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“See you tomorrow, Gojo-sensei!”
The classroom door slides shut as Itadori finally wraps up the onslaught of questions he’d unloaded onto Satoru after class had ended. It’s becoming a common occurrence for the boy to linger, somehow managing to find yet another thing to ask Satoru about. While it had endeared him at first, Satoru isn’t sure how many more Yuji Itadori bonus rounds he can take.
Satoru groans, leaning back in his seat and lifting his blindfold to rub his eyes. This teaching thing is nice, but man is he exhausted. Was he that energetic as a teenager?
“That boy has a crush on you, you know.” Satoru hums, not bothering to even turn his head. He doesn’t have to to recognize his company.
“You aren’t jealous of a teenager, are you? How unlike you, Suguru,” Satoru teases. He cracks an eye open, taking in the fond expression on Suguru’s face. Suguru tugs the blindfold back over Satoru’s eyes with a chuckle.
“Jealous? Of course not. I’m merely observing.” Suguru’s breath ghosts over Satoru’s face, and he adjusts in his seat to meet him halfway for a kiss. “Besides, you probably wouldn’t have noticed until you got yourself into trouble.”
“Trouble?” Satoru scoffs. “I don’t exactly think I need to be worried about Itadori.” Suguru rolls his eyes, perching himself on the desk. Satoru’s hands find him instantly, rubbing gentle circles into his thighs. Suguru sighs, relaxing under wandering hands.
“I think you underestimate him,” Suguru muses. One of his hands finds Satoru’s, linking their fingers together. “He’s quick. Wild. Younger.”
“Hey now!” Satoru tugs Suguru closer, twisting a dark strand of hair around his finger. “Seems like I should be worried about you around my precious student.” Suguru chuckles, leaning in to catch Satoru in a slow kiss. Any thought of Itadori fizzles out with the soft drag of Suguru’s fingers along Satoru’s jaw, holding him in place. Cool metal presses against his skin, and Satoru breaks away from the kiss to press his lips to the ring on Suguru’s finger.
“You know you don’t have to worry about me,” Satoru whispers. He tucks Suguru’s hair back out of his face, twin silver on his own finger glinting in what’s left of the sunlight filtering through the window. “When I chose you forever, I meant it.” There’s a tightness in his chest that Satoru can never seem to shake in moments like these, when he’s honest and for some reason always fears Suguru will suddenly hate him for it.
“I know, Satoru,” Suguru answers, and he looks so disgustingly in love that Satoru kisses him just so he doesn’t explode from seeing it.
The classroom is the last place they should be getting carried away, but it’s always so hard for Satoru to hold back when it comes to his husband.
Slow, gentle kisses turn quick, heated, and Satoru’s hands go from soothing to searching, yanking at loose clothing as he gasps up into Suguru’s mouth. The desk chair scrapes harshly against the floor, shoved aside in Satoru’s haste. He scrambles up onto the desk and into Suguru’s lap. It’s not like they won’t be going home together, but he just can’t wait.
“Suguru,” he groans, dropping his forehead to his husband’s shoulder as Suguru grinds up against him. “Don’t touch me if you’re just winding me up.”
“You need it that bad, baby?” Suguru yanks at white hair with one hand, leaving the other on Satoru’s hip to keep him firmly in place. “If you want to convince me to fuck you here, you better start begging.” Sometimes Satoru swears Suguru has some sort of spell on him, because there’s no way he would even entertain such a demand from anyone else.
From Suguru, though?
“Suguru, please, come on, don’t do me like that,” Satoru whines. He pulls on Suguru’s clothes, kisses along his throat, grinds their hips together harshly. “Don’t make me wait until later. I’ll keep it down,” Satoru lies. “It’ll be quick,” he lies again. “Just- please, Suguru, baby, you gotta fuck me.” Suguru makes a show of pretending to think it over, even as his hands set to work getting Satoru’s pants open.
“You can be so polite when you want to be, Satoru,” Suguru praises. “Are you still good from this morning?” He fishes around in one of his numerous hidden pockets, producing a small bottle of lube while Satoru shoves his pants down and reminisces on the reason they ran late today. Well, reasons, plural.
There’s something about being half naked as Satoru bends himself over the desk, knowing that Suguru is fully clothed behind him, that should probably be more embarrassing than it is. Suguru’s fingers dance across Satoru’s ass, soothing despite the fact that Satoru doesn’t exactly need it.
