji’s eyes widen before staring up at Gojō.
“Again?”
“Is that alright?”
Gojō’s hands are already reaching down to part Yūji’s legs, spreading them so he could grind right against Yūji’s flaccid cock and settle between his thighs— right where he should be.
Yūji clicks his tongue playfully, but not exactly put off by the idea. If anything, he could feel himself growing hard again.
“Are you really asking me?” Yūji teases, spreading his legs wider apart.
“Yes. I… Can I? Please?”
The tone Gojō uses catches him off guard. He looks shy, long white eyelashes adding to the puppy eyes he’s unintentionally doing. Yūji’s chest swells and he smiles, finding it hard to connect that someone this cute is also the very same monster capable of destroying enire universes.
“Okay. One more time.”
Gojō grins, and presses another kiss to Yūji, more messy than smooth but Yūji laughs and fixes that for him, smiling as he kisses Gojō, before slotting their lips more aptly.
They stay in the field, holding each other until the sun sets and they have to go back home for dinner. As they walk back together, with Gojō running up ahead and smiling back at Yūji, he finds that he couldn’t bring himself to mention what he originally wanted to say.
So he keeps quiet, deciding it was an argument for another day, and thinks instead on what he should cook for tonight.
Gojō floated lazily in space, his arms behind his head as he waited for his meal to get ready.
It’s some planetary system that has made alliances with their celestial neighbors to form some sort of conciliatory interplanetary bureaucracy— the only real importance in those words is that it means more food for him.
He couldn’t hear their screams in the vacuum of space. He could create a barrier of air, so their sound waves would transmit to him, but it’s nothing he hasn’t heard countless times by now. Hearing agonized wails has lost its appeal after the first few hundred times.
He glances over at one the planets— red — and sees that it has already turned gray, its other neighboring planets on the same path. He could feel his essence has embedded itself into the planet's core and into the nervous system of every infected inhabitant, a fraction of his hunger sated with every bite and tear they take of their fellow kind.
After this, it should be enough to last him a few more weeks than usual before he has to return. He’s looking forward to how the stars taste here. They’re usually the same across most dimensions he goes into— spicy with a light tang!— but each dimension’s stars still have their own unique flavor. It's impossible to describe but if he has to, he supposes he could say the last one had stars with more of a “lemon” taste while those of the one before that had a “lime” taste.
He’s excited to see the difference here but as excited as he is, he’s hoping to bring back some of the desserts they have at this system. A cursory look through one of the infected and he can see that the bakeries and candy shops are… mostly intact. As long as he could get to the products in the end, it’ll be fine.
He remembers when he tried his first candy. Back when he was young and had only a few dimensions under his belt, he didn’t pay attention to their stores. Why would he, when the fun was in chasing down something alive and scared? But it was out of mere curiosity that he tried the confections of the planet he was invading.
It was a small store with a brightly colorful front, with a strange-looking smiling mascot. The inside of the store was ruined and he could see what he presumed to be the owner dead under the rubble but he was more interested in the rainbow of sweets before him. He tried one; found the sugary flavor overpowering and promptly ignored them. Sent some minions into the store to finish off the owner while he waited for the rest of the planet to die out. But he couldn’t forget that sugar-filled taste, having never tasted something sweet until then, and so, he tried them again; and again and again, out of “curiosity” he told himself, until it developed into the sweet tooth he has now.
If there’s one thing that evolution got right, it was instilling the ability to create; no, it wasn’t their architecture or technology that interested him. Not in the slightest. It’s the supposed tied connection in the many universes he’s traveled to, in all civilizations, that evolved to create sweets. Pastries, candies, and desserts in each world, with its own history and ingredients.
Occasionally, and very rarely, some universes didn’t have anything sweet; a result of different physics or a lack of carbon-based bonds. Those, he goes out of his way to destroy very quickly. What was the point of evolving to a more advanced form of life if you don’t even have chocolate to show for it? It was a mercy to end their pitiful existence.
Over the eons, he’s treated himself to all sorts of confections, some good, some weird. But he also enjoys knowing his palate is far greater than any inferior species could ever hope to dream to achieve, on the simple principle that they can’t break through reality; ha, losers.
