Chapter Text
The heat is getting to you—it has been getting to you, but just yesterday you had AC to survive this horrible, horrible weather. Now that fuckass thing is broken and you have to sit here in the heat, sweating your ass off.
You’ve already put your hair up and away from your neck, a cold bottle of water being currently pressed against your skin, helping you cool down slightly.
It doesn’t work, though. Sure, it’s a nice respite, for two second, before another wave of absolute heat makes you sweat even more. Groaning, you close your eyes.
Satoru walks into the living room, where he sees you sit. A bottle of water awkwardly held against your overheating skin, little droplets of water and sweat beading down your neck. Not just your neck, but your entire body is covered in a sheen of sweat, glistening in low light.
A droplet of sweat beads down from your chin all the way to the valley of your breast, disappearing where he can’t see.
Fuck. Of course you would wear minimal clothing with this heat—just a small tank top, which has your tits almost spill over, and the shortest shorts known to mankind—but it just overheats him more.
Pushing his white locks from his forehead, he walks over to where the AC isn’t blasting.
“Please tell me you can fix it,” you groan from the couch, opening an eye to see your roommate look at the AC with a frown on his face. Sweat is beading down his temple as he stretches, giving the thing a quick tap—as if that would do anything.
There’s a faint reply from him, but you aren’t even listening anymore. While he’s trying to work on the AC—arms outstretched, muscles flexing, more sweat dripping sinfully down his body—his shirt has ridden up just enough for you to see that V-line and a portion of his abs.
Licking your lips, you let your eyes linger for a second longer, giving him some hums in reply to what he’s saying.
Sure, you’ve seen Gojo walk around without a shirt many times, but that doesn’t mean you get tired of the sight. It’s not like you normally get to have a good look. If your eyes so much as wandered down his chest, he would give you a small smirk, subtly flexing his abs, before you turned around with a scoff.
He’s hot, so what? And now he also has it hot, sweat dampening his shirt, clinging to the outline of his body. Maybe he should just take it off. To battle the heat, of course, nothing else!
Your mouth is getting parched by now. And just in time, too, because Gojo turns around with a pout on his face, lower lip jutted out dramatically. “Can’t get it to work.”
“That’s because you can’t get anything to work,” you grumble before taking a sip of your cold water that has warmed up by your skin slightly. Still, the cool water slides down your throat, a little bit spilling from the corner of your mouth, trailing down your neck, leaving behind a wet trail of goosebumps.
Suddenly, Gojo leans into your personal space. The heat of his body is unbearable right now, but you can’t lean away any further, the couch behind you preventing it from happening.
Before you can even say anything, his tongue darts out of his mouth and onto your neck. He licks a broad stripe up your neck where the water trailed down—no doubt tasting all the salty sweat as well—and even onto your chin, before he leans back slightly with a small smile on his face.
“What the fuck, Gojo?! Why would you do that??” you grumble, swiping your hand over your neck which is all wet with saliva now. It’s honestly not a nice feeling, especially with this heat, and it makes you all the more cranky.
“What? I’m sweating too, and we can’t let any of the cool water go to waste!” he easily replies, still leaning in way too close. There’s a hint of amusement visible in his eyes as he looks at your bottle of water before his eyes trail down your neck again, licking his lips when they trail even lower, having a perfect view of your boobs now.
“Just because we’re in a heatwave doesn’t mean we don’t have any cool water. Wasting one drop of it wouldn’t mean we’d die. There’s plenty more in the fridge, so get your lanky ass up and get yourself some.” You end the sentence with bringing the bottle up to your lips again.
Wrong choice.
One of Gojo’s large hands wraps itself around yours, and squeezes. The water that was supposed to go into your mouth is now everywhere—your face, neck, chest, legs and onto the couch.
“Oops. Sorry, it just looked like you were feeling a bit hot, so I was trying to help you cool down—” his words trail off when he looks down. Your tank is now clinging to your body, nipples hard because of the cold liquid seeping into the fabric. And what a fucking sight it is. “But my mom always said I should clean up my own mess.”
His lips descend onto your chest, slurping some of the water that’s still on the hollow of your throat. Gasping out, one of your hands find the back of his head, fingers tangling in his white locks that are absolutely soaked with sweat.
He peppers some kisses onto your skin, tongue occasionally flicking against your skin as he looks up at you with those bright blue eyes of his.
Biting down onto your lower lip, you look down at your roommate now situated between your legs as he absolutely laps you up. You wouldn’t have guessed this actually happen in even your wildest dreams. Sure there have been some where he was in, but even your mind kept cock-blocking you.
Hovering just before your your nipple, he looks up for permission. Giving him a small nod, he surges forward, lips wrapping around the hardened peak through the fabric, absolutely sucking and biting on it.
Moaning, you arch your back for him, hand pushing him further into your chest. His tongue circles around the bud a few times before he sucks again, a wet slurp of which you have no doubt also makes his entire fill with water and sweat, that was seeped into your top.
Your other hand tightens around the bottle of water. The crinkling of it has you snap your eyes to it, and a small smirk immediately stretches your lips.
There’s still a bit of water left in the thing, and without thinking too much about it, you pour the remained down Gojo’s back. The liquid drenching his shirt, the white fabric becoming transparent, clinging to his back muscles.
He gasps as he jolts slightly. Detaching his lips from your chest, he looks at you with wide eyes. “Oops.” you do not sound sorry for even a little bit. “Maybe you should take that off.”
Huffing a laugh through his nose, he shakes his head a little, but easily complies. His hands find the hem of his shirt, and he slowly takes it off. Taking his time with it, you let your eyes wander once more—his abs now fully uncovered, strong biceps flexing as he pulls the shirt over his head, and of course his back rippling with the motion.
Tossing the shirt somewhere into the living room, he notes the way your eyes wander. Smirking he slowly leans forward again, lips trailing wet kisses all the way from your pretty tits all the way to your cheek.
Just as his lips hover centimeters from yours— BZZZTTT. The intercom rings through the apartment, making the two of you look over to the tiny box hanging near the door. “I’m here to fix the AC.”
Well, shit.