“You’re killing me, Suguru,” Satoru complains. He doesn’t get the chance to chastise Suguru any further, his husband fully settling into him smoothly, as though they’d wrapped this morning up five minutes ago rather than hours. Satoru’s legs are already shaking as he steadies his breathing through the first few slow rocks of Suguru’s cock into him. It’s the only respite he’ll get, and he both hates and savors it.
“ Fuck, Satoru. You look good when you’re acting like a whore,” Suguru says. It would almost be icy if he wasn’t saying Satoru’s name so lovingly. The compliment (?) is the only warning Satoru gets, if you can even call it that, before Suguru attempts to completely split him in half.
Satoru slaps a hand over his mouth, the best (and only) attempt he can make to keep his voice down. It’s a daunting task. Every snap forward of Suguru’s hips punches another moan out of him, another sob.
“ Suguru,” Satoru pleads, dropping his hand in favor of grappling on the desk for anything to hold onto. “Don’t- shit- Suguru, don’t stop, don’t s- oh-“ Suguru winds a hand into Satoru’s hair, pulling him up and back, flush against his broad chest.
“Satoru,” Suguru murmurs, low in Satoru’s ear as he nips at it. “You’re so gorgeous right now, Satoru .” The praise is almost lost on him. Satoru is so close, too close to say anything coherent other than his husband’s name and likely several obscene things he’d deny if later asked.
“I want-“ Satoru swallows hard. He can’t take any more. Nothing exists for him other than Suguru’s hands on him, Suguru’s mouth, his cock so far in Satoru’s ass that it’s surely in his stomach by now. He’s on fire, and he’s freezing, and it’s too much and not enough all at once.
“Cum with me, Suguru,” Satoru whines. Suguru moans, twisting Satoru’s head back at just the right angle to kiss him sloppily, more spitting in Satoru’s mouth than anything. His thrusts are losing rhythm, the desk is scraping loudly against the floor. They’re both close, Satoru can tell. There’s hardly any energy left in him at all. Neither of them has paid any attention to Satoru’s own dripping cock, red and neglected, but he doesn’t need it. He just needs-
“I love you, Satoru-“ Suguru moans low in his ear, halting to a stuttered grind into him as Satoru comes undone under him. Satoru sobs and shudders, orgasm ripping through him almost painfully. He lets himself go limp. Suguru catches him, just like Satoru knew he would.
Light hits Satoru’s closed eyelids, his sign that Suguru has removed his blindfold. Warm fingers brush hair out of Satoru’s face while he returns to his body.
“Satoru…” Suguru purrs at him. “Are you alright, baby?” Satoru hums, a sound he can only hope sounds convincing. He blinks his eyes open, watching as Suguru situates Satoru’s pants back where they belong.
“I love you too,” Satoru blurts, realizing he didn’t get the chance to say it back. Suguru smiles at him, warm and loving.
“I know, Satoru. Now get up.” Suguru starts to lift Satoru off the table, stopped only by a pale hand on his chest.
“You’ll want to wait a moment,” Satoru says, tipping his head towards the closed door of the classroom. Itadori, he mouths. Suguru raises an eyebrow at him, crossing the room to the door and opening it quickly.
“Geto-sensei!” Itadori yelps, rushing to yank the bottom of his hoodie down. His face is completely flushed, obviously not expecting to be caught so easily. “I- um, I forgot my, uh…” The boy trails off as his eyes drift behind Suguru to Satoru, who hasn’t made an effort to fully peel himself off of the desk yet. Satoru wiggles his fingers at him in greeting. “Sorry!” Itadori barks before turning on his heel and taking off down the hall.
“You didn’t have to expose him like that,” Satoru laughs. He pushes off of the desk to take Suguru’s offered hand.
“Told you he had a crush on you.” Suguru catches him in a quick kiss as Satoru steps past him into the hall.
“Mm, and I doubt you did anything but make it worse. I like when you’re jealous though,” Satoru teases. “It’s hot.” Suguru shoves him lightly, and Satoru pretends to stumble before drifting back to Suguru’s side.
“What do I have to be jealous of?” Suguru asks. He twines their fingers together, letting Satoru swing their hands as they walk. “I’m the one who got to marry you.” Big talk for someone who pulls Satoru even closer.
“It’s only you, Suguru,” Satoru sighs. He doesn’t need to see his husband’s face to know he’s smiling that special smile, the one saved only for Satoru.
“I know, Satoru. Let’s go home.”