Nowadays, he’s finding that while he’s excited to try what this system has to offer, another thought would slide in right after, and it was that he’s excited to share. Instead of before, where he thought, I can’t wait to try this, it’s now, I can’t wait for Yūji to try this.
There’s been a few incidents where he gave something to Yūji that he could digest but that Yūji couldn’t, not realizing this fact until Yūji would tell him later. And while Yūji could no longer die in the traditional sense, that didn’t make food poisoning any less fun.
He pays extra attention to the long list of alien ingredients Yūji couldn’t digest; although he didn’t have to worry as much when he'd find a planet similar to Earth.
…He’s noticed that the pink-haired man has been on his mind a lot more frequently now. Before, he was riding out the days on low, passing the time by either eating or doing miscellaneous things, such as colliding galaxies together. It was something to do, something different than the tedious mechanism of preying and destruction.
No pastimes of any planet he’s ever invaded has ever interested him. Until now, he supposed.
Like cooking. He thinks about how much he enjoys eating “actual food”, as Yūji calls it. He looks forward to eating together with him, talking over food and, also, he looks forward to the food itself; what can he say, the man can cook. Then there are the comic books Yuji liked to read, sometimes reading together with Gojō since Yūji couldn’t understand the alien text they would come in. He likes playing board games with Yūji, especially since once he knew the rules, he would always win.
Something tugs at his chest from the anticipation of seeing him again. The large bright smile he’d get whenever he comes back home.
Home. That was another thing. He didn’t really have one of those before, not officially. Whenever he needed to rest, he’d just stay on the planet he invaded until the next time he needed to move. Picking that pink planet was the right choice— it’s good on the eyes and it fits with Yūji’s beau— appearance.
…he wants to see him again soon.
He clicks his tongue, for once annoyed that he has to eat in order to survive; he could handle starvation for a few months, right? What’s the point of being a God if he had to restrain himself like this?
He can always look through Yūji if he wants to. It’s a hobby of his; sometimes he’d catch Yūji while he was picking flowers or fruits; sometimes, he was cooking. Strangely, he didn’t feel bored watching him do these mundane tasks. It’s comforting instead.
Resolute, he blinks and suddenly, instead of the star-filled inky cosmos that surrounds him, it was a pillow.
Confused, he looks around and sees that Yūji must be lying on a bed; it’s nighttime then. His arms are around a huge pillow, holding onto it tightly.
He doesn’t understand why, so he decides to get a better view. He sits up and swipes his hand over the fabric of spacetime, leaving behind a hole for him to peer into. Yūji wouldn’t see it but Gojō could and that’s the point here.
Like he just saw a second ago, Yūji is holding onto a large pillow to his chest, lying on his side on his bed. His expression isn’t one Gojō hasn’t seen before although it’s one he hasn’t seen in a while— misery. He must be feeling lonely.
Gojō feels a sick sense of delight that Yūji was longing for company, specifically Gojō’s company since it’s the only he’ll get, but past that, runs something deeper. After some time contemplating what this something is, he pinpoints it down and realizes that in the midst of his delight, is a small tinge of guilt.
For anyone else, for any mere human, this would be easily ignored. But Gojō isn’t used to feeling tinges, of feeling uncertainty. He’s used to wholes and absolutes, in full confidence of his decisions.
Not to mention, he isn’t used to feeling bad. It’s a strange feeling.
He supposes his attachment to his… companion, runs deeper than he thought. It was opening up new wells of emotions he didn’t know he was capable of.
He’s almost worried to admit that he was turning… soft.
The thought makes him scowl but watching the man curl up tighter with the pillow in his arms, makes the tinge return, like an annoying flick to the forehead, and Gojō thinks about their conversation, where Yūji asked him to consider a pet.
It was still a no. Something about Yūji paying attention to anything other than him just didn’t sit right. But that doesn’t mean all alternatives were cleared off.
He thought he gave Yūji enough to be content with but Gojō has to remind himself that humans are humans, and with humans comes limits. So another form of recreation would have to do.
He’s already allowed an entire planet for Yūji to travel and explore, an activity he knows the man does often while he’s away. Another is books, and another is when Gojō would come back, he’d always share the exotic treats he collects on these excursions.
Thinking on it harder, he realizes there wasn’t much for Yūji to do on his own except what he mentioned and a few other things.
Surely, Gojō could do better than that.
Determination flows through him as he straightens up, and focuses on watching through the eyes of all the ones he’s infected, ignoring those currently devouring, and also watching through his trees and monsters that roam the sky. There must be something on these planets that could entertain Yūji. If not, he doesn’t care; he’ll find a way.
Yūji’s reading a book on the couch, trying to figure out from the drawings if the story was about a princess getting kidnapped or running away, a servant by her side. He’s in the process of turning it upside down to get another perspective that might illuminate the story better when a soft breath tickles his ear.
“Boo.”
Yūji yips, clutching the book a little too tightly and wrinkling its pages before swiftly turning his head around to face the culprit in mixed alarm and irritation.
“That scares you?” Gojō asks sarcastically, hands on his hips. All that effort into his pranks and this is what gets a reaction?
“Gojō! You’re back,” Yūji says, ignoring the other’s comment. He sets the book down on the coffee table in front of him before facing Gojō again. “You took longer this time. Is everything alright?”
It has been a week since Yūji last saw him, and while that might not seem like a lot of time, it is for someone like Gojō who normally took only a few days to do what he had to.
“Of course. Who do you think you’re talking to?” Gojō says, the picture of arrogance as Gojō poses an elegant hand under his chin.
Yūji smiles, glad that all went well. “Welcome home, Gojō.”
Gojō jumps over the back of the couch and sinks into the cushions with a heavy thud, right next to Yūji. He claps his hands together, with a coy smile that piques Yūji’s curiosity.
“I have a surprise for you.”
He then beams, throwing both arms out to the right. “Ta-da!”
Yūji looks over and does a double take. There, on the bench stationed in front of the coffee table, is a large bulky TV and a disc player attached to it.
“Where did the flowers go?”
“Who cares; look! It’s a television.” Gojō stands up and walks over, patting on the TV. “I got it on the way home. Now you can watch whatever you want when I’m gone so you won’t get bored.”
Looking it over, Yūji notices how ancient the model was. It’s older than what they have on his planet by a few generations, at least, but he thinks he can figure out how it works. But if it works how he thinks it does, then there was no watching anything since…
“We don’t have working electricity,” Yūji remarks, confused.
“I know, this one’s battery powered.”
Ah. Well, that’s one way to get around it. Yūji gazes at the TV, then at Gojō’s proud expression then back to the TV.
“It’s nice,” Yūji says slowly. “Thank you, Gojō but, um, how are we supposed to watch when we don’t have any…?”
“Way ahead of you.” Gojō flourishes a line of DVDs like a spread of cards in his hands that seemingly appeared out of nowhere.
Yūji’s eyes light up when he sees that he recognized some of the titles. “No way! You got ‘Killer Space Clowns 4’, how did you know, I love that series!” Yūji grins, reaching out for the movies which Gojō happily surrenders. Gojō walks over to flop back on the couch, one leg crossed over the other while Yūji spreads the DVD cases across the dining table.
Wait, he recognized these movies. He could understand the printed text.
He sharply turns to Gojō. “Where did—”
“Not yours,” Gojō answers immediately. Calmly, he clarifies even further.
“This is the reason why it took me longer to come back, I had to search for a planet similar to Earth. I figured you might appreciate actually being able to understand what you’re watching.”
Although it would have been funny seeing him try. But he already gets that by seeing Yūji trying (and failing) to understand the alien comic books he brings back, so he decided to play nice this time.
“Oh. Okay,” Yūji says, feeling slightly guilty for not trusting Gojō on keeping his promise but relieved that it isn’t what he thought it was. He looks back at the movies in front of him, finding it bizarre that these came from a different version of Earth yet are still the exact same as the movies he had on his Earth. Or maybe not, maybe the stories are different in some way.
“I asked the guy at the store for some recommendations,” Gojō says next to him.
Yūji hums, relaxing now that he knows his own Earth is safe. “You could have taken me along. I could have helped you pick.”
“Oh, I was still invading when I went there and I know you don’t like to be around for that so, yeah.”
The image of Gojō, with all of his strange characteristics, stepping into a store in the midst of destroying the planet and everyone on its surface, all to ask what was likely a very petrified employee for movie recommendations was… comical, to say the least.
Yūji turns to him, exasperated.
“Did you at least spare them?”
Gojō cocks his head, smiling but not saying anything, swinging his leg lightly. Yūji sighs, not bothering to push the topic further, lest he hears something that will ruin his night.
Well, it’s… sweet, in a way, since Gojō went out of his way to get these for him.
“There’s also this.”
Gojō holds up a plastic white bag that, again, seemingly appeared out of nowhere from his right.
“There’s more on the dining table but for now, check these out.”
He pawns off the bag to Yūji who searches through the contents and is surprised at what he sees.
“Daifuku!” Yūji beams with absolute joy, pulling out a cardboard box with a store sticker on top. He opens it up to pull out a pink mochi and bites into it— the inside has a strawberry, the red bean paste sweet and delicious, making Yūji moan as he holds one cheek in bliss.
Gojō watches all of this with delighted amusement.
“If you ever stop by another— another Earth, you need to take me along next time,” Yūji says through a mouthful of mochi. “I can introduce you to one of the best sweets out there. It’s called Kikufuku, it’s from my hometown. Trust me, you’ll love it.”
Gojō wants to say no but if he does, that means Yūji will be upset again. And seeing him smile like this, only to ruin it, is a waste of hard work.
“...I’ll think about it.”
Yūji’s eyebrows fly up. It’s the first time Gojō actually considered his proposal to go out. He’s been asking for months, and to finally hear it, made the day perfect.
He flushes lightly, excitement spilling into his chest.
Gojō feels warm at the sight and nods towards the DVDs.
“Which one do you wanna see first?”
Yūji blinks and gazes back over the collection. His hand hovers over the Killer Space Clowns 4 movie but pauses, figuring he’s had enough of horror and picks another movie. He recognizes it as a comedy.
He stands up, recalling how these old TVs are supposed to work and after a long moment, realizes he has to push a button on the disc player. A small tray pops out and he inserts the DVD inside, where it pulls back inside with a light whir. His hand hovers over the buttons on the bottom of the TV, and presses the large one, proud of himself when he sees the screen turn on.
“Do you want me to heat up some food?” Yūji asks, standing up straight after one last glance at the TV.
Gojō shakes his head. “I’m good. Actually, I’m good for a while. Had a big breakfast and all that,” he says while patting on his stomach.
“So what does that mean?”
“I’m staying a few weeks more than usual. How’s that sound?”
Yūji smiles. “Sounds like we’ll have plenty of time to finish these then.”
He plops down next to him, moving the DVDs to the floor and taking out the rest of the desserts Gojō brought back from the bag onto the table. He passes a plastic container to Gojō while he takes the rest of the daifuku, the movie menu starting up.
Gojō pops a cookie into his mouth before handing a random remote to Yūji who takes it without question and presses play.
After a while, the sun goes down and they’re on their second movie, the night leaving the cabin dark blue, the only light coming from the TV.
They went through most of the desserts fast, Yūji letting Gojō steal his once there was no more. He glances over his shoulder to the dining table behind him and— just like Gojō said— sees more plastic bags that have the sweets Gojō brought back. Soon enough, Yūji was going to have to get up and bring them over.
The movie is very fast-paced, keeping the audience’s attention by never letting up. Relaxed against the soft cushions, Yūji grinning into his hand at the bizarre scene in front of him, of a woman leading a dance at a bar.
Gojō looks over and checks that Yūji is fully immersed in the movie.
For a moment, he does nothing. Then suddenly, he’s bringing his legs up to the couch and moving down the thick cushions, until he’s at the height where he could rest his head on Yūji’s shoulder.
Yūji glances over but doesn’t stop him. Instead, after the next scene where a half-naked drunken man is denied pants, Yūji laughs softly as he reaches his right arm out to rest over Gojō’s back, hand settling on Gojō’s right arm.
Gojō smiles sweetly, bringing himself closer, blushing slightly. Chest warm and light, feeling safe. Safe, of all things, when there’s nothing in existence that could remotely hurt him. But it feels like the most accurate way to describe it and while it doesn’t make sense to him, he doesn’t fight it.
Gojō chuckles at the same time that Yūji laughs when a few scenes later revealed that the woman was still leading the dance, now parading with a group of tagalongs in the streets.
He briefly imagines all the other fun things he could do with Yūji but for now, he takes comfort in sitting beside him and thinks about what other movies Yūji might